Svala was both suspicious and surprised the matron had given her the fur but she took it gratefully none the less. It was warm and she knew she could not go very long without it in this weather. It was going to be a frigid night she knew and she let out a long sigh but when the village came into sight she felt, relieved. She wanted out of the cold and she was hoping to think of some sort of strategy that would get her out of this situation.<br/><br/>While they walked through the village she remembered what hers had been like. It had been prosperous once too, when her father was still there. Her mother; her mother was not as strong as the village needed but she was still her mother. She would mourn her later she knew that but she had to survive the night first. Led to a large house she could only assumed belonged to Astrid and Inge she felt wonderful when the warmth hit her. The guards holding her did not lighten their hold on her, not once. She suspected they must have had a lot of faith and respect in Astrid to be so steadfast in their duties.<br/><br/>Her eyes went to the drinking going on at the fire pit. She couldn’t care less but it seemed to irritate Astrid. Could it be Inge is more trouble than even this woman can handle. When the brother spoke her eye narrowed at him for a split second before she calmed herself. Now was not the time for brash action, it was the time for tactics and strategies. She took mental notes of everything and made out plans in her mind.<br/><br/>Ignoring the barb about her drinking she let Astrid bring her to a room she could only assume was someone else’s by the décor. At first she tried to move away from the others when they started to remove her weapons but soon gave up. It was unwise to act so childishly. She would get her weapons back, eventually. It was a silent promise she made to herself. Especially the hunting dagger she had received when she was a child from her father. It had been a gift, her first knife. The blade was still sharp and it had a more decretive patter on it than any of her other weapons. It even had an inscription on the blade, a message to her from her father.<br/><br/>Bonds cut she rubbed her aching libs as much as she could and leveled her gaze at Astrid. Her defiance was still there but in her eyes held something far more. They spoke volumes, ‘you might have won now but I will have my revenge soon’; is what they seemed to say. “Thank you for your hospitality. It will not be taken in vain.” She said feeling the anger boil in her at saying it. Respect, she had to give the woman that. There was no better glory than to win a fight in battle and come home victorious. It was ingrained in her from her father. She had also been slightly amused at how Astrid had told her daughter of her imminent loss had she not stepped in.