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Old 11-03-2012, 11:25 AM   #237
Stormdancer of Doom
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Join Date: Jan 2002
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Marigold stood by her little fire and slowly stirred her pot of steeping herbs. Nearby Mellondo's breathing settled, peaceful and steady. She smiled. One by one she took the mint-scented quilts off of him, and folded them carefully, and set them aside, until there was only the green velvet coverlet beneath him. His fever was gone, and she knew that the cold would no longer harm him.


Mellondu stirred, and resettled on the thick green moss.

Nearby a doe tested the wind, and turned to look at the man lying in the moss on the stream bank. She drew near, warily, and sniffed his black hair; here was no threat, and she walked past into the stream, scattering silver minnows as she drank.
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