There's a new face in the Gallows, however temporarily: a stout woman in her early 50's, tallish, whose drably-clothed figure suggests a lifetime of heavy farm work and having children.
None of them are about, and she looks all the lonelier for it, a stoic-if-slightly-confused presence in the halls near the infirmary. She spends most of her time within, sitting by her brother's bedside in quiet conversation; but everyone has to eat sometimes, and get fresh air, so periodically she can be found picking her way awkwardly through the dining hall or sitting outside on the courtyard steps, hands folded and gaze skyward.
She's from a completely different world, and this place, its residents, are beyond strange, but she won't shirk from a conversation. People are just people, after all.
P R U D E N C E
None of them are about, and she looks all the lonelier for it, a stoic-if-slightly-confused presence in the halls near the infirmary. She spends most of her time within, sitting by her brother's bedside in quiet conversation; but everyone has to eat sometimes, and get fresh air, so periodically she can be found picking her way awkwardly through the dining hall or sitting outside on the courtyard steps, hands folded and gaze skyward.
She's from a completely different world, and this place, its residents, are beyond strange, but she won't shirk from a conversation. People are just people, after all.