[Folwren]

Athwen looked up as Osmod addressed her again. She had instantly assumed that he would continue on ahead when he spurred past them, but when Parith pulled himself up sharply to avoid colliding nose and rear with Osmod's horse, Athwen realized she was mistaken. Her hands jerked out mechanically to grasp the reins and while she heard Osmod tell her to pull out her cloak she evened them out in her hands.

'I don't have a cloak,' she told him, looking up as she spoke. 'Everything was burned, remember? I came back too late to save anything, much less clothing. I'll live, though. It is a bit chilly.' She looked up with regret at lowered clouds and the cold rain drops wetted her face and slipped down to her collar.

Osmod frowned at her explanation and turned his horse about. She watched as he once more drew up to her and her mount's side. He draped his reins over his horse's neck and then his hands went to his own cloak's clasp at his throat.

'You can have mine,' he said, undoing it.

'Oh, no!' Athwen cried. 'Then you'd be without it! I'm fine, really I am. I don't-' the cape was placed over her shoulders - 'need it, really,' she ended, sounding rather lame. 'Osmod, please. . .'

'You can't change my mind,' he told her with a smile. 'You need it more than I do.' She smiled back at him and relented.

'Thanks,' she said quietly. He nodded and rode on. Athwen watched him go as she fastened the cloak shut and then pulled the hood over her head. It made a difference immediately, for it was warm from him. He's very kind, she said to herself, still following him with her eyes. He's so much like. . .like Korin was. At the thought of the name, she could barely keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She glanced quickly away and took a shuddering breath. To distract herself, she address Eostre.

'It will be nice to stop and find shelter. This rain is likely going to get heavier before it goes away. Let's ride a bit faster and at least catch up with the others.'