"Francis Fletcher." He hesitated, drawing his cloak more tightly around himself, before falling in beside the other man. In the distance, above the howl of the wind, there sounds a louder, more animal howl. The trees and cliffside press in on them, deepening the darkness, and it is not only the cold that makes Francis shudder. His hand goes up under his cloak, touching the St Christopher's medal around his neck, and he takes a deep breath, offers up a prayer for protection.