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Durgans shoes sank into the thawing snow. It had started to rain. Durgan was not prepared for this weather, but his flight kept him warm. Avoiding the roads had proved more troublesome than he had anticipated - Durgan was still unfamiliar with the outdoors.

Returning to the road, Durgan soon found shelter. Warmth. Durgan stripped off his clothes to dry them, and heated some water for his tea and chicken broth. He noticed a couple of farmers daughters giggling as they peeked through the doorway, but Durgan didn't care. He was too exhausted to bother with women.

He had woken up the morning before, finding the farmer gone and his wife in poor condition, whispering his name. Then and there Durgan had ceased to care. His goddess was right. This wasn't his people, if it ever had been. For awhile he just stood there, watching the animal slowly die, still loving her husband to her last breath, feeling no pity for her.

For the first time in a long while, Durgan was at peace with just tea and chicken broth.