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Will sat on the edge of his bed and drank down the rest of the cup of willowbark tea. A cold concoction that had started out hot when he’d first laid down. He felt much better now, he thought, as the cool liquid ran down his throat. His head had stopped throbbing and whatever he looked at was in focus now. Will stood up gingerly. The ground stayed put beneath his feet, no longer bucking and heaving like the surface of a storm tossed lake.
So far, so good, he thought to himself. His arm, too, seemed to be cooperating. His wrist ached dully and his broken finger was well splinted. As long as he didn’t try to wriggle the fingers of his left hand, the finger felt comfortable enough.
He stopped at the well and washed his hand and face as best he could. ‘’Twill have to do,’ he said to himself. He made his way into the kitchen, nodding a greeting to those there.
‘Those look great!’ he said, clapping Tollers on the back. ‘Did you catch them all yourself?’ He spied the mushrooms and grinned. ‘Can’t wait for Cela to work her magic on these!’
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