What a demon you have brought us, daughter," gasped Morg's father. Morg smiled.
"But now it is caught it is good. It can breed with our pigs to strengthen them. The boar will bring us luck. You have done well." He turned and left the hut.
"Come near to the fire, child," said her mother. "Drink some of this," and she offered Morg a cup of something hot and delicious.
"It is mead," said her mother. "It will warm you." Morg sipped the honey drink and felt the ice melt inside her.
"Mother," she hesitated. "How is my brother?"
"The Druid treated the burn with herbs, and bound it. He has coughed less today. See, here he is sleeping."
Morg looked at her mother. Did she look different?
"Mother? Are you better?" she said.
"Perhaps. The Druid gave me an infusion. He burnt some mistletoe to drive out the foul spirit inside me. I feel more myself now."
Morg smiled to herself. She knew that it was Alos that had cured her mother. She was glad.