Pine Row
A slim trail winding its way through a group of wooden buildings. The faint smell of animals comes from a stablery to the north of the trail. A few merchants and traders make their way down the path, the majority heading to the west. The sun shines down through the trees lining the pathway. The heat in the air seems to be higher in the western part of the row.

The noonday sun beats down harshly on the hilltop fortress of the Haladin, the heat and humidity almost suffocating in their intensity. Most of the people outside at this time of day are sitting in the shade, slapping at insects and talking amongst one another, the heat lulling them into lazy quietude. Sitting apart from the townspeople, her back against one of the trees that line the pathway, Leana sits. One leg is drawn up in front of her and the other stretched out into the street, oblivious of the impediment she creates in the pathway. An elbow rests on her raised knee as she chews thoughtfully on her midday meal -- a chunk of stale bread and a few peices of dried venison.

Conspiciously free of her healer's satchel or encumbering cloak, Aldawin strolls down the lane from the west, her gaze lazily drifting from Haladin townsfolk to building, to pathway and building again. Nearing the tavern she slows, the grey gaze now drifting to the entrance. Her lips slightly upraised of a thought, the healer changes her course to walk towards the doors, opens them, then peers inward, though not entering inside.

A group of three men comes walking down the street, apparently discussing some matter amongst themselves. As they pass in front of the tavern, they part ways, with one of them, the warden Corrin, shaking his head and saying, "That's alright. I brought lunch with me today. I'll eat outside. I'll come by to pick up the mint later, Len." That said, he crosses the road, and finds one of the trees more out of the way than Leana's to sit under, giving Leana a polite nod as he does so, and takes a jar and a packet of some sort out of the bag he's carrying. It's at that point that he notices Aldawin and waves to the Beorian healer.

Eyeing the beorian cautiously, Leana draws her eyebrows together in a look of consternation. She opens her mouth to call something out to Aldawin, but soon thinks better of it and shuts her mouth tightly once more. She nods at Corrin in return and then moves her gaze outwards once more, scanning over the mostly empty street.

Her brief visual search of the tavern completed, Aldawin returns to the lane that stretches west to southeast, and is soon hailed by the Haladin warden across the way. Her expression gladdens with the sight of Corrin--though in that gaze is also faint concern--and with long strides the healer approaches and only now notices Leana sitting beneath one of the trees along the road. Acknowledging the young smith with only the discovering glance, Aldawin turns once more to the warden, raising a hand in greeting now as well. "Aye, Corrin," she says as she nears him, "fair day to you."

"Good day to you also, Aldawin," replies Corrin to the Beorian healer, his ease with her language markedly improved since the first day he hailed the visitors at the borders of Brethil. "Have you had lunch yet? If not, you are welcome to join me. I have come to town to do some business." As he speaks, the warden unwraps one of the parcels to reveal what look to be fresh rolls and opens the jar to reveal what appears to be some form of wild berry compote.

Aldawin smiles at the kind offer of the Haladin warden, but shakes her head in response. "Nay, I have just recently eaten, though I thank you for your offer," she says, and eyes the berry concoction with a lingering interest. A warm and sprightly breeze ruffles the pine and birch trees, shifting shadows and stirring up the scent of woodsy dust, pine and wildflower in its journey. Aldawin gazes westward down the lane, pulling her hair back as it blows about her face, then crouches down to sit across from the warden. "Finnabair told me of your expedition, the even you returned," she says quietly in the common tongue. The grey eyes are intent. "What word is out of what is to be done?"

Corrin cracks a roll open and spread some of the berry compote over it, mingling the smell of fresh bread with the tangy scent of the berries in the air. "I'm not sure," he admits to Aldawin before beginning to eat, "I will be meeting with Lord Haldir and some of the others to discuss this matter, but I suspect we will wish to send messengers to seek out the elves of Nargothrond. Besides, that, the only thing we can do is increase the watch upon the forest in that area, and teach the foul ones to fear to venture under its eaves."

A wagon makes its way slowly down the street, creaking and clattering against the uneven road as a family finishes the necessary trading and purchases in the city and heads once more towards the east gate, to return home.

"Ow!" Following this rather innocent exclamation, Leana shouts out a loud curse, withdrawing her leg from the street and crunching up her face in pain. She'd clearly not noticed the wagon coming, being too busy trying and failing to make sense of the conversation between Aldawin and Corrin, knowing only a few words of Beorian. Her normally ruddy complexion turning slightly pale, she begins to tug at her leather boot in order to pull it off and examine the run-over ankle.

Corrin jumps to his feet when Leana cries out and goes over to where she is sitting. "(Halethian) Look where you're going!" he yells after the departing cart, then turns back to Leana, and kneeling down he asks her, "(Halethian) Do you need helb with the boot? Best zet it off befor- the swelling begins or we'll have to c-t it off-"

Drawn by the commotion of the mishap with the cart, Aldawin hears the curse of the girl and watches the blur of Corrin's figure as he hurries to assist Leana in removing the boot. "Aye, and be careful!" Aldawin says with a shake of her head, rising from where she sits and approaching the injured girl as well. "You may do more damage in removing the boot if you are not cautious." Her brows furrowed, the healer reaches Leana's side as well, peering directly over the attempt to remove the boot. "Ease it carefully," she says, noting the paleness of the smith's face.

Nodding at the healer, Leana carefully works off the boot, casting it to the side and removing after an unfortunately filthy sock. She sucks in her breath sharply through her teeth as she examines her ankle. "My own stupid fault" she manages to say, her jaw still clenched against the pain as she bends her head over her raised knee, feeling faintly dizzy still.

Corrin begins examining the injured limb, paying no mind to the lovely scent of foot and dirty sock as he looks for breaks in the skin or signs of a broken bone. After the first glance, however, he looks over at Aldawin, and asks the Beorian politely, "What do you make of this, healer?" As he speaks, he continues to help support the foot and ankle as gently as possible.

Leana's ankle is already beginning to swell slightly, bruises of unsightly dark purple and brown appearing on the surface of her skin. She winces as she tries to move it slightly and soon gives up on trying to wiggle her toes or anything similar ... she's probably broken her ankle.

Looking to Corrin, Aldawin quietly motions for him to let her see to the injury as she rests her hands carefully under Leana's foot and kneels in front of the smith. "I have left my satchel at the pavilions," she explains quickly, "though it would be best to move her from here anyway."

Carefully feeling along the outside of the ankle and foot, Aldawin hesitates as she presses lightly where the skin has started to swell. "Move your foot slowly, as far as you can to each side, then up and down," she says steadily, looking the young smith directly in the eye.

Corrin nods to Aldawin, and says, "I can carry her if need be." He lapses into silence again after that, allowing the healer to speak to the injured party without interruption. Lee begins to move her foot first to the side but soon lets out another "Ow!" though this exclamation is far more weak than her first bellowing howl. "I can move it a little, but it hurts a lot," she says after having tried all the other directions with the same effect -- move it a little, feel a lot of pain. She's turns an inexplicable glare on Corrin and says with all the fierceness she can muster up, "I don't need to be carried. If none else, I will /hop/ one footed the whole way to ... wherever I need to go."

With a twist of her mouth, Aldawin looks to Corrin. "We can support her between us," and now she looks gravely to Leana. "If you will find that agreeable," "Believe me, Lee, hopping will not be without a good deal of pain, but do as you wish." Stifling a smile, Aldawin gets to her feet and stands out towards the lane as another cart makes its way towards them, motioning the driver away from where they stand.

"Or," notes Corrin absently, "We could get a lift. Hopping's not wise, though. You might fall on uneven ground and take out your other ankle. Not good." He goes back to where he was sitting before and gathers up his things, slinging his bag over one shoulder before returning to Leana's side, since Aldawin is already motioning the cart over. "I can lift you onto the cart," he informs Leana bluntly, still speaking in Halethian, "It will be faster than trying to support you."

"Fine," Leana says tersely to Corrin in her native tongue after a long pause, looking more than a bit disgruntled at the whole situation. She glances about and relaxes visibly on seeing nobody she knows well. "I'm never going to hear the end of this," she mutters all the same.

Stepping forward to speak to the cart's driver, the healer turns to Corrin, motioning him forward with a beckoning wave. "He understands me not," she says in the common language, though the man looks patiently on, and seems to understand there is some need of him here.

Leana looks nothing short of furious as she is lifted by Corrin, though she well knows the necessity for it. "If you tell /anyone/ that I had to be carried just for a little foot injury, I will ... I will ... get very angry!" This is said in the common, for Aldawin's benefit.

"I shall walk along the road and meet you there, for I would stop at the healer's garden first," Aldawin says, her brows still furrowed in thought. "Corrin, is there a well or some source of water where we might fill a bucket? T'would help with the swelling," she says. "When first you arrive, if you could see to that Corrin...I shall be along shortly. The Lady Emeldir may also be there, and you could certainly call upon her until I arrive."

Raising one eyebrow at Leana's reaction, Corrin says dryly (in common), "And what shame is there in being carried when you cannot walk? I'd lift any of my own men the same way had it happened to them while we were out on patrol." He deposits Leana carefully in the cart, taking care not to display any signs of mirth, then nods to Aldawin, and says, "There's a well not far from the pavilions. I'll fetch some water once we get there."

At a loss for a good response to Corrin's remarks, Leana finally says grudgingly, "Fine. It still makes me feel stupid. And it was not an injury come by /honorably/, like those on patrol." "Thank you," the apprentice smith says to Aldawin, as long as her arrogance is momentarily cast away. She nods at the smith and says the same to him before adding petulantly, "And I really /was/ sorry the other day, even I didn't exactly sound like it."

"Aye'n thank you," Aldawin says, and giving a sharp, serious nod to the smith, she says, "I will meet you there shortly." She nods towards the smith's foot. "And keep your leg supported up above the floor of that cart," she warns. "The jolt of travel will not be kind to it."

The cart approaches the pavilions from the direction of Pine Row, bearing with it three of the Haladin. The driver is one of those local to Amon Obel and the other two are the warden Corrin and apprentice smith Leana. The latter two sit in the back of the cart, and Leana appears to have suffered some sort of injury to one of her legs, as it is bootless and shows some bruising and swelling about the ankle.

Leaving his bag under one of Leana's injured leg to keep it propped up and cushioned against the bumps and jolts of the ride, Corrin hops off the back of the cart before it's quite reached the pavilions, and calls back to the other two in Halethian, "I'm going to go get that bucket of water. Be back in a moment to help the young lady off the cart." That said, he walks swiftly in the direction of the nearest well.

"My name is Lee and I am /not/ a young lady," the smith shouts, though without her usual vehemance. As the cart stops at the pavilions, she begins to try and get off the cart herself, but winces in pain and wisely stops that course of action, merely crossing her arms over her stomach and trying, with limited success, to look as though the pain doesn't bother her at all.

Her steps long and not sparing of time, Aldawin looks like she well may have run part of the way for the color touching her face and the glistening of sweat upon her brow under the hot noonday sun. Though she has not yet retrieved her healer's satchel, she carries in her right hand a good deal of herbs--the most obvious a long spear-leafed stalk and root of the plant boneset, its bright and petite yellow flowers bobbing with her steps. Seeing the cart ahead, and hearing the contrary smith in defiance of another's words, the Beorian healer stifles the smile that emerges upon her lips and quickens her steps, looking about for Corrin.

The pavilions bustle with the quiet activity of the Beorian refugees who have come to take shelter atop Amon Obel, upon the flat glade that graces the tall hill's crown. The approaching cart is noticed by some of the women who tend to the cooking fires near one edge of the ring of shelters, and though several of them watch the three Haladin who ride atop it, none voice any response to the warden's foreign words. Not far from where the Beorian women prepare the coming evening meal, however, sits Istadris.

The lean woodsman rests atop an overturned barrel, casually studying the unstrung staff of his tall longbow. A quiver half filled with black-fletched arrows rests at his side, along with his sheathed sword and crumpled cloak. The departing warden's familiar voice draws his attention, and it is then that he first looks towards the cart atop which Lee sits. Wordless, and yet evidently curious, the former ranger rises to his feet and begins to approach the Haladin smith's cart. His left hand rises in greeting to Aldawin as the healer hurriedly approaches from Beorian guest shelters.

"Aldawin!" Leana calls out, waving an arm at the healer. "Corrin just went down to the well, he should be right back."

As Istadris approaches the cart where she's still seated, she immediately takes on a pained look. "Hello," the smith says reluctantly to him. Trying not to draw attention to her raised and swollen foot, she sits up a little bit straighter and asks impatiently, "Do you need something?"

Lifting her free left arm to pat the sweat from her dampened brow, Aldawin looks for a suitable place away from the midst of activity here at the campground of the Beorian refugees. Seeing Istadris across the way, a glad smile lifts across the healer's face, and she approaches the cart as well. "Aye," she greets the former ranger with another cheered glance, but then looks to the smith's worsening injury with an appraising stare. "You need to get that foot tended to," she says in unquestioning tone, and nods towards a tall-standing pine with a generous shade at its base. "There is a place over there, under that tree in the shade." Aldawin directs with a stern look to the smith. "I suggest you let someone carry you there," she says, and again, look and voice hold some slight reproach.

Indeed, the warden soon returns towards the Beorian pavilions from the direction of the well, bearing with him a bucket of cool water freshly drawn up. As he approaches, his sharp eyes soon note Istadris's presence, and he calls over to him in greeting, saying, "Ho, Istadris! How are you this day?" Coming up to the cart, he places the bucket down, arriving just in time to catch Aldawin's last words. "Over there?" he repeats, glancing in the direction Aldawin indicated. He turns back to Leana, and offers to lift her up again, "Here we go once more, lass," he says mildly.

Istadris strolls casually up to stand beside the cart and offers the Haladin driver a dip of his head and a low word in Halethian for greeting. "Good day, Lee." He replies neutrally, peering up at the young smith and over at her raised leg and swollen foot, "Nay, I need nothing particularly." The tall man glances aside at Aldawin's approach and responds to her greeting with a crooked smile and a nod of his own. "How did this happen?" He asks of the two women, as he paces around the Haladin's cart and moves towards the edge closest to the injured smith. Corrin's call raises the adan's gaze, and he lifts a hand to greet the approach warden. "Corrin!" He replies, shifting the bowstaff from his right to his left hand, "All went well abroad, I hope?"

Heaving a pained sigh, Leana once again allows the Warden to carry her. "Is it /that/ hard to call me 'Lee' and not 'Lass' or 'Lady'?" she demands. "I argued with that Hurin fellow for nigh on an hour about it and at the end he /still/ could figure it out, the dullard." "Good day," she mutters in return to Istadris, polite, if grudging, in the greeting.

"Aye, that pine just over there," Aldawin says to Corrin with another nod to the clearing. "I must be about getting my satchel, and some heated water to start a poultice." Her gaze drifts to where the women work on the evening meal. "I shall also need some splints to set and wrap the foot..." she wonders absently, looking to both warden and woodsman. "Might either of you be able to help in that?"

"So that's your name, is it?" says Corrin in Halethian with an air of mild amusement, "You hadn't told it to me. But now I hear it, I think I know of you. I'm Corrin, by the way." Depositing the apprentice smith gently below the indicated pine, he adds to her, "And don't mind Hurin. I do not know him well, but he's young. And a foreigner. He'll catch on eventually." Looking back over his shoulder at Aldawin, he switches back to Common and affirms, "I can assist, healer."

Istadris stoops to lift the bucket from the ground where Corrin had placed it, momentarily ignoring the young smith's annoyed muttering. The cool water sloshes gently beneath its rim as the woodsman turns on his heel to approach Aldawin. "I shall see about heating the water up." He offers, following the healer's gaze towards the Beorian women near the fires, "Perhaps they can help with something to use for a splint, as well." With a quick glance back towards the tree where Leana has been set to rest, the Beorian woodsman strolls off back towards the edge of the pavilions and the crackling flames of the cooking fires.

Within one of the wooden huts is a faint rustling, followed by soft footfalls then the creak of a door opening, revealing Emeldir, a shawl draped over her shoulders. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes first, she steps out into the courtyard, blinking now at the bright sunlight, using a hand to shade her eyes while taking a brief survey. "Good day, Aldawin, Istadris..." she offers quietly in polite greeting, her gaze alighting on the younger healer and the woodsman. She dips her head, catching sight of Corrin as he speaks, extending a greeting to him as well, "Good day, Corrin," she says, glancing back in Aldawin's direction, observing now that she is obviously in the middle of tending to the young Haladin lass, who appears to have at least sprained her ankle. "Is there aught I could help ye with, milady?" she offers.

"Aye, you've probably heard it. Leana's my full name, I'm Nathan's daughter," Leana explains to Corrin. When Emeldir offers to help Aldawin with her ankle, she begins to look decidedly embarassed at all the attention she is getting. "Lady Aldawin's doing a fine job with it," she grumbles tempermentally. "I'm fine, it really doesn't hurt that much!" Her expression, however, belies her words as she grimaces with each movement as she settles herself beneath the pine.

"Aye, thank you, Istadris," Aldawin says with a grateful smile and glance to the woodsman. "And my thanks for seeing to the splints," she says next to Corrin. A breeze stirs up the scent of pine from the surrounding trees, and roasting meat from the cooking fires as well. As Aldawin gazes across the hilltop's pavilions, she sees Emeldir even before the elder healer's greeting. "Lady!" she calls in welcome, and still clasping onto the bunches of herbs in her right hand, approaches the woman. "Good afternoon, Lady," she says as her steps carry her to the other, and with a glance back toward the smith, Aldawin explains briefly the situation in a lowered tone. "It appears Lee has broken her ankle. I am off to get my satchel and make a poultice. It would gladden me if you would take a look at it as well, however," she adds. "The swelling is quite severe, but I believe a poultice and wrap should be sufficient." She grins a little and whispers the next. "However, keeping the lass quiet and off her feet for a bit might be the more difficult part of the treatment..." She glances back at the smith. "I shall return shortly. My thanks, Lady," she adds, then hurries off to the hut where she has been staying.

Istadris' head dips to the arriving lady in passing as he approaches the cooking fires, and his quick strides faulter momentarily as he replies to ger spoken greeting. "G'day, Emeldir." He offers, hesitating just a split second before veering away and hurrying on towards the crackling fire's side. There the woodsman exchanges some quick words with the other Beorian women, and quickly the water from his pail is poured into an emptied pot hanging above the fire.

"Aye, a cart ran over her leg," notes Corrin to Istadris and Emeldir informatively when Aldawin finishes speaking. There's a flash of recognition in his brown eyes as Leana identifies herself as Nathan's daughter, but too tactful perhaps to comment on it, Corrin merely moves away to busy himself with the task of getting things together for a splint of some sort after estimating the length of wood he'll need.

Approaching where Aldawin stands near to the prostrate lass, Emeldir nods her head thoughtfully as Aldawin shares treatment options with her. She nods to Corrin, her eyes widening slightly on hearing that twas a cart that ran over the leg, then quickly stoops beside the lass, smiling up at Lee as she makes a closer examination of the injury, "Good day, Lee. So ye had a run-in with a cart?" she asks lightly, her fingers gently exploring the ankle. "It feels like a clean break, at least," she observes, adding, "Ye will have to stay off your feet for a while, lass, to let the bone mend together again," she cautions the lass. "The poultice will make the swelling go down, though, and there is also a tea which will ease the pain some."

Still red to the ears, Leana tries to sink down farther and disappear entirely from view, though her immobilized foot makes that rather impossible, as Corrin explains the nature of her injury. Her embaressment, however, is entirely forgotten as Emeldir cares to her ankle and all her energies are devoted to keeping from wincing in pain.

"Stay off my feet?" she asks in alarm. "I'm already within a hair's breadth of getting ki ..." Lee stops herself abruptly and revises her wording. "I can't spare very much time from the Smithy. How long is a while?"

The bright, leaping flames of the cooking fire lick at the underside of the already heated iron pot, and the water poured within it soon shows signs of impending bubbles and steam. At a word from the woodsman, a pair of the Beorian women pour the hot water out into a cooler pot, which Istadris grasps carefully through a thick mantle. Long, hurried strides carry the tall adan back towards the pine tree beside which the young smith rests. "I have heated water." He declares upon nearing the small gathering, "Where is it needed?"

Some minutes pass before Aldawin reappears from the hut across the courtyard. But upon her right shoulder is draped the satchel's strap, and in her hands she carries a wooden bowl of crushed herbs and carefully folded, clean cloths. Returning to the tree where Leana sits, Aldawin sets the bowl down--its crushed contents pungent-smelling and coaxed upwards of a breeze. The healer stretches her left arm out beside her stiffly, then gazes to the Lady Emeldir, while offering Leana a nod of her head. She looks expectantly to the elder healer for her assessment, though as the injured smith asks about the time it will take for the bone to heal, Aldawin returns her gaze to Leana. "T'will be a long while," she says in a cautioning tone. "Nigh to a season until you can move without aid of a crutch as you were used to, though you will have some limited movement before then--"

The woodsman's return with the heated water turns Aldawin's attention to him, however, and she points to the wooden bowl, moving it out away from the others. "Fill it near to the top?" she asks, adding a word of "thanks" to the request.

Having gone off to find an appropriate splint for Leana's foot, Corrin returns and lays out the items neatly by Aldawin's side, then takes two steps back to watch the proceedings with his arms folded across his chest. Waiting till Istadris returns and is free to converse, he says to his cousin, "My apologies for not answering you earlier. I heard that Finnabair spoke to your folk about what happened on our journey? What do you think of the matter now?"

Moving aside to allow Aldawin access to Leana's ankle so that she can apply the poultice and wrap, Emeldir nods her head in agreement with the younger healer's assessment. "Twill be at least a fortnight, mayhap longer, that ye should keep any weight off the ankle, Lee," she adds, hoping that putting a timeframe on it will perhaps appease the lass at least somewhat. "After then ye will be able to get around with the aid of a crutch," she says, rising from the stooped position so that she can observe as the splint is applied.

Istadris eyes the apprentice smith's injured ankle absently as he pours some of the steaming water from the iron pot into the healer's bowl. His brow furrows lightly at the sight of her swollen foot, and he glances away, back to his cousin as the Haladin man speaks out to him. "I did not get a chance to speak of it to Finnabair." He replies, before setting the rapidly heating iron pot down upon the soft, grassy soil near the roots of the pine tree, "But I have been told what you found." The woodsman's frown deepens, and his voice softens to a hush as he turns away from the three women and speaks for Corrin's ears alone. "Do you think sending word to Anach is possible?" He asks, "How far east into Dimbar were the creatures? I would at least attempt to reach Anach to see if it has fallen, now that we know what has become of Minas Tirith."

Lee sighs heavily once more, though merely frowns in a determined fashion, obviously planning to shorten that duration of time as much as she can. "Fine," is all she replies, however, eyeing the offending ankle. She is distracted from the healers' work by the conversation between Corrin and Istadris, cocking her head to the side and taking in their words with keen interest.

"If Anach has not fallen," replies Corrin to Istadris, choosing his words carefully and not merely because of his discomfort with the common tongue, "It should be possible. The way was not cut off by any means, though the journey would require considerable stealth. I had thought to send messengers to seek out the elves of Nargothrond as well, to see what they know of the situation, but I doubt much difference will be made by that. All we can do is defend, and make the Enemy wary of our woods."

Using one of the splints to stir the infusion of herbs in the wooden bowl, Aldawin dips one of the cloths in the mixture and wrings it lightly before laying it upon the ankle as a temporary treatment. She does not miss the movement of warden and woodsman away from them, however, and the hushed tones in which Istadris continues to speak more draws the younger healer's attention rather than deters it, although she can discern nothing of their words. Returning to her task, the younger healer strains the water from the bowl into another and wraps the herbs left behind in a thin, gauzy cloth, applying them to the most swollen part of the ankle and gently molding the compress to Leana's foot. "Let this sit for a bit, until it cools," she says to the smith, then turns to Emeldir while the treatment is left to do its work.

"Lady," Aldawin whispers quietly. "Might I have you look at my arm in the interval before I splint Lee's foot?" And she motions the elder healer to the far side of the pine, if she is willing.

Istadris' thin lips purse with due consideration, and though he searches Corrin's expression closely, he offers no response at first to the warden's answer. At length, the woodsman nods his head. "Aye, send word to Nargothrond." He says, the words still hushed, "Perhaps the Lady Emeldir will wish to send one of our own south to them, to bear news." The lean adan glances briefly over one shoulder, back to where Lee, Emeldir and Aldawin are gathered by the pine's leafy boughs. "I may venture into Dimbar myself sometime soon." He adds, looking back to the Haladin, "Once I can draw bow again. But the yrch have not yet come to Brethil's borders, have they?"

Emeldir nods to Aldawin's inquiry, first glancing down at Leana, "I'll bring ye some tea in a bit, lass, after the swelling's had a chance to go down," she tells the young woman. She then follows after Aldawin in the direction the younger healer motioned in, "This is the wound from the treated arrow, is it not?" she asks of Aldawin, keeping her voice lowered, her brow furrowing briefly at the memory of that particular encounter with the yrch. As the pair pause, Emeldir takes Aldawin's arm for a closer examination.

Shaking his head slightly, Corrin replies to Istadris quietly, "Not in any force. A stray scout might wander towards the woods, but the rest travel in large groups for strength and have not been sighted approaching the wood." Turning away from the others slightly as he continues to speak, the warden continues, "If you intend to venture to Dimbar, I can go with you. I've little wish to stay home at the moment."

Leana peers at the wrap about her ankle with a frown, prodding at it with one outstretched finger before having the sense to leave well enough alone. She leans back against the tree and glances up at the branches that spread overhead, the rays of the summer sun poking unexpectedly through, illuminating the ground beneath with a dappled texture. Her gaze flickers between the others, but she can no longer hear either conversation, so returns her idle attention inward.

Unfastening the cuff of her sleeve, Aldawin eases the fabric up along the length of her arm until the injury is exposed. While it shows signs of being almost completely healed, the area surrounding the wound is still reddened and a small break in the skin looks to be indicative of some slight and lingering fester. "Aye, t'was treated and bound straightway, but it aches with whatever use I put it to, and by now it should certainly have have healed. I wondered if the deepness of the wound had aught to do with it," she offers, though shakes her head in resignation.

With a thoughtful dip of his head, Istadris replies to Corrin's offer. "Aye, I would have you come with me if you wish to." He utters quietly, before drawing a step aside and turning to look upon the injured smith, "And perhaps Finnabair as well." The woodsman's gaze lowers, seeking Leana's wrapped ankle and foot. "I would go as soon as possible, but my own injuries still trouble me." He admits, while glancing back at his Haladin cousin, "I can hardly draw my own bow yet." A dismissive shake of his head, and he paces slowly towards the pine by which the younger Haladin rests. "How did this happen, Lee?" He wonders aloud, both arms rising to clasp over his chest.

"I was sitting my foot out into the street and a cart came by," Leana explains, feeling ever more idiotic, eyes fastened firmly and petulantly downward, like a young child being lectured. "I should've heard it coming, but I wasn't paying attention. I was lucky enough that it wasn't entirely loaded, or it would've probably been worse."

Their conversation concluded, Corrin accompanies Istadris back over to where Leana sits, and listens in on their conversation briefly. He waits till Leana finishes speaking, then asks her, "Is there anyone you need me to inform about your mishap, Lee? I've dropped off all the arrows I was to deliver already, so I've little else to do before...going home." From his tone, the warden seems none too enthused about the prospect of returning to his dwelling.

Listening closely as Aldawin relates information about the wound, Emeldir peers more closely at it, bending her head to get a closer look. She observes that it is indeed reddened now, "Hmm.. it may be there is a bit of infection there still," she cautions the younger healer. "I will mix up an anti venum poultice ye can apply to it, milady. Then we shall see how it looks and feels in a few days," she suggests, giving a brief smile to Aldawin. "Does your arm ache now, milady? Ye should not strain it further, if it does, by splinting Leana's ankle. I would gladly do it for ye," she offers.

Istadris' cool grey eyes widen slightly, and his brow arches to betray some surprise at the young smith's words. The woodsman chooses silence however, and turns slowly upon his booted heel to gaze across the glade atop Amon Obel. A few quick paces carry him away from the pine tree, back towards the Beorian women's cooking fires and to where he has left the longbow's unstrung staff. Taking it in hand, the former ranger strides off to retrieve his other belongings from where they lie beside the overturned barrel. With the quiver and sheathed sword slung over his right shoulder, and the crumpled cloak draped over his left, Istadris returns to where Leana sits in conversation with the Haladin warden.

Aldawin chuckles lightly, glancing back to where smith, woodsman and warden are gathered not many paces away. "It always aches, but keeps me not from my duties," she admits. "If you would like to splint and wrap Lee's foot, I shall not protest, however," she adds with a smile. "My thanks, Lady," the younger healer says earnestly, lowering the fabric of her sleeve back over her arm and fastening the cuff once again.

Reluctant to accept more help, Leana nonetheless recognizes the necessity of letting some people know what has happened to her, unable as she is to tell them herself. "The smith and my father," she says, apparently not pleased about either hearing the news. "Tell the smith that I'll be by tomorrow to start on whatever work I can sitting down, and tell my dad I'll be staying with my mothers kin." She seems about as anxious to stay with them as Corrin is about returning to his home.

The last rays of the sun dim and darken the forest around Amon Obel. With a brief glance up at the sun, Corrin nods to Leana and answers, "I can do that. The smith and your father, aye." Looking about, the warden hesistates a moment, then reaches for his bag and says, "Well, if there's nothing else I'm needed for here, I suppose I should be on my way to inform them then."

The Haladin warden's words are the first Istadris hears upon his return, and his right hand tightens instinctively around the wide strap of his sheathed sword. "Wait, Corrin." He calls to the other man, the words spoken only reluctantly. A few quick steps bring the woodsman to stand before his cousin, his back once more to the pine tree and the young, injured smith. "I had not spoken to you since you left for Tol Sirion." He says quietly, "I had forgotten to tell you about Haldir's visit." The lean Beorian's head dips solemnly, though his clear grey eyes lift to meet his cousin's own. "He came by the night after Lia's burial to present the banner and seal of the Haladin to you as token for your grief. I stored them in your lodge."

Smiling, Emeldir nods her head in the direction of the young smith, "Then we should return so that her leg can be splinted, before she gets any ideas of attempting to walk on it," she murmurs to Aldawin as the pair start to return to finish the treatment. She reachs for the already prepared splint, then stoops again beside Leana, placing the length of wood gently aside her ankle. "Twill feel a bit snug, Lee, but that is as it should be," Emeldir explains to the young smith as she begins wrapping clean linen cloths in a figure eight, quickly securing the splint and tucking the end of the cloth in gently. She looks up in the direction of Istadris and Corrin, asking, "Would ye be willing to carry the lass back to her home?"

"He did? I didn't know," replies Corrin, his surprise at Istadris's words obvious, "Thank you, cousin." The brown-haired Haladin seems at a loss for a few moments, and it's almost with a look of relief that he answers Emeldir's request. "I can carry her to the homes of her mother's kin, lady," he offers, "It will be no great difficulty."

"No, you needn't," Leana jumps in firmly to Corrin, and with no small amount of alarm, wincing only slightly as her leg is splinted up. "I can just send word for them to come and fetch me. I can wait here in the meantime quite comfortably, it is enough already that you are going to speak with my father."

Stifling a small chuckle, Emeldir shakes her head, "Well.. only make certain that ye are carried home, lass," she cautions, then looks to Aldawin, "If ye'll come inside with me, milady, I'll prepare that poultice for ye," she offers.

Following the Lady back to where Leana sits under the shade of the pine, Aldawin watches as Emeldir expertly wraps and splints the injured ankle, afterwards collecting the other bowls and cloths left nearby. Searching in her satchel, Aldawin withdraws a two small muslin bags of herbs and hands them forward to the smith. "Here is tea for the pain and swelling," she explains. "Use each bag twice to make a tea, and I shall bring more herbs when I come to visit next." Looking to Corrin and Istadris she offers a faint smile. "My thanks for your help," she says to them. "And Lee.." Aldawin looks to the healer with a quieting glance. "You would be best to stay off of your feet for three days, and keep your foot up as it is now, otherwise the swelling will be worse." With a nod to the Lady and a quick glance to the woodsman, Aldawin follows the elder healer back to the pavilions.

The Beorian woodsman shrugs beneath the accustomed weight of his heavy longsword and adjusts the quiver of arrows at his side, nodding simply in response to Corrin's spoken gratitude. The injured Haladin's quick protest produces a faint, amused smile from Istadris, and he glances down curiously to Leana before speaking out. "Ah, perhaps you should simply stay here in the pavilion." He offers, somewhat reluctantly, "You will be near healers, and will have little need to move about back and forth." The tall man shrugs lightly before drawing a step aside and adding, "I shall be nearby, if I am needed." Without further word, he follows the other two Beorian women as they head towards the guest shelters themselves.

"Have them send someone to fetch you? And waste twice the time going back and forth? I think not," says Corrin to Leana, as he bends to scoop the apprentice smith up her protests notwithstanding. "Don't worry, I shan't drop you," he adds as he begins carrying her off in the direction of the dwellings of her mother's kin. Turning his head slightly, he nods in farewell to the Beorians, and calls back, "Thank you for your help!" before disappearing down the hill.