crashes through the brush, hand on sword hilt and demands,"What goes on here?"
The smithy is trying to rise as two women come up behind the man I recognize from the tavern as Brehyrion. I have seen the two females there also. The older of the two held a protective arm around the younger's shoulders. The younger one sobbing, the other adding her own glower to that of the Brehyrion.
"Must I repeat myself?" growls the Brehyrion "Are you daft?"
I signal Cliste to be still and replied.
"No. Neither of us are daft Brehyrion."
I then explain how I had come upon the smithy and that I knew nothing of what had transpired before that.
"I was but picking berries." the smithy said as he straightened then chuckled, "I must say they carry quite a punch!"
I looked at the two females again. The younger one, only a girl, still wept on the other's shoulder. To the older, though not much older than the weeping one, I say, "My apologies if I have offended you by crossing this Holy ground. I merely sought the peace of it on my way home. Now if it pleases you and everyone is well, I have no more to tell and shall take leave of your good company."