Two days later, Wenhan's leg was throbbing through the makeshift bandage he had wrapped around it, and his head was aching with the same frustrating pain he had been dealing with, but his mind was on neither of those. Instead he was fully focused on the caravan encamped on the hill, their tarps spread out to keep the rain away and their horses tied underneath. Said horses were looking very tempting at the moment, but so were the fires and the scent of food cooking.

"What are you planning?" Yibo asked him quietly from where he crouched beside the shorter man. Wenhan briefly considered telling him to mind his own business but checked that urge, reminding himself that he probably owed the boy his life. Not that he didn't think that he could have killed the big man in the inn, but nevertheless, he was grateful.

He also wasn't sure how to answer that question. "I... haven't decided yet," he admitted slowly, almost afraid to let the younger man see his indecision. It was true though. He could admit that he needed proper bandages and maybe some strong liquor to help the pain in his leg, but he was also wary of entering an encampment wounded. Wasn't that simply asking for trouble? If he saw a wounded traveler, the first thing he would think to do would be to take their belongings; it wasn't as if they'd be able to stop him. But he did need help, or at least, their horses. 

Yibo took the decision away from him then, standing and walking toward the encampment through the rain. "What are you doing? Get back here!" Wenhan hissed, but Yibo ignored him and continued forward up the hill. Wenhan had no choice but to follow, lest the boy tell the travellers that a man had stolen him away and now lurked, injured, outside their caravan. That would set them on their guard and take away every chance of using them or stealing from them. 

Yibo had already reached the caravan by the time Wenhan stood to follow, and because of the throb in his leg, it took the Hand several more moments to reach the cover of the tarps. Wenhan was grinding his teeth by the time he made it to the edge, but when the words that were being passed between Yibo and a thin man reached his ears, he could have spat fire.

'... truly blessed to find you here. Tell me, what is it like to train in the temples? We have of course stopped to offer worship when we are near one but I cannot imagine the miracles you must have seen being so close to the Mother's healing!"

The enthusiasm in the man's voice only served to confirm that he was a follower of Siakera, and Wenhan automatically turned to leave. Surely Yibo would tell them who it was that he traveled with and what he had done, now that he was back among his own kind. Even if they were sheep, they could still be dangerous to a wounded wolf.

Then he heard the boy's response, and paused in his flight. "I will be happy to tell you all I can, sir, but please. I humbly ask for shelter and help for my friend. He is not a believer but he has been injured, and as the Mother teaches, kindness should be shown to any, even those who do not ask for it."

The man looked past Yibo to set eyes on Wenhan for the first time, and though his thin face tightened a bit around the corners of his eyes, he beckoned him closer. "Our fires are welcome to all. Come."

Hesitant, not totally willing to once again put himself under the care of Siakera's people, Wenhan made his way into the encampment. Several more of the people had gathered by that time, watching him warily, but then a slender woman ducked out of one of the wagons with a bag in hand. "Bring him here," she told Yibo firmly, and for the second time in as many days, Wenhan started in surprise to hear the accents of home.

His stomach was churning as Yibo led him toward her, his mind feeling as if he were being pulled into the past with every step he took. Even her eyes reminded him of his mother, and his hands clenched into fists as he took a seat at the crackling fire. Why was he being thrown in with these people, being forced to confront the memories that he strove to avoid? It was bad enough that they haunted his dreams, must he now face them in waking? 

The woman took one look at his face and paused, and Wenhan realized that he had b