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"Hile, Saure." he called, walking toward her.
"Hile yourself, Feroy. Come to help? I could use a hand, I suppose…"
"Nay, m'lady." She now noticed the downtrodden look in his gray eyes, and he removed his mud-colored cap as he neared her. She also noticed the group of folken who had apparently followed the boy at a distance, poking their nosy heads around the side of the farmhouse to listen.

"Alright, then. What is it? Is it the big cat? I can explain…"
"Nay, m'lady…" he fidgeted with the rim of his hat, casting his eyes down and shifting from foot to foot. He combed a pale hand through his messy, bluish-green hair.
"I have some bitter news… they all say I know ye the best, but… so I don't, you see… and…"
"Oi! Out with it before I send thee yon! I'll hear it all now or I won't hear any of it!" She was getting anxious, and a thin thread of terror wound itself around her heart.

"Yer parents' brush wagon was found… well, pieces of it, rightly… they found yer da'…"
"Is he alright? What about my mother? Where are they now? they'll need some potions, I should go get some-"
"Stop, now, potions won't help them, they're dead." he said all of this in a rush, his adolescent voice cracking.

Saure was very quiet. The rake dropped. Her quivering hands rose slowly to her face. Tears welled in her widened, innocent eyes. Her thin, magenta eyebrows creased and trembled.

"What?"
"I said they're dead, m'lady… they found yer da', but his ribs were crushed…"
"…what?"
"'Twas a cone-wind they say took 'em. They haven't found yer mum just yet…"
"… no. no, that's silly. Ye stop yer teasin' now, get ye gone if you've come to torment me."

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"Nay, m'lady…" he took her wrists and looked into her pain-filled face. "I speak truth, heed me. I'm ever so sorry ye had to hear it from me. I asked anyone to do it in my stead, but they made me. Now, they've come to talk to thee, since I've delivered my news. Would ye listen to 'em?"

She pulled her wrists from his clammy grasp, causing him to drop his cap. She simply turned away and looked toward the forest. The kirnfolken came in a herd, surrounding her and cooing words of condolence and comfort. She covered her face and ignored those who hugged her and patted her back softly.

"Now, then, give the poor girl som' air," Odara Mag, the matriarch of the Mag household, ordered and shooed the small crowd. Vin Mag gave the woman a quick squeeze and stuck a fat thumb behind one of his crude, leather blacksmith's suspenders.

"Now, Saure, m'dear lass, yer da' spoke with me som' years ago, when we was goin' to th'war…" someone sniffed contemptuously at this, but he continued. "An' he says, yer da', he says, 'Vin, me good friend, if I should perish, I want ye to watch over me house an' me kin. Would ye take mine own in and treat them as yers?' an' I says yar, t'would be the highest honor, for he was a great friend o' mine, an' I'm dreadful sad to see 'im an' 'is dear wife go…"
"Oi! Vin, ye old dullard! He said no such thing! I was there too, y'know!" Ulloy Dess piped up. The gaunt older man pushed past a Mag family member and glared at Vin, chewing furiously on a stalk of wheat.
"I was there for that 'war' as ye put it. Twas naught but a stuff-shirt baron come to claim our lands with three skinny fellows! I could have sent them on their soft arses with one 'and!" here, Ulloy rolled back a frayed sleeve and made a backhanding gesture with one scrawny arm.
"'Sides, she's a greenhand. She's practically kinfolk, y'see. We deal with great fields of crops year roond! An' ye ken she talks to farmbeasts? We have a whole pasture o' the beggars! Not to mention the stable, the hogspen, and the biggest henhouse THIS side of Halgurry Creek, says I!"