When Will first arrived at fifteen, mostly blind and utterly deaf, he was in pain, frightened, and angry. My hands will forever carry the scars from those first months of biting.
One day, early on, Atticus and I left him behind to escape one of his attacks. Will was not very mobile then and had just collapsed in a heap to sleep.
Perhaps some magic was in the air because this was the day Aragorn, only a yearling then, followed us home. And he often visited during those Will years.
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