It is on one of Lorne's solitary sojourns out into the street that his paths cross with the friendly neighbourhood itinerant skald again, who must be on his way back to the stables if the large grey carthorse ambling along at the end of a lead rope is any indication. He clicks his tongue at her to coax her to a stop, rests a hand on her broad neck, and then smiles curiously at Lorne.

"I would not have expected to see you up and about so soon," he says by way of greeting, "but I am glad of it nonetheless. How are you fairing?"