Barrow Fields My skin, my soul, my finest jewels

Were children valued so little in these lands that none had gathered this one to their bosom after such a tragic loss? The more he ruminated upon the idea, the stronger his displeasure burned; not with the little one in front of him but with the ones that had failed her, the ones that had not fought hard enough to protect her. Tragic though their deaths were, Stjornuati cast his judgment upon them. If this had been his child, he'd have fought tooth and claw, he'd have made sure there was someone to take care of her if something should happen to him, he...

Internal diatribe ceased, peering at the young girl with a livered colored gaze, thinking, wondering, deciding. Ja, He answerred firmly, bobbing his head to accompany his answer. This one will feed you. You come? The invitation was made as he turned slightly, his intention to lead her closer to the Watch. You have name, sá litli? This one is Stjor.

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