A mountain is a valley waiting to happen.

The Hermit of Roads

Baker walked up to where the woman and the healer were sitting.

"This is him! This is the man who helped me."

The healer scowled at baker. "And I suppose you thought you could just see to her yourself then?"

Baker stammered but no words came out.

"Then you just what, thought you would go for a drink? Without anymore concern for your 'guest' "

The woman put her hand on Bakers arm which made makers face warm a little but he didn't pull away.

"No healer. He helped me. Then he fell asleep by his fire from exhaustion. When I woke he was still sleeping. I didn't want to disturb him and left to explore the village. Thats when I met John outside and he brought me here. This man took me in from the snow in his kindness and ill thank you to leave him bee."

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The healer just grunted then moved on.

"For all you found her in the snow she shows no ill affects. No frostbite or lingering chill. Much like the day outside its as if she was never in the snow." A confused look appeared on the woman's face but vanished again in an instant. Only the healer noticed. "She also seems to have no memory from before you found her. Other than that she is in perfect health."

Baker finally got his feet under him and trying to ignore the very lovely hand on his arm he asked the woman a burning question or two. "Who gave you the dress? It was very kind of them, its a beautiful dress."

The woman smiled with a pleased expression. "Why thank you. Is my dress. I made it myself."

Baker didn't really know what to say to that so he moved on to his next question. "Who is John? Their is no one in the village by that name."

"O, John is a traveler. He was just passing through but he knows the tavern having stayed here often. So John brought me here."

This confused both Baker and the Healer. The winter had the pass closed. Even if a traveler had started through at first light they still would not have reached the village till evening.

The door opened again and this time everything in the tavern stopped as all turned to look at the presence which commanded their attention. Heron, The Mystic had come.