Ludwig, along with the group of adventurers from earlier, joined Joana and Kassandra. Snow squeaked under their boots and breath hung like small ghosts between them. The newcomers carried the tired look of men who had followed a rumor up a slope and found more than they expected. Their cloaks were rimed with frost, their weapons still bearing the faint crust of ice from the duel. Ludwig moved through them with the easy gait of someone who had spent too many nights outdoors to be surprised by wind. He glanced at Joana, then let his gaze settle on the circle of faces.
"Tell me," he said, "how's master Van Dijk doing?"
The question was casual on the surface, but it held a dozen things underneath. Ludwig wanted a measure, a sense of where allies and enemies alike had shifted since his absence. Joana's hand tightened for a flicker on her sword before she answered.
"Well since you asked, he's been quite miffed about everything… not the best mood to be honest," Joana said.
