It is over, here. Tinged with tiredness and a sense of some relief the words broke in on her concentration as she headed south from Stock to cross at the ferry in Buckleberry.
Are you uninjured? she returned, knowing he would minimize it if he were. Still she could not feel any pain come from him.
Must go soon. Plans to be made. Here is the plantation . . . and here the cottage where the children and Bird are. Take care, beloved.
She fixed the clear image in her mind and rode on.
[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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