Defi and the youth's sister, who he learned was called Adtra, had to talk fast so that Haral wouldn't rush to the northern farm half-frozen and garbed in damp mud-caked clothes.
"Why was he in the river though?" He asked the question to the more sensible older sister once Haral had been convinced to at least wash up.
"Amary cannot use her legs. A problem since birth." Adtra accepted another cup of spiced wine from him and determinedly sipped.
Defi didn't think she even noticed the taste.
Her voice was almost mechanical.
"When we moved in with Grandfather, he had a special wheeled chair made by an artificer in Agamarl, one where she could move the wheels by rotating cranks with her hands." She smiled gently, and her face was lightened by emotion to considerable beauty. "Amary is not one to feel low too long, but I had never seen her so happy as when she could move under her own power."
"I see." Defi wanted to see such a chair himself.