She rose from the bed, pulling Morozko hastily after her.

Morozko looked at her skeptically.  “Have you not any care for caution?  For consequences?  There are monsters out there, cherti familiars and vucari and nechist waiting to devour you.  Do not romanticize travel.  It is a dangerous undertaking – getting lost, having your horse broken, your money stolen – everything about it, why, it is treacherous.”  Morozko changed out of his kaftan into red jeans and a white cashmere sweater with embroidery of horse-backed Perun and Veles, flanking Mother Mokosh.  He turned from Anya to give them privacy.

Anya laced her combat boots over her leggings.  “Oh please.  You said...