"My home has always been at war. I wasn't dragged into it until I was ten." There was no avoiding where her life went after the loss of her parents. She had grown up on the streets, with only her brother to look out for her.

Wanda looked down at the snow, listening to the way it crunched beneath her boots. It was comforting but also very sad.

"We should go back to the inn." She paused. "It's cold."