We leave early the next day. Marrianne packs and carries baskets in each hand, one with food, and one with dirty clothing. It's starting to get pretty hot out, even during the morning. While we walk, I try making some sounds. Through my scratchy throat, I can kind of make some low croaking sounds that sort of resemble words now. Apart from that, it seems that the burns on my hands are starting to get much better. With Marrianne changing the bandages every day, they hardly hurt anymore, and the coloring has gotten much better. Unfortunately, I still can't keep myself from flinching reflexively. It's probably another reaction I won't be able to get rid of, like my fear of the river.

It's taken a while since they were pretty bad injuries, but they're all getting a lot better. The new scrapes across my side are starting to hurt more though. Today it looks like a series of cuts all running parallel, from my hip up most of the way to my armpit. Just thinking how close that horse came to smashing my head in makes me shiver. I'm going to keep avoiding horses. At least the scrapes on my side aren't that bad, so they'll heal quickly. We arrive at the East Gate early, there are lots of people heading out this way. They all crowd together to squeeze through the gate. I hold onto Marrianne's skirt as we get pressed together with all the other people heading out. Soon enough, we reach the other side, and the crowd spreads out immediately.

We head right down to the river, where a lot of women are washing clothes. Maybe because it's so nice and warm today? I dip my foot in the water. Even in the morning, it feels nice and isn't terribly cold. Nothing like when I was here last. Marrianne sets down her baskets. "Let's get you washed up first, then we can eat breakfast." I nod, and begin working myself out of my clothes. It's kind of difficult with my bandaged hands, especially because the clothes are tied on in a dozen different places since they're way too big for me. Marrianne hikes up her skirt like she does when she's working, and steps into the edge of the river briefly, testing the water. Then she comes back over and helps me out of my clothes since I'm not having much luck with all of the ties.

We go over to the water's edge. Since I already know what's going to happen, I wave at her, trying to tell her I'm fine. She looks confused, until I step into the water. The same paralyzing fear and feeling of icy drowning death assaults me. It overcomes me again, making me start to shake and cry as I choke on imaginary water. But I force myself to push through it anyway. I don't want to be scared of the water, but I can't stop my reaction. All I can do is weather it, like my dreams. I finally force down the fear, and I'm through. "Wunay?!" Marrianne asks. She looks shaken by my reaction to the water, but I just wipe my eyes, and look up at her. I shake my head and wave my hands again to show I'm fine. She looks incredibly doubtful. So I smile at her and make the scary hands. "You're scared of the river?" I nod and shrug. She finally lets out a long sigh. "Alright, let's get you washed up quickly then."

I nod and start rubbing myself with a wet rag. It's difficult, and I can't do it very well. Marrianne helps, scrubbing me up and down all over to get rid of the sweat, grime, and waste all over my body. The water splashing on me keeps triggering my terrors, each time forcing me to hold onto Marrianne's skirt gasping for breath until they pass. Once my skin is clean, we work on my hair. It was kind of gray before, but after going down into that horse muck, it's a muddy brown again. Marrianne takes a bar of something she calls soap out of her basket and explains that it will help get me clean.

She rubs some on me and it smells kind of weird, but it seems to make it easier to pull off the filth than just using rags alone. She scrubs out my hair repeatedly, dunking it into the water over and over to clear away more of the filth, until my hair finally feels clean again.

Once we get back out of the river, we sit on the grass and she takes out a brush. It looks like the brush she used on the horses, but somewhat different. Smaller, and with a lot less pokey parts. She takes it to my hair. Bit by bit, she works through it, removing the tangles and snags, brushing it all out so it's nice and smooth. When I look at it again, it's so bright and sparkling clean, it almost seems like it's glowing. I've never seen my hair like this before. It falls to the ground all around me in waves as I sit in the nice, soft grass. "Oh, look how pretty you've become," Marrianne says while trailing her hands through my smooth hair. I run my fingers through it too, amazed how nice and soft it is now. It even feels good when I rub it against my face.

Now that we're finished getting me clean, we eat breakfast. She pulls a few cut up fruits from the basket she brought, and we sit by the riverside eating. With the heat and the sun and the food, clear blue skies, it's nice and relaxing today. It feels kind of hard to believe that I can live such nice, peaceful days like this. Even if I know they won't last, even if it's all built on a lie, I just want to hold onto these wonderful times.

"Wunay, what's wrong sweetie?" Marrianne asks. I realize that I'm starting to cry a little, so I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes and show her a big smile to try and say that there's nothing wrong. This one is a very strange emotion. A feeling that is equal parts happy and sad.

We finish eating quickly, then Marrianne starts washing the clothing. She has a big basket of clothes it seems, in all different shapes and sizes. She pulls out pieces one at a time, scrubbing them on what she calls a washboard. She makes quick work of much of the clothing. It's just a surprise how much of it there is. Actually, now that I'm looking at it more closely, these are all of the clothes I've been wearing. It seems like there are dozens of patched together dresses. Of course, they're almost all huge, which is why she has been wrapping and tying them around me for the last two weeks.

But still, I went through all of that clothing? Until now I'd only worn my robe. Marrianne has put me in bedclothes, work clothes, town clothes. Even if they're all basically the same, largely masses of patched together brownish fabric, the amount of laundry I've generated, which she has to wash now, really makes me feel bad. She does so many things for me, there's nothing I can really do to thank her. I can't even help wash the clothes with my hands all bandaged up.

What can I do to thank her...? People give each other gifts, but is there anything I can give her? I can't make anything, I can't buy anything, do I even know what she would like? Let's see, what do I like? Maybe that will give me a hint. I like... what exactly? Trees are really cool. Impossible. How about food? I like that, and I think she does too. What kind of food could I get her? If we were in the forest, there were all sorts of things that she showed me that I could give to her. But here... I look around helplessly. There isn't much by the river. Grass, rocks, sticks, small trees, a few bushes here and there. When I look southeast, the river continues far off into the distance. Then I turn to look the other way and see it's the same going northwest. While Marrianne is still doing laundry, I keep scanning the riverside.

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There are plenty of other people here to watch. Lots of women doing their laundry, as well as quite a few young children. The women are all busy, but the children seem to be free. While Marrianne is working, I walk over to some kids sitting by the river. It looks like they're digging in the dirt with their hands for some reason. I still can't speak, but maybe if I can learn something from them anyway. The kids look at me with curious eyes. I smile at them, and they smile back.

I sit on the ground with them. These children are very young, only three or four years old. Even though I'm interested in what they're doing, I can't really dig like they are without my hands, so I just sit and watch. They seem strangely attentive even though they're just pushing the dirt around. Pulling it up, squishing it in their hands. Throwing it back down where it lands with a surprisingly satisfying plop sound. They are all stained black from the dark, soggy looking dirt, but don't seem to mind it.

One of them holds a clump of dirt out to me. I take it in my hands, trying not to move it around too much. It'll stain the bandages, which Marrianne will end up needing to wash later. That gives me an idea. As soon as my hands are better, I should wash my own laundry so she won't have to. I nod to myself a little.

After handing me the dirt, the child picks up some more, and eats it. I tilt my head in confusion. Is dirt edible? The child smiles at me with dirt all over their face. Does it taste good? I hesitantly sniff the clump in my hand. It doesn't really smell like anything. I take a bite. Bleh, that's nasty! I turn and spit the dirt out. Coughing from the sudden muddy, grimy taste on my tongue. I go over to the river and suck up some water, using it to rinse my mouth and get all the dirt out. How can they eat that?

I look back over at Marrianne. She's still washing clothes like before. Actually, it looks like she's washing the big fabric case she calls a mattress. She pulled all of the straw out of it this morning, and now she's working bit by bit to wash the two weeks of dirt and sweat off of the fabric. It looks like slow, difficult work because it is absolutely riddled with holes where the sharp ends of straw eventually poked through.

Since she's still working, I keep wandering around. I wonder if there's anything else I can come up with? A few of the women comment on my pretty hair and clean dress, so I give them a bright smile in return. A little ways off, I hear children laughing and letting out surprised screaming noises. When I walk closer, there are a dozen of them a short distance away from the city wall, seemingly running in circles while laughing and screaming. I look on curiously. It kind of looks like everyone is fleeing from one child. But as soon as that child catches up to someone and touches them, everyone starts to flee from the other child instead. Even the one that just caught them. It all seems rather strange to me, but the children look really happy.

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Those laughing, smiling faces. That's what they do when they're having fun, right? I'm not familiar with the way it feels. I've heard the word, and seen those looks on children before, but I've never really felt it myself. From their expressions, at least it seems to be some mixture of happiness and excitement.

As I'm wondering about this, one of the children breaks off from the group. "Hey, come play with us," he says. Like the other children here, he seems a little younger than me, about five years old by my estimation. Though he does seem pretty big for a five year old, since we're just about the same height.

When the other children notice, one runs over my way. He taps me on the shoulder and shouts "You're it!" before starting to run away.

"Hey, that's no fair!" the first child complains, "I was just asking her to play with us." The other kid just sticks his tongue out, which makes a few of the children giggle. After a moment of confusion, I just smile and give them a big nod. I figured it out by watching earlier, so it's not too difficult. He gives me a toothy smile back. "Ok then, you're it." With that, he turns around and all the children start running again.

Their choice of words gives me a moment's pause. 'It' indicates a thing, not a person. So they run away from whoever is the 'thing.' Somehow it makes me a bit uneasy, but it's probably just me being too sensitive since I'm so scared of people knowing what I am.

With that, my moment of hesitation passes. I start running after the kids. They twist and turn and run in random directions. It's trivially easy to follow them, it isn't like they are moving with any real skill. But I don't just run right up and tag them. Clearly, that would be weird. So I wind around like they do, moving in a twisting path, back and forth until I catch up and tag a child on the shoulder. Then with everyone else, I turn and run from the new 'it.'

We keep running and tagging, twisting back and forth. Before I know it, I'm laughing along with everyone else, even without my voice. The game continues for a while, everyone spinning and spinning around as we tag each other over and over. It's a wonder they don't all get dizzy running like this. No wait, maybe that's why we're all spinning in circles the whole time?

Eventually, everyone is tired out and panting for breath. As I lean over, holding my knees and breathing quickly, I can feel the smile plastered across my face. This is what fun feels like. This is incredible. Like the powerful feeling of joy is just going to explode out of me! The kids start talking about what to play next. I don't know any of the names of different games they want to play. Then the ringing of the bell cuts my thoughts away from the conversation. That would be the seventh bell, time for lunch. Sure enough, the whistle sounds, setting me on edge for a moment before I push it from my mind.

I look over and see Marrianne is waving at me. So I run away from the group of kids while waving goodbye. When I get back, I see that she has most of the clothing stacked to one side in a neat pile, with only a few things left to wash. She digs into the food basket, pulling out various items one after another and handing them to me as we eat together. Some bread, some fruit, as well as mushrooms and other vegetables. We have a nice lunch, sitting and munching on the food bit by bit.

Like earlier, it's nice and sunny, though a few clouds have started to drift lazily across the sky. As I look up at the far off, puffy things, I notice that they don't seem to move in the same direction that the wind is blowing. Huh, how strange. I want to ask Marrianne about it, but there's no way I could get her to understand such an odd question with gestures alone. I'll ask about it some other time then. Once we've finished eating, she moves the stack of clean laundry into the now empty food basket.

Wow, that's really convenient! "Don't wander off now, I'm nearly finished," she says as she gets to the last of the laundry. I nod and sit obediently nearby. As I sit, I'm a bit tired. It's sunny and feels nice out, so I start to nod off a little. But my attention returns to Marrianne when I notice her pull something different from the laundry pile. The different color and size catches my eye. It's way smaller and lighter than everything else. Wait, isn't that my robe? I watch with great interest as she washes it.

She rubs some of the soap into the fabric, scrubbing it on the wash board, and a surprising amount of dirt and grime comes off. Even though it's already so light? As I watch, it gets lighter and lighter, a completely different color even compared to when that other lady washed it for me. For some reason, Marrianne looks worried as she continues washing the robe.

By the time the water mostly runs clear, it is a grayish white color. Completely different than the brown color of every other piece of cloth I've seen. Wait, it couldn't be that they have rail units wear white clothing so they can be distinguished from people, right? My heart jumps into my throat as soon as the thought occurs to me. When Marrianne stealthily casts a concerned glance in my direction, I get the impression that isn't right. Something about her expression makes it seem like she's really worried about something. But I don't see a single trace of hate. Though she does look just a little scared.

I must be missing something. I can't understand her worry. I try tugging on her sleeve, maybe now she'll tell me? By the time she turns to me, her previous expression has completely vanished. "Yes dear?" she asks as if nothing is wrong. I pout and look down. She won't tell me what's wrong, she doesn't even seem to want me to know she's worried. But that just makes me feel worse! If she told me why she was worried, maybe I could try to help somehow...

Since I can't express any of this to her now, I just hug her tightly. After a moment, she wraps her arms around me gently. If sharing this warmth is the best I can do right now, I'll do it.

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We return to town a short time later. Marrianne carries a basket piled high with clean laundry, and I clutch the food basket from earlier, now filled with a much smaller stack of laundry. I know it's not much, but I can carry this for her at least. It doesn't take us long to arrive back at her house, she lives pretty close to the East Gate. She ties up a long string from the side of the house to another building nearby, going up the length of the alley between the two buildings so it doesn't cross over the road or get in the way. Then she throws the laundry on the line to finish drying in the midday sun.

Once all of the laundry is drying, she sweeps out the house. She piles all the old straw by the side of the street, then takes some fresh straw from the room in the back that has all sorts of things inside. When I point to ask about it, she calls it a storeroom, for storing all of the different supplies they need. She spreads the new straw on the floor. It's very interesting. We never had straw on the floor where I lived. Maybe it's because the floor here is wooden while that was stone, but I don't know the difference between them.

Then she pulls out a wooden box with all sorts of tiny things inside. She takes things from the string outside, which she calls a clothesline. One by one, she brings them inside. She drags the table over near the window in the kitchen so she can sit in the light of the sun.

"Look, I'm going to repair our clothes," she explains. She takes things from her box one at a time, explaining as she goes. First is a needle, a very small metal stick that looks very pointy. Then she takes thread, which looks like a small, thin string. She puts the thread through a tiny little hole in the bottom of the needle, opposite the point, and uses it to sew the clothing. Anywhere she finds a rip, or where the fabric is starting to rub away from her washing them, she either sews it back together if there is enough fabric remaining, or adds a small patch of randomly colored, brownish cloth, adding it on to cover over any gaps. So that's why everyone has clothes with little multicolored patches everywhere, it's how people repair and maintain them so they can keep wearing them. I wonder why all the patches are kind of different colors even though the fabric all seems to be brown?

It takes an amazing amount of time though. One by one, she repairs the various clothes. She even works for a long time to repair the mattress before filling it with straw again and laying it back out on my bed. When I lie back down on it, it feels a little fluffier, and a little less pointy than before, since there aren't nearly as many little holes for the straw to poke out from.

It takes such a long time that she hasn't even finished half by the time the sun is going down and she needs to stop to make dinner. Excitedly, I go to bring in the remaining laundry off the line. I don't know exactly what to do with it, but even I can take it off the line and pile it up on my bed for Marrianne to deal with after dinner.

When Francis gets back, he looks at the pile I'm proud of, and smirks a little. He quickly moves all of the clothing into their room. He seems to fold it all up in some pattern, then store it in the big wooden box near the bed. He calls it a 'chest'. Once he's done that, I point him over to the clothesline. It's too high up, and tied off somehow, so I can't take it down myself. So he takes it down and puts it back in the storeroom. After that, it's not much longer before dinner is ready.

We all eat as usual. Marrianne talks about how we went to the river today, and praises how bright and clean we got my hair. Even Francis agrees that it's impressive. I keep smiling. I really like my hair. Before we've even finished, I'm already very tired. It's not really that long after the last bell though. Maybe because I ran around with those other kids for a while? I'm surprised, but Marrianne puts me to bed with an amused smile. I've nearly drifted off to sleep by the time she pulls the blankets over me.

When I bolt upright in bed again, I look around. Francis is still sitting up, but I don't see Marrianne anywhere. "Marrianne had to go do something," he explains. He watches me for a while as I get my breathing back under control. "You know... this can't last, right?" I let out a long breath. Then I nod. "Don't get too attached. Marrianne already is..." He rubs his face into his hands with a frustrated look. "We really need to talk about all of this." I nod seriously.

Then I hold up two fingers. "Two days?" I nod again. I point at my open mouth, then hold up two fingers again. At this rate, I should more or less be able to speak again the day after tomorrow. I need to talk with him then. There are far too many things about this situation that I don't understand. And with the way things have been going, there must be even more things I don't even know I don't understand. In two days time, I really need to speak with him, get the bigger picture, and figure out what I'm going to do moving forward.