The spawling tree offers protection for my horse from the beginning rain.

I enter my van to fetch a pan of grain for Lightfoot. I motion to Scourge and she flies up into the branches of the oak.

While I loosen Lightfoot's bridle so he can eat comfortably, I see two females come out of the Tavern. An odd pair to be coming out of the tavern. The small one stares in my direction while the tall one places a heavy cloak around the little one's shoulders then pulls up the hood. The tall one throws me look that is obviously a warning and leads the small one away. I shrug off the thought of the two, intent on the care of my horse.

Stroking Lightfoots neck and humming to him I suddenly give a start as something wet touches my ankles and makes a pleading "Re-ow." A cat! "What in this world are you doing out here?" I say to the unhappy looking creature. (I get along much better with animals than people). I knew the cat wanted food. "Sorry kitty, I haven't stopped to cook today." Then looking toward the tavern I had a thought. Stooping to pick up the poor wet cat, I tried to assure it, "Maybe we can find a nice bowl of milk and some scraps for you in there." Scratching under the feline's chin, I headed for the tavern, reading outloud the sign over the door, "The Wandering Woman. How appropriate."