The encampment took shape with the practiced efficiency of a legion. Situated near a wide clearing and shielded by a phalanx of ancient, thick-trunked pines, the site offered both a vantage point and protection from the biting alpine winds. Large, heavy-canvas tents were erected, their stakes driven deep into the frozen earth.
Soren's first instinct, as it had been since they left the capital, was the absolute comfort of his wife. While the men hauled crates and sharpened spears, the Emperor of the North was personally supervising the interior of Eris's quarters.
He paced the small space, fussing over the placement of extra fluffy hide furs and ensuring the softness and comfortability of his wife.
"It's a bit damp near the entrance," Soren muttered, shifting a rug an inch to the left. "I should have brought the silver-lined silks for the inner layer."
