Dejah clenches a fist across her chest, trying to still ever-increasing shivering. Her other hand grips around Curtis's waist and she is eternally grateful for Ysa's help. She can't feel her feet, so she has to focus very hard on where she steps.

She keeps her head down and follows in Woola's and Liranan's tracks. Good calot. Good mabari. Praise Issus.

She cuts a glance at Curtis. His complexion is ashen, and his lips are almost white. "One foot in front of the other, right? We know how to do this."

One foot.

In front.

Of the other.