An old man, his face merry as the morning sun stepped through the door of the inn, a quiet day, though children played about, watched by two women no doubt giving the other mothers a rest, for there were too many children to be mothered by two. The day was fairly new, and beams of light invaded the darkness of the room, the dust highlighted as specks, as though miniscule wisps dancing through the air.
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Brigferth
