WRATH OF THE NORTH [BJÖRN IRONSIDE]

CHAPTER EIGHT

Two weeks had passed by with harsh winds, icy cold and snow that fell heavily from the sky. The food had started to run out and neither one of they could leave the cabin due to the cold. They had six meals left, even if they didn't do much in the cabin that made them need three meals a day. To get water they had to open the door slightly and filled a bucked of snow to melt. The woods for the fire had also started to run out which worried Vál more than the lack of food.

To live with each other in such a small amount of space they had argued and when the food supplies started to run out their moods had gotten worse. The sky was dark outside the cabin as Vál was seated on one side of the cabin and Björn on the other, backs facing each other. They had argued all day over small things as how they breathed, how loud their breathing could be sometimes and that someone chewed loudly.

After three weeks the fire wood were completely gone. The last pieced of wood were slowly burning on the fireplace. The sky was dark as the night crept closer and Vál only sat there hugging her cloak tight to her body to get more warmth, trying to remember the feeling when the icy cold would penetrate through the walls without a fire locking it outside.

"How many storms like this had you alone survived again?" Björn questioned and she didn't move her eyes from the fire.

"18," She mumbled as cold shivers ran down her back. Björn let out a deep breath, smoke leaving his nostrils while doing so. He was fed up with the cold, he had never felt anything like it before so having someone before him who survived the storm 16 times gave him little hope to survive. He knew once that fire got out, the cold would hug their bodies until they died or the storm was over.

Suddenly Vál stood up, more restless than ever which surprised herself but also to walk around to become warm. The storm had never been this cold before, probably because when she was alone she had food stocked up and wood. This storm had arrived earlier than usual which slightly worried her but she didn't show it to Björn. Björn only looked at her as she walked back and forth.

"Stop it, you'll blow out the fire," He said and she stopped in her tracks with her back facing him.

"Please, the flames did even flinch as I moved," She spat at him and he only rolled his eyes. Without listening to him she continued to pace back and forth. She could feel his eyes burn holes into her body as dagger after dagger was sent her way. Björn started to get angry as each time she walked past her cloak nudged him. The current situation they were in shortened his temper. The next time she walked past he gripped her wrist tightly.

"Stop. It." He said, his voice low with a hint of danger. She only pulled her wrist from his grasp before continuing. Björn took a deep breath as the fire died out before standing up, blocking her passage. Vál bit the inside of her cheek as she looked him in the eyes before trying to walk beside him yet he stepped to the side, blocking her way.

"Move," She grunted and he only looked at her. "I said move," She said again, her temper shortened by each passing minute. When he disobeyed her and only crossed his arms over his chest she took a step forward, making their breaths fan over each others faces. Björn was only two inches taller than her and sometimes she thought that he believed that he was more than a head taller. Neither one of them said anything, they only stood there, staring each other down.