Echo tightened the worn leather straps of her pack, adjusting the weight to settle evenly across her body. Traveling as an agile snipe would have been swifter, but she had a trove of items to deliver to her sister for the upcoming solstice, along with her own essentials for their shared celebration.

The sisters had missed the last solstice, not out of disinterest but sheer busyness. Echo’s medical practice had been inundated with patients, and her enigmatic sister Bee had been engrossed in whatever mysterious pursuits occupied her time in Uddegana. They kept in touch by raven, usually initiated by Echo, and she had made sure to clear her schedule for this year’s ritual. Echo didn’t mind being the one to travel; she doubted Bee would much enjoy the marshy forests she called home. In truth, the thought of her slow, shapeless trek north filled her with excitement.

The journey was long and uneventful. Echo had left with a few days to spare, anticipating potential delays, but aside from stopping to aid an injured traveler, there were no interruptions. The traveler had ended up being a rather eccentric barrel merchant traveling with a laden cart full of empty beer barrels. For her help with his bum leg, he had offered Echo a ride in his cart, shaving off even more time from her already ahead-of-schedule journey. During the trip, he talked at length about the wood he used, the treatment of said wood, and how even the cut of the grain mattered when preserving the flavor of alcohol in a barrel. Echo would have never guessed so much went into such a mundane thing as a wooden barrel, nor that anyone could be so passionate about it. Passionate enough that the topic held more interest than it ought to as he spoke about it.

By the time she departed his cart at the crossroads of northern Uddegana, she was a full two days early. The sun had begun its departure towards the horizon, casting long blue shadows across untrodden snow. The trees jutted in harsh, jagged shapes, their branches heavy with snow. The daylight did little to warm the air here; night would surely bring an even deadlier chill, and Echo had to decide whether to surprise her sister with an early arrival or kill a few days in an inn somewhere. She was sure there had to be one along the road eventually, but without good bearings, she decided it would be better to embrace the early arrival at the risk of imposing on Bee.

Uddegana was beautiful in its own way, reminiscent of their birthplace—a cradle of snow, ice, and still beauty. The air was crisp and cold, burning her nostrils with each deep inhale. She meandered along the trails with a sense of nostalgia, her early departure and smooth travel affording her the luxury of taking it slow. Beautiful for a visit, but Echo had grown too accustomed to the lushness of her home to consider living closer to her sister. The plant life here was hardy and sparse, a stark contrast to the verdant mosses and ferns she communed with back home. The cold, arid landscape no longer suited the swamp witch. Her paws stung as the path became less traveled and more laden with snow, and the air nipped her nose uncomfortably—things that never used to bother her when she had lived in a land of winter.

She knew the way to her sister’s abode well from previous visits. The anticipation of reuniting with her quickened her steps, a sense of warmth filling her despite the frigid surroundings.

Beelzebub