14 December, North of Hradsk

Saw a young Aesir boy today lose two fingers to cold. I am recording that badly, since the phrasing makes it sound as though the weather reached down and took them. In truth, he had hidden the injury for too long because he was ashamed to admit that he had become numb during a herd crossing, and by the time anyone noticed there was little to be done.

He is perhaps thirteen by Human measure, old enough to know better and young enough to believe that knowing better should have protected him. His father did not scold him, which seemed to make the boy cry harder.

I assisted with the amputation, a clean procedure with a good prognosis, and he will adapt. All of that is true and none of it is remotely adequate. I am reminded that physicians are often required to call something a success merely because the alternative was worse.