”Baine,” a voice calls out softly behind me. “I have some willow bark, a small cauldron and a needle… It’s just a very small one, but if…”

I stop in my tracks. I didn't expect her voice be so tentative and small. What did I expect? Music? A wolf's howl? She knows my name but I don't know hers. Frantically I try to think back. Did 'Daig say my name when we first saw Sean and his greenwood wife at the festival grounds? Or is she able to pull peoples' names out of the air?

Curiosity overcomes foreboding. I turn slowly, cautious yet moved by wonderment. "That would be a help!" I say to her, forcing my lips into what I hope is a friendly smile. I can't help staring into her face. What strangeness. And what beauty! I feel stunned and joyous, as if I've just discovered a surprising treasure.

"The willow bark will help, yes. I'm not sure if his ear can be stitched back on, though. I did get a close look."

Both of us grimace at the same time. I continue chattering on.

"I was going to look for some balm to ease his pain, there should be some growing here by the banks. 'Daig shouldn't have emptied that wineskin, its all we've got! You know plants?" I add belatedly, in surprise. "Well, of course you must."

I can feel her staring, or perhaps glaring, at me. This is not going very well at all. Taking a deep breath, I try to start anew. "Sorry, I don't know your name," I shrug.

"Winter Mist," she says simply and points a finger at my feet.

Why?! I glance down, fully expecting to see my toes changed to frosted boar's hooves or something equally revolting. My boots look the same as always. There, in front of my feet, is a goodly sized stalk of balm. I have to chuckle at myself as I stoop to pinch off the leafy top.

"Nion's wound must have been the last work of the ranger's hand," I explain as we go slowly back towards the cave, plucking a few sprigs here and there along the way. "It was Faramir. I saw him lying dead in that grove, did you?"

There will be time later to tell her more. For now, it is enough that Faramir befriended us and then we had to move on without him. It is no lie that I don't know what happened in the grove but I can guess.

"We're outlaws," I grin proudly. "In case you didn't know, you are the greenwood wife of a man with a price on his head. Welcome to the outcast band of Magh Croimor! Now - let's have a look at Nion's ear, or what's left of it."