The amazing Christopher Paolini owns the Inheritance Cycle. I do not.
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Push the needle through the loop, wrap the yarn around, pull the yarn through the loop, slip the loop off, repeat, repeat…
Gertrude had been knitting for years, so long that she could do it with half her mind somewhere else- usually off in one of the books she read when she could catch a spare moment. Once in a while she found bits about the Riders, which she treasured. If only they would come back…
A knock at her door jolted Gertrude out of her reverie, almost making her drop the impending blanket for her sister's baby. She ran to the door, flinging it open-
"Brom?"
The town storyteller stood at the door, the unconscious, bloody form of Eragon in is arms. Behind him, Horst and Delwin carried Garrow between them. The reclusive farmer looked like most of his skin had been burned off.
She ushered them in quickly, telling them to lay them on the floor. She tended to Eragon first, as she felt she might still be able to help. For Garrow, on the other hand, it seemed the most she could do would be to make him more comfortable.
Eragon's legs were skinned, almost like saddle sores. Saddle sores? But he wasn't riding anything, was he? Brom had said merely that Eragon had been found on the road, dragging the badly injured Garrow on a board.
Well, anyway, Getrude had to bandage him up before he lost too much blood. Trying to preserve what modesty the boy might have left, she started cleaning up his legs, sponging off the blood with a wet rag.
She carefully pulled a small, flat, hard object out of his leg, setting on the table as she bandaged him up. After tending to Garrow, whom she had the men move to Horst's house, she cleaned and inspected the strange object.
It was a deep, hard blue, just like the stone Eragon had been carrying around when the traders had last been in town…
She pulled one of the books off the shelf and turned to a brightly colored ink picture of a dragon, next to what it had looked like as an egg. The egg. The one in the picture was a deep, rich, chocolate brown, but it looked exactly like the stone. Egg. It's a dragon scale. Eragon is a Rider! They're back!
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Several months later, the baby's blanket was finished, with a small blue dragon scale woven into the exact middle.
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Author's note: Please review?