Martin

My stuff is spread out around me. I have a bedroll, a horse, food and water. The general stuff that I like to keep with me in my walk through the Shadows.

Something feels odd. A little bit like when I'm using the Trumps to talk to Uncle Benedict. It isn't. Its Uncle Brand, I recognize him from the picture on his Trump. It looks as though he is standing in the middle of the Pattern, but mostly I am curious; how can he be calling me? There is no Trump for Martin, I am not a son of Oberon.

He has started talking, now, and I am trying to figure out what he's saying. It sounds like raving, if you really want my opinion.

The picture is firmer, now. Very firm.

And.

Oh.

That hurts.

I can feel myself bleeding, so I push him as hard as I can; breaking the connection. I can feel him trying again, so I push again. And again. My hands are clasped over the hole in my side, trying to keep me from bleeding out. I push, and I can feel the Shadows part.

This really hurts...