trigger warning: loss of baby, stillborn

Although I was happy travelling on occasions, I was not a wanderer at heart. I had dwelt in two homes only. Until I was fourteen my family had all lived in the farmhouse, northwest of Edoras. Then I had lived just outside Harwick with my parents, and my father alone, after my mother had died.  There was the year at Forlaw, which strangely enough had always seemed home to me, far more than Harwick ever had. There were the months in Stangard, which I wish had never occurred.

Xandilif leaned back in her chair, hands against her face. Scattered before her on the table were maps, sketches, reports and scribbled letters.

(The following takes place immediately after A Package from Home - Asmalinde...Xan's Humble Chronicler)

Winnie sat there, looking at Tarsorel. He wanted to help her get better with being able to be touched and touch, not related to healing. She had spent a long time outlining the problem and how Ryheric had helped her so far. How Silver and Lavendara were helping her be more comfortable with touch. She thought on this, how strange it would seem to an outsider. Being able to be jostled, patted on the shoulder, playful swats or jumps where touch might occur, even comfort at involves touching. It was all she longed for.