The woman paused at the gate. Two guards stood either side, eyeing her curiously, as well as the enormous, wolfish dog that stood several paces back from her.
"Tha' yours?" one the guards asked, gesturing towards the animal with his wooden shield.
"He is not mine," replied the woman in a low, velvety voice. And with that, she turned to look at the dog for a moment. The beast's head went erect, his folded ears perked, and his wagging tail stilled. He sneezed sharply, turned, and wandered off into the brush beside the road.
Returning her attention to the guards, she crossed her hands patiently over her stomach.
"Wha's yer business in town?" the same guard inquired. His head ducked a bit, as if he were trying to glimpse the face shadowed by the woman's dark-blue hood.
"It is my own," she answered quietly, and then added. "Only to stay at the inn for a time, and to rest from my travels."
The two guards exchanged a glance. The one who had not spoken gave a shrug, and then nodded to her.
Without so much as a word of thanks, she strode forward, passing through the gate, her robe swaying about her feet.
