Sheila clutched her cloak tighter. She wished her cloak was a little less invisible and a little more warm.
Or that she had pants. She missed jeans.
Eric dropped down beside her, shivering. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “We’ve been in worse spots.”
Eric knew she was right. They were only snowed in, in an abandoned castle, with no idea where the others were – and with nothing to go on but one of Dungeon Master’s cryptic clues. It could be worse.
He held up an arm, and Sheila moved closer, enjoying the warmth.
They would see what morning brought, together.