"Nion's wound must have been the last work of the ranger's hand," Baine explains as we go slowly back towards the cave. She plucks a few sprigs here and there along the way. "It was Faramir. I saw him lying dead in that grove, did you?" I nod my head in agreement. Baine keeps stealing side glances at me and trying to be friendly, but I can see her curiosity is getting the better of her.

“Would you like to touch one, “ I ask her motioning to my ears and we come to a stop. She blushes as if caught like a cat in the cream. Humans I have found over the years if they aren’t from my home that we seem to possess an extreme curiosity to these folk. I move my hair back then hold still and offer my right ear, which has a delicate silver ring in the upper middle half of it. Baine hesitates, but the delighted little smile on her face tells me otherwise about her hesitancy. She carefully reaches towards it. I wiggle it before she can actually touch it, grinning mischievously. We both giggle. I promise to hold still this time. When she seems satisfied that it wasn’t slimy or cold or unnatural, just another shape different to her very own we continue back towards the cave. Helpful weeds in tow we talk plants, her knowledge being much greater than mine being more restricted to field treatments and critters.

My mind returns her earlier statement of Nion’s ear being the work of a ranger. I find that curious as the rangers from home generally stayed in their wood or region, protecting trees or beasts charged to their care. Rangers, I conclude must have different roles here. I stray from Baine and approach my bay mare still laden with my baskets and pack. She follows. Quickly I fish out the items that I thought could be of help and hand them over to her with a smile. I look to the sky and can smell the rain building up in the sky. She looks at me like she has something to say.

“Winter Mist, we're outlaws," says Baine grinning proudly. "And summer marks the raiding season. 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." All the color drains from my face. I think I’m about to lose my last meal.

Outlaws? Brigands? Raiders…pillaging…burning…smoke…chaos…Raiders…blood….screaming…raping… I feel dizzy. Thievery I’m guilty of for more than count, but that was petty survival or spite. How many circuits had I run over the roads to make them safe? How many of these outlaws had I killed or imprisoned by my own hand. My husband has a price on his head. This is too much to take. Too much has happened in the past days. Getting married wasn’t supposed to be like this. My head is swimming in the past. I feel sick and hot, very hot. “I…I…don’t fe…I don’t think Nion or the other men would welcome me right now. I’d be in the way while they hold him down for treatment. I will be down by the river.” I smile weakly and start to walk towards the sound of the water. Thunder starts to rumble and Baine starts to wonder if Sean didn’t quite mention all the information she just divulged.