Brenda
**Sir Emmanuel, Commandant of the Guard**
***Crow's Eye, The Iron Plaines***

Sir Emmanuel, the Commandant of the Guard and Interim-Regent of the Fief of Crow's Eye in the absence of his Lord, Maric Corvyn, was in his office, surrounded by two cloaked guards, dealing with paperwork, when his Steward arrived. He was dressed in a white cloak, covering him from head to toe, as was policy established by Lord Maric before he left the Fief, and had come with the first report on the situation since the edict was established three days ago. 

Sir Emmanuel opened the report, and started to read. There had been no cases as of then, policy was being followed to the Letter, the Guard and the Lord's Knights were doing a good job of patrolling the streets, and the beggars and unemployed that had been hired to clean the streets had done their job decently well. The Village had never been cleaner, and Pigeon Messages would start to come daily from the other population centers of the Fief, recording the compliance of the population with the edict, but it is expected that the population continues to follow this edict, if not for the respect they have for their Lord, then for the fear of getting the plague themselves. Without large stores of grain, and with the relatively scarce population of the Fief, it is expected that it is not hit hard by the plague, but quarantine will stay in order. 

Some new orders would be given by the Interim-Regent, including that all travellers entering the Fief, or any of it's villages, are to camp outside for 25 days to make sure that none of them have been contaminated, and are to cover themselves at all times. All reunions, family gatherings or anything like that would be banned, with the population only allowed out of their homes to work or do essential business. If they are found to be in violation of any of these rules, they are to be locked up in the Dunheons of the Keep, or Executed, depending on the severity of the infraction.
Irene
Kinley Muriel Woodford, Iron Plaines

As he saw the two women freezing, he sighed. He was used to being with the guardsmen, who lived the cold. He removed his large cloak, and held it to them. 

"Here. I'll be okay with the fire." 

He had no experience with soothing unhappy women. As much as he wished he could help the Lady Anna, it wasn't something he could just do. For all he knew, she thought he was beneath her. 

"We'll be avoiding any and all inns and shops. If we need supplies, I'll go. No one knows my face, so I should be able to get in and out easily." 

The young man stared at the small fire as he continued to strategize. It would be several days before they left the cold of the Witherlands. He'll go buy everyone some new cloaks later.
Shirley
Pippin Penby.
The Witherlands, The Iron Plaines.

"I still don't think it's a good idea." Insisted Pippin. She wasn't going to let him off that easily, especially when she believed to sense an inkling of incompetence. 

She offered him a glance, a sour expression as she turned her back to him, taking the cloak from him as she turned, still focussing her attention on the Lady Anna. She spread it out across the two of them, and although it may have been improper, it was necessary for the moment. She attempted to stay as far from Anna as she could as to not impose on her personal space, but such a thing was quite difficult when sharing a cloak. 

"I'm sorry -. I'll try to not, ah.. Surpass my station, my lady." She murmured in regards to how close they were, shuffling uncomfortable. Pippin didn't like to break the rules when it came to etiquette and courtly expectations. Such a thing had been drilled into her ever since she began to work at the Barrmount castle. 

Staring into the embers of the fire, she watched the crackling and flaking of wood as it began to rise into the air, pulling out once again, her small embroidered handkerchief. She ran her fingers along the stitching as she lost herself in thought, jaw clenching as her hard gaze locked on one particular spot. She was almost catatonic, ignoring everything around her. *Was mother safe?*, she had inquired in her mind, biting down on the corner of her lower lip. *Were her family safe?* She pleaded to know the answer. *Gods, please watch over my kin.* She prayed, clasping her hands together and raising her balled knuckles to rest against her forehead. 

She continued to butt heads with Kinley whenever it came to decision making, up to the very moment that they left.
Angel
Lady Anna Barrmount
Wilderness, the Iron Plaines, the Witherlands.

"Thank you mister Woodford" Anna said as Pippin wrapped the cloak around herself and Anna "We have brought food and some clothes, right Pippin?" Anna looked at the maid as she sat down.

A light chuckle escaped the Lady after hearing Pippin's words. It was the first time se laughed since Rodrick fell ill. 

"Don't be ridiculous! We are not at the castle, and your clothes are even less warm than mine. Come here, I don't want you to get frostbite"

Her pale arm wrapped the coat over Pippin so the maid was covered equally, as Anna got closer. As her father taught her, getting close to your companions was the best method to keep the warmth in the harsh temperatures of the forests.

...

Anna didn't remember the moment she had fallen asleep, but there she was waking up with her head on Pippin's shoulder.

The snow had a radiant glow from the rising sun, and the birds sang from one brach to another among the trees. For a brief moment, the young Barrmount smiled while filling her lungs with the fresh cold air, forgetting about what had brought her there.