Much Improved

Barahirn managed a smile. It was still a bit one sided, but it felt good to him. Danel had finally permitted him to look in a mirror. No more yellow bruises, he could clearly see that. That had been what everyone mentioned when they first saw him.

"Oh, the bruises! Well, they will fade."

He smiled again. No one had wanted to say 'You look terrible', but he had known he did, he felt he did. 

And now, though he still used a straw sometimes, his jaw worked as it once had. He could drink, eat, chew. With a little care though. If only his legs worked as well as his face.

He thought on Curumaito, the Healer, and what he owed him. Not coin, but such gratitude that he had not been given up on, but made to exercise what muscles he could every day. He had been coddled as a favoured child, and spoken sternly too like a young recruit. He had been given pain numbing herbs, then weaned off them as soon as feasible, so his mind was again clear of thought. 

Oh, he owed Curumaito much!

And the others at Numenstaya, also. No day passed without Ceuro visiting, nor Danel. Parnard dropped by quite often, usually with some new tempting desert concoction involving wine. Estarfin spoke with him a little, telling him of how the ditch digging was progressing and of plans for defense. That was a mixed blessing, for he yearned to be able to work alongside the others. 

And that gave him even more impetus to become whole. 

He would stand beside his 'family', he would work and hunt with them. And soon, as soon as was possible, he would find and slay the Man who murdered Aearlinn.