[Tevildo]

Leod thought for a moment and then reassured her, "Either way will do. I think we'll be fine with the fish in the satchel. It's only a short walk to camp. We can clean and gut them as soon as we arrive. Now going back to our village is another matter because the walk is so much longer. I can remember many a time that I warned the Crawford twins not to stash the fish in their bags." There was genuine enthusiasm in Leod's voice as he continued his explanation, "Usually, I carry my fish from the river in a bucket of water to make sure they're nice and fresh. I have a small table in my yard where I clean and dress them. Then I gather some of the fallen branches from the oaks that grow at the far edge of Old Granny's land and...."

Abruptly, Leod stopped and stared down at the ground, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. There was an awful moment of silence. He had said too much. There was no village anymore. Both Old Granny and the twins had been killed, like all their other friends and neighbors. The last thing this young woman or the others wanted to hear was how wonderful it had been in the good old days before the Orcs had come.

Uncertain what to do or say to compensate for his blunder, inwardly seething with frustration, Leod snapped at Athwen in a peevish voice, "Enough of that nonsense. We've got more things to think about than fish. Let's just get back to camp quickly so we can get out of here as soon as possible. This whole place gives me the willies."

The group plodded down the path, with no one brave or foolhardy enough to try and start another conversation. As they finally reached the camp, Dorran grabbed the pack and curtly offered to clean and cook the fish. The young man seemed just as distraught as Leod. He knelt down a short distance from the fire and jerked out his knife, removing the heads and tails and then cutting and deboning the fish with a few swift hacks of his blade.