whistling I kick the door open, my hands full of bridles, grooming kit, plaids. I prefer tend to the horses than do help cleaning up. Nobody seems to take notice of my entering, all are busy with eating.

- Ah, food! And my favorite dish as it seems! Cousin Ingvoldr, our horses are taken care of, you can eat without hurry.

Yngvildr helps me to to stow away my utensils, and shoves me to the table. I have never seen her so excited, she always seemed so calm and rational to me.

- Have you met our new guest? it´s Hrothgar of the Scyldings!

I look at the dark, broad-shouldered warrior, and for the split of a second I think
- he can´t be ... , but no, it´s only a coincidental similarity. [mental note -watch him. or her.]

As I turn again towards my cousin to ask her about her favorite horse I notice an odd expression on her face.

- Ingvoldr? Are you okay?, and because I have nowhere seen her faithful companion
- Has something happened to Widimir?

But before she can make an attempt to answer, I remember something

- by the way, has any of you seen my petwolf? Fenris was with me in the stable, but then he was gone all of a sudden. I hope he has not sneaked into the pantry?