Embers Of The Raven: A Christmas Story From Greenland (The Christmas Raven Book 1) - Plot & Excerpts
All the while the raven watched. “Humph,” said the little man when he spotted the raven, but he did not stop. The twilight was growing stronger and he had yet to find a suitable qaarusuk for the day. It would be a cold day once again and the little man was loathe to spend another polar day burrowed in the snow like an animal. “A cave is what I needs and wants,” the little man muttered. With lumpy digits he fingered the sealskin pouch tied around his waist, hidden beneath his inner layer of furs. He gave the pouch a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing his hand deep within the heavy cuffs of his skins. As the little man toiled further up the mountainside the raven took to the wing, following him. The little man, no more than a dwarf in size, stature and temperament, turned at the sound of the raven in flight. He humphed once more and carried on. The snow was less deep here but the rocks upon which he trod were smeared with a thick gelatinous glass, cold and hard to the touch and treacherous to the lone traveller lost in his thoughts.
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