The fire in the small stove crackled, the only sound in the shack as the steam from the coffee rose into the chilly air. The carnal storm of the morning had settled into a heavy, poignant silence. Mild sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Arm, the towel still loosely draped over his trembling frame.
"I came here to disappear, Arm," Mild said, his voice brittle and low. "I ran away from the scandals, from the lies, from the life I didn't want... and mostly, I ran away from you. But the problem didn't stay behind. It followed me into the mountains. It found me in the dark."
Arm sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. He looked at Mild's hunched shoulders, no longer the "Ice King" of the boardroom, but a man stripped of his armor.
