Terribly pale. She wondered, then, if perhaps he had been ill, himself. There was something almost sickly, in his appearance. Her left hand flew to the small garnet cross around her neck, as her right hand tightened around the axe-handle.

She breathed in, once more, and told herself to relax her grip. He was offering condolences. He had seen terrible things.

"It is far better to discuss them than to fall prey to them," she offered, trying to sound lighter than she felt. "Perhaps we should not speak on such things."