Enter a woman, no longer a maiden and not yet (or no longer) old, with the deportment of a matron and sad green eyes far older than that. She is disoriented, lost, and for a moment she stares at the back of her hands, for they are no longer the gnarled and wrinkled hands of an old woman, but young and strong again; as is the rest of her
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*and so it's a brief moment before she's gathered herself enough to answer him* --Thank you, my lord. *bows her own head in turn* My name is Andreth; I fear I have lost my way. (*that's an understatement, it really is*)
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