Forsaken Soul
“Outside her hut, old Tibia and a man were in close conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, the monk decided to wait until they were done before he delivered the sleeping potion. As he walked slowly back along the path he had just traveled, he began to ask himself what business this Will Blacksmith could possibly have with the herb woman.
The man is not known for his charity to any soul less fortunate than he, Thomas thought, so I rather doubt the visit has aught to do with alms or the offer... of kind companionship.
Curious and a bit troubled, he looked back at the pair.
Tibia was sitting on a high, three-legged stool, her eyes wide and unblinking like a painted figure in a manuscript. The staff she used to help her walk lay across her knees.
The blacksmith squatted on his haunches close beside her, his mouth next to her ear as if imparting some secret.
She shook her head and turned away from him.MoreLess
The man is not known for his charity to any soul less fortunate than he, Thomas thought, so I rather doubt the visit has aught to do with alms or the offer... of kind companionship.
Curious and a bit troubled, he looked back at the pair.
Tibia was sitting on a high, three-legged stool, her eyes wide and unblinking like a painted figure in a manuscript. The staff she used to help her walk lay across her knees.
The blacksmith squatted on his haunches close beside her, his mouth next to her ear as if imparting some secret.
She shook her head and turned away from him.MoreLess
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