Warm firelight and heat filled the small room of Serin's cliff side home. It was a small, homely room. Neatly trimmed moss covering were lain all about the floor for comfort of walking, the fireplace set itself right across from the entry door in the wall. Rolan lay on a thick rush mat that was pushed into a corner near the fire so as to warm its patron.
"How's he doing?" whispered Enoch to Kathryn who stood beside him in the doorway.
Eyes downcast at her paws as she rubbed them down with scrutiny with a moist rag, she replied in the same quiet tone, "A bit punished and weakened from lack of proper victuals, but otherwise, not in incredibly horrible condition. I've seen worse."
"Haven't we all." Remarked Enoch as he let his elbow down from leaning against the doorframe and walked towards Rolan.
Kathryn saw Enoch start moving closer, obviously to talk to the squirrel, immediately she grabbed him sternly by the shoulder. "No, not yet. He's still too weak. He needs more rest."
Stopping in his tracks, Enoch nodded, turned, and exited just as Serin entered.
Enoch patted Serin's shoulder while leaving to get something to eat. "What kind of wounds did he have?" asked Serin, in an acknowledged whisper.
"Horrible ones. Obviously for torture and maiming, not meant to kill, just cause pain. Many scars. His wrists were lacerated badly, the skin broken due to rope burn. Even more on his back, probably from being whipped. And it looked like he'd endured a lot of beating before all that."
"How's he resting?"
"Well."
"Good."
"Serin?" started Kathryn, as she turned to face her husband, her features no more concerned with the cold reality of war but instead on things closer to home, "do you think they'll come after him? After us because of what you and Enoch did?"
Serin was watching the slumbering squirrel, listening to his wife, "Does it matter?" asked Serin, as he turned and took her paws in his, "we must uphold the morals and honor we've lived all our lives and taught to Jerro. Anything less-"
"Could get us killed Serin." Finished Kathryn, "we need to start thinking not like vigilantes who are freeing slaves and heroically stealing grain. Those days are gone. The Order's gone. Now it's those Clansou's, and now there are fewer to hold the honor that we've held to. We can't fight them Serin."
"Then what do we do Kat, tell me what we do?" asked Serin, a little agitated.
"I don't know..."