It had been a good day. She'd had tea at the Pony, made a new friend who didn't seem to even notice she was a mute. She'd left at the fall of night, knowing that she stayed far too long, and would be late getting home. Tosie had always hated the dark, it made her feel helpless. She had promised her brother she'd start carrying around that dagger he gave her, but she never did. Perhaps, it would have helped her tonight, even if she wasn't quite sure of how to use it.
Her last thoughts were a blur of motions, colors and sounds. The first that came to her mind was Ealbrand, the brother she was closest to, and spent most of her time with. He came all the way from Cliving just to look after her, leaving behind his home and the rest of his family. She thought of her home, Rohan, and how much she had been yearning for it recently, and her brothers and father that were there waiting for her.
Why was she lying on the cobblestone? It was wet, and cold, and she couldn't remember how she got there. She could be dreaming, of course. Yes, that's all it was, a horrible, terrible dream. Around this time, Corrben had drifted into her thoughts. What was it, she had heard that watcher saying to that blonde lass? That all of Corrben's women had meant nothing, had been nothing. She had always felt like nothing, she really hadn't needed to hear the man say that to confirm it. She had been his little rabbit, always just slightly out of his grasp. And finally, he stopped chasing her, and she ran off to be chased by someone else. That was the way she spent most of her life in Bree, it seemed. And what a sad life that had been, that she completely and utterly blamed herself for. Eordion, Corrben, Ildrand. The three men she spent tossing around as if they were toys.
If she would think properly, if she was fully awake, she probably would have heard whatever the man was frantically saying to her. She drifted in and out and she knew that she shouldn't, no matter what, close her eyes, but Tosie suddenly felt so tired. She had never felt this tired before in her whole life, she reckoned. But she felt herself being carried, quickly, off down the road.
Claery, the (seemingly) innocent girl Tosie had met, who wanted nothing more that first day than to braid her orange hair. She didn't have many girl friends, but Claery was the one she liked the best. The next thoughts were of Aren, and his cousin, and how hated she was by the young girl. Over something she knew nothing about, Tosie thought. She'd only got half of the story, she never bothered to hear Tosie's side. She didn't really care, that much. Aren had said he'd cut his cousin out of his life, to make her happy. He had said that he loved her, and she had never returned the phrase. She didn't know if she loved him, but in that moment she wished she had told him anyway, because now he'd never hear it from her.
And, finally, she thought of Meredith. Her sweet, beautiful daughter that she had never laid eyes on, or heard, or even touched. But, there she was, completely tangible and holding out her hand. It was a familiar sight from a similar situation, though this time, Tosie was torn between taking the child's hand, where it was warm and nothing hurt, or turning around and walking back toward reality, where her friends and family were waiting for her, and her body felt as if it had been torn apart.
