[Mithadan]

Mithadan was miserable. Within 10 minutes of his standing up, his ankle had begun to swell and shortly thereafter he was unable to walk at all. He had unwrapped the ankle, bathed it (painfully) in cool water from his basin, then carefully rewrapped it a bit more loosely to avoid cutting his circulation. Whoever had knocked on the door had not returned and no one had visited all evening. The absence of Piosenniel troubled him in particular. He considered shouting but it would be unseemly and embarassing.

So he suffered through the evening with his pain and his thoughts until sleep found him and he passed into uncomfortable dreams. But there was no beach, no wave rising from the depths, no mighty Vala appearing to give him messages or solace.

A mighty hunger woke him at dawn. The swelling had receded a bit and he found that he could stand if he were careful. He pulled on his boots, which supported his ankle a bit more and hobbled out the door in search of food and company.