The sort of folk 'round here

The strange early autumn soon gave way to the real thing at the festivals end. Álarr was still tending to a broken paw but each day his healing progressed. He settled down in front of the barn where he'd made a fire pit rimmed in flat, squarish stones. Brynhildr had a fire going and for now he just sat in front of it, enjoying the warmth on his coat as he changed the bandages around his paw. Nothing had broken then skin thank goodness but he kept it bound to ensure the bones were healing back together as well as they could be. He flinched. Something would need to be brewed for the pain. Afi, his pallas cat companion, arrived with some abscess root between his teeth. The cat ran his side along Álarr's in greeting before setting the root down. "Getting better I hope?"

Álarr nodded. "Much, hopefully it won't be too much longer."