"R-R-Ra-Raven?" Stuttered Ivan, climbing closer to the young man and leaning his head on his chest. This was strange. Ivan almost never sought out physical contact. "I-I just vanted to say that... i-if we die, it vas m-my fault. I do not vant you to go to your grave... thinking you let me d-die. I did this, okay?" Ivan hugged his bow close to himself, as if he were afraid it were about to be snatched away. It would be a pity if he never got to bring it back to his father... if he never saw his father again, for that matter. 
He remembered what his father told him before he left for the North. "плохие вещи случаются в северных лесах. Будьте осторожны, сын." He supposed his father was right. This whole trip had spiraled into a crazy supernatural disaster faster than he could blink.