Even having one the magpie's trust when he was hardly more than a fledgling, there is still only so much Tuo can do to calm the frightened bird's squawking and flapping as he tries to swaddle them both in protective layers of blankets. It was an easier thing to do before Dain showed up--before Tuo could hear his own pulse racing in his ears, quick as a bird's. Still, he manages eventually, and allows himself to be escorted out into the bitter cold with his face pressed into the side of Dain's neck, Alvi held securely to his chest.

(He tries valiantly not to think of his home, unattended and isolated, so near an encampment of hot-blooded soldiers.)

At some point, he forces himself to squint against the wind and glimpses the silhouette of the vicarage ahead of them in the dark. "Thank the Night," he says without thinking--oh irony of ironies, and quickens his pace to reach the promise of warmth.