Page 1 of A Winter Courtship
ChapterOne
“What have you got there, Ethel?” Ulrich patted Ethel’s white coat as she nosed at the spindly pale-green, almost white plants growing in tufts around the base of a tree. “Did you find some reindeer lichen?”
Unsurprisingly, his reindeer didn’t answer; instead, she continued chewing whilst searching for more to eat.
The two stood in the forest just beyond the village of Ores. Not a single cloud floated in the sky above. The weak winter sun bathed the snow-filled forests in a bright, soft light. Around them, the forest lay still and silent. No sound but Ethel’s chewing.
“We should head back soon. I need to work in the smithy.” Ulrich’s breaths rose in puffs before his face.
Ethel kept eating.
“Fine.” Ulrich patted her back. “A couple more minutes, then.” Ulrich rubbed his gloved hands together. “But then we have to go back to the smithy. Can’t spend the whole day out here. Even if we might like to.”
Ulrich liked being in the forest. Out here he could just be himself, completely at ease. No one out here to judge him. No one here to think him odd for keeping a pet reindeer. Out here he didn’t struggle to awkwardly chit-chat with others. Out here he wasn’t reminded of how little he connected to those in Ores. In the wintery wilds, it was just Ulrich and Ethel and the serenity and peace the forest gave.
He rested his hand on Ethel’s velvet antler. “Your antlers are much bigger this year.” He marvelled at their size. “Wonder how big they’ll be next year?” Every year in late spring, her antlers dropped. Then they grew back, larger than the year before.
After a few more minutes of grazing, they began down the trail leading to the village.
Ulrich brushed away snowflakes around Ethel’s snout, which had attached when she’d been nosing for lichen.
“Pretty today in the forest.”
Trees stood mostly bare at this time of year. A slight breeze began to blow, causing the treetops to sway and creak.
“It’s nice to be out on such a lovely winter’s day, isn’t it?” Ulrich said to Ethel.
“It is,” a lilting voice answered on the other side of Ulrich.
Ulrich startled, almost falling into the snow. A firm hand on his elbow steadied him. He turned towards the voice.
A mountain nymph strolled beside him on the path. The hand on his elbow prompted Ulrich to keep walking. Long white hair stirred around the nymph’s slender shoulders, contrasting with his dark-grey skin. Eyes of almost white, circled by thin lines of black, stared at Ulrich.
The nymph wore nothing but a pair of dark breeches. His lithe torso and feet remained completely bare, not at all troubled by the winter chill. After a moment, he dropped his hand from Ulrich’s elbow.
“What?” Ulrich hadn’t even heard the mountain nymph approach. Ulrich knew oreads moved silently and could camouflage with the mountains and forests, but this seemed extreme.
“I agreed with you,” the oread said casually as if he hadn’t just appeared like magic. “It is a lovely winter’s day.” He gestured with a graceful wave of his hand at the scenery around them. “A perfect day in the mountains.” His gaze focused on Ulrich. “And what lovely company to share it with.”
Ulrich frowned. Why would the oread refer to him as lovely company? Was the oread mocking him? He pulled in his shoulders beneath the bulky overcoat.
Ethel honked, a deep, throaty sound. Ulrich placed a hand on her fur.
“Interesting choice of pet,” the oread said. “I’ve never known a human to keep a reindeer before.” He laughed, a light, breathy sound.
“Ethel,” Ulrich said. “Her name is Ethel.”
“And why did you decide to keep Ethel as a pet?” the oread asked.
“It was winter, and… And… She was half-starved,” Ulrich stammered defensively. “I had to take her in.” He wasn’t great at speaking with people at the best of times. But talking to someone he didn’t know, who’d appeared out of nowhere, asking him strange questions, left him flustered and unnerved.
“She came into the village, searching for food.” Ulrich remembered the sight of Ethel, walking around on wobbly, too-thin legs. Skin and fur had clung to her ribs. She’d stared up at him with big brown eyes. Of course Ulrich had taken her in. “She would have died.” He’d brought Ethel into his house, moving the furniture to make space for her by the stove.
“Don’t humans eat reindeer?” the mountain nymph asked, a hint of amusement in his melodic voice.
“She was just a calf,” Ulrich said.
“And how many years ago did she stumble into Ores?” the nymph asked.
