Two Rivers Isle Last night I smoked a cigarette

Goliad's voice called to him from behind, and he smiled and turned to greet the man. Good day, he said, and then blinked. Stories... Yes. Yes, he had implied stories, hadn't he? Well... if the man of the desert was going to be a proper historian, then he needed stories to memorize, didn't he? Yes, he murmured, thinking. Walk with me back to the trees, will you? It's freezing out here. He changed direction and began to aim himself back towards the forest to the south.

What sort of stories did you want? Ones about the Isle, I think we said. He sighed. Really, how the Isle came to be is more about mine and Adylaide's history, which goes back... years. How far back would you like me to go? It was then that he wondered whether his wife would even like the idea that he was sharing intimate details of her life with a stranger. He decided then to focus on himself as much as he could, and Adylaide could tell her side of it to Goliad if she wanted to later.