#gorwen

“Recently enough.” Tossdir shrugs, but the dark circles under his eyes tell a different story.

Gorwen folds her arms and raises an eyebrow “And how recently is that?”

“That’s not important. I am not tired, and there is still work to be done,” he says bluntly, moving to step around Gorwen, who had been blocking his path out of Tornhad “Those lynx aren’t going to hunt themselves, and Angwedh needs the hides.”

Gorwen steps in front of him again “Did he actually ask you to go out hunting for them?” she asks almost in disbelief. Surely he had not intended to make Tossdir go out running errands in the wilderness for him now, not when he’s so recently returned and clearly exhausted. Not after she had told him what happened to Tossdir in Sarch Vorn…

“...not exactly, no.” Tossdir mumbles, looking away irritated. “He would not give me a task when I asked for one, but I did overhear him mention that he needed-”

Gorwen puts a hand up “I think he had good reason not to give you a task! You’re practically a dead man walking, and at this rate you’ll be one literally.”

Tossdir’s expression darkens at those words “I’ve already been a dead man walking. This is nothing new to be concerned about.”

Her stern expression falters somewhat, but she remains in place “Ah- I apologize… that was a poor choice of words… But I still disagree.” she says firmly “You’re clearly in no condition to be out doing this. There will still be plenty for you to do after you’ve rested.”

“There is plenty to do right now.” he still insists. “Besides… you’ve heard what some of the others were saying haven't you? I… need to make up for lost time.”

Gorwen had indeed heard of this. Although it was an opinion that seemed to be held by very few, she heard some doubting Tossdir’s loyalty. After he seemingly abandoned them to follow a deserter for so many years, the displeasure some held for Meneldir carried over to Tossdir. Thankfully, this was not a widely held opinion as far as Gorwen could gather, and it was relegated only to hushed whispers and occasional disapproving glances. 

But evidently Tossdir had heard the whispers and caught the glances, so despite the fact that most of the other rangers –even some of those who had once thought Meneldir a brigand or worse– were understanding of his plight, he had still been made to feel like an outsider in his own home.

“They do not speak for all of us, Toss.” she assures, placing a hand on his shoulder. He feels tense. “You do not have to ‘make up’ for anything, least of all the time you spent trying to bring Meneldir back.” She looks at him sadly, it pains her to see her friend putting himself through this, and more so it pains her to see that this is the welcome he received after his long absence. Their people have long memories, and unfortunately that means forgiveness does not come easily to some of them.

“They may not speak for you, but they still speak for themselves well enough…” he says quietly. Gorwen briefly considers finding those dissenters and giving them a piece of her mind, but thinks better of it. Unfortunately, violence will not solve this problem.

“And they are not worth listening to, for they know naught of what they speak. Working yourself to death will not change their minds about anything.” Tossdir remains stone-faced, she’s not sure if her words are getting through.

“...I take it you’re still not letting me past, then?” he asks, finally growing tired of their stalemate, and much to Gorwen’s surprise seeming ready to admit defeat. She honestly expected him to put up more of a fight, considering how stubborn Meneldir told her he can be.