After the hunt, he had left the woman to the woods.
He could recall an age when women did not pick up a blade or stand their ground at the other end of blade or arrow. Though he'd found himself pleasantly surprised that the woman in the tree hadn't been frightened, it hadn't settled well completely because of it.
The horse in his pasture grazed while Sefron worked at opening the stag. He had removed his cloak and now worked in his plain leather vest to keep from ruining any of his tunics with the blood of the animal he'd taken down with one of his arrows.
While he worked the skin and fur back from the flesh and bones of the deer, he was careful not to waste much of anything of the beast. And his thoughts were on those he had spoken to over the last couple of months.
The girl in the Greath Hall took a spot in his thoughts and he miscut a nice portion of meat. Muttering a curse under his breath, he shook his head. He was not the sort to own another person, but the girl seemed to have needed protection. While he wondered how she and the one who had been in the tree were doing, he also thought of his sister. They were a mix of thoughts, but taken one stride while he worked at the meet and fur on the animal in the yard of the simple house.
His home was stone, wood, and thatch with only two true rooms. From its fireplace stack smoke drifted up to the sky. It would be raining soon with the smell of it on the wind and clouds darkening. He'd make another trip into town, whatever the weather. Though he liked his time alone, speaking to other people was welcome. More than welcome, he thought. It was necessary so not to take on to many habits of a hermit.
He could recall an age when women did not pick up a blade or stand their ground at the other end of blade or arrow. Though he'd found himself pleasantly surprised that the woman in the tree hadn't been frightened, it hadn't settled well completely because of it.
The horse in his pasture grazed while Sefron worked at opening the stag. He had removed his cloak and now worked in his plain leather vest to keep from ruining any of his tunics with the blood of the animal he'd taken down with one of his arrows.
While he worked the skin and fur back from the flesh and bones of the deer, he was careful not to waste much of anything of the beast. And his thoughts were on those he had spoken to over the last couple of months.
The girl in the Greath Hall took a spot in his thoughts and he miscut a nice portion of meat. Muttering a curse under his breath, he shook his head. He was not the sort to own another person, but the girl seemed to have needed protection. While he wondered how she and the one who had been in the tree were doing, he also thought of his sister. They were a mix of thoughts, but taken one stride while he worked at the meet and fur on the animal in the yard of the simple house.
His home was stone, wood, and thatch with only two true rooms. From its fireplace stack smoke drifted up to the sky. It would be raining soon with the smell of it on the wind and clouds darkening. He'd make another trip into town, whatever the weather. Though he liked his time alone, speaking to other people was welcome. More than welcome, he thought. It was necessary so not to take on to many habits of a hermit.