Okay, so he might have exaggerated a bit when he mentioned he had a house- hence the reason for his search of shelter.

The clothes on his body had dried up completely, and he sniffed under his armpits to make sure he no longer smelled.

Running his hands through his hair, He hoped his unusually long and matty hair was somewhat presentable as he stood in front of a house, ready to knock.

When the door opened.

He put his hand down, and smiled at the woman, chuckling disarmingly as he was faced with her stern look.

"Donna..." He spread his hands in the universal gesture of 'Here I am'.

The little lady harrumphed, "Un of da boys sai' they saw ya, comin' up da road, whistlin' n skippin'. I sai', 'It cannay be Quin. Ee cannay even walk strai'h.'"

He dropped his hands slowly, guessing from her crossed arms there was more to come.

He was right.

"An if It is 'im, and he can walk, an ee was alri'h, he wud 'ave come see me strai'h 'way." The angry woman took out a broom from the side of the doorway, and his eyes widened, "Wudn' ee?"

And brought it down upon him.

"Ouch! Ow! Don!" He jumped around the small space in front of the small hut, dodging the strikes from the twigs tied together at the end.

"It hurts!"

"As i shud! W'ere er ya?! Ha? T'ree days?!"

He yelped as the twigs hit him on his arms and head. The small woman was surprisingly strong.

He could see a gaggle of children behind the woman, peeking out from her sides and giggling at his fate.

"Do ya 'ave any sense?! I 'as outtae me mind!"

"Donna, Donna." He took hold of the handle of the weapon wielded against him and with a twist of his hands, relieved it from his attacker.

The woman harrumphed when she realised she no longer had the broom. Putting her fists on her hips, she glared at the intruder on the door, demanding an explanation.

He sighed. He had prepared for this. "I'm clean, Donna."

She blinked, hope blossoming in her eyes, which she visibly tried to suppress. He could understand that.

He had tried to clean himself up many times in the past few years. Nothing had worked.

The last time the original Quin had tried and stayed clean for a week. The last week of his life. He had wanted to try, for the little lady with the bleeding heart, that gave a stranger like him food and made sure he was alive. That had allowed him to stay in her barn till he could get his act together.

"Really, Donna. I'm clean."

"Oh!" She dropped the broom and pulled him in a hug. Her little body was dwarfed by his, but somehow it was him that was comforted. From his old memories, or from her assuring presence, he didn't know.

She pulled back too soon for his liking, patting his back with tears in her eyes as she ushered him in.

"Come o', the', come i'. ave som'ing ta ea'." He didn't refuse. She led him by his arm till he was sat in a creaking wooden stool, the throb of children that had been running after him since the doorway, settling on his sides, their wide eyes following him constantly.

He awkwardly met the gaze of a little boy, around four years old, and gave a tentative smile.

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The boy chuckled in delight, followed by the rest of the children.

"Oi, Sammy, let 'im be." The lady of the house pushed past the crowd of little humans as she set a clay bowl of hot- stew? broth?- something down in front of him. He could see the bits of vegetable mixed in, and was suddenly touched.

From his memories, he could recall that the harvest was not the best this year, and all everyone had been living on was animals. Vegetables were a delicacy.

He scooped up some of the stuff on the wooden spoon, brought it to his mouth-

-and immediately suppressed the gag that threatened to emerge.

Under the watchful eyes of his host, he smiled through the tastless, saltless, food in his mouth and swallowed.

"This is delicious. Thanks."

She relaxed, and patting his head went to the kitchen puttering away.

Only when he was sure that she was gone did he drop the next scoop back into the bowl.

Phew!

Looking around the eight children, four on each side, with their hands and heads on the table -or more of a stump really- as they curiously regarded him, a thought struck.

Scooping another spoonful, he held it towards the child closest to him. The child looked at the man curiously, and then upon further prompting, opened his mouth.

Eating the spoon of the food, he let out a loud squeal.

"Shhh!" Quin frantically put a finger on his mouth, looking around at the small group to make sure they all copied his gesture.

With many more muffled laughs, giggles, and secretive glances at one another, he soon started his mission.

One, two, three, four, five and six and - whose turn now?- and the next spoonful of porridge!(as Dinah had helpfully answered) went to the raised hand of the kid next in line as he took rounds around the circle, feeding the children and also himself occasionally- he had to eat something!- before the food was finally finished.

Unlike himself though, the kids didn't gag at the food. If anything, they seemed to love it.

The clapping and happy children stopped their movements, devolving in more shushes and snickers as Donna came back in the room and made space for herself on the tiny table, dislodging a kid or two.

"Do ya wan' mor'?" She asked as she sat her bowl down, and went towards him with a smaller clay bowl, intent on refilling his empty dish.

"No!" He covered the bowl with his body, wincing as the children broke out in giggles. Donna narrowed her eyes.

Okay, recover, quick.

"It's just- I'm full." Lame. But it seemed to do the trick as Donna went back to her own food. He watched her intently as she heartily enjoyed her meagre food. Looking around, he could spot oil lamps, and various clay pots littering the place.

After they were done, Donna took a small bowl and after uncovering the large pot in the corner, took out water that she drank and then offered to Quin. He followed her example.

Wiping her hands and mouth with the rough cloth tied around her waist, she rushed him to the barn.

"He will be home soon." She looked around the empty streets with trepidation once they were out in the open, with the moon shining down on them, "You should sleep now."

Saying this, she pushed the thick fur-lined blanket she had brought with her in his hands and giving him another pat on the cheek and a 'sleep well', went back to the house.

He would not lie, he was curious. He put the blanket on a pile of hay behind him- his old room- and ignoring the sounds of the animals went to peer out the door towards the house.

He had a clear view to the door.

From his memories, he could not remember why the secrecy. Granted, he had been high most of the time, and the people he hung out with in the clearing of the forest, with their herbs and medicines (his druggie friends- no use sugaring it) did not help in improving his memory at all.

His mind rebelled at the thought of an affair- she was like his elder sister!- so he knew it was something else.

So he settled in, and with only a sliver of the door open, started his watch.

It was not long before a tall and jacked man came into view. His arms were as thick as trunks and held a large axe, and broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist.

Quin looked at the thin, useless limbs on his body, at the puches of fat in his biceps and stomach, and shaking his head at the comparison looked back at the spartan warrior of a man in front of him.

As if he wasn't intimidating enough, the sharp predatory look in his eyes when he looked around the empty space, and the few houses, at the path to the forest as if determining a threat sealed the deal.

His long hair was tied back neatly into a ponytail and his hard face broke into an uncharacteristically warm smile when Donna opened the door and greeted him with a kiss.

He watched as they went inside, the sounds of the children starting up again at seeing their father.

He hmmed, and went to sleep on his bed of hay. He huffed at his earlier though of an affair, and cleared his mind of any more useless thoughts. For now, he was content.

He had a roof, his stomache was somewhat full.

Dreams beckoned.