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"Be-because I love him so much, and I don't know what to d-do!" she sobs, blowing her nose deeply into the offered handkerchief.

"What about him makes you love him?" Jocelyn asks. Honestly, she thought that Skye just lusted after him, which wasn't surprising considering half of the town lusted after the man.

"Well," she says, sniffling, "he's nice, and kind, and you know, I could just tell when we met that we were destined to be together. I think about him all of the time, I even have dreams about him. But whenever I try to talk to him, he runs aw-a-a-aaaay!"

"Well, I could offer to talk to him on your behalf," Jocelyn says. "I can't promise that it will work out the way you want it to, but it doesn't hurt to try? After all, I talk to him quite a bit about...well about why he runs away from women."

"When will you do that?" she asks, a little more hopeful. "Tonight is Starlight Night, and I wanted to spend it with him." She sighs deeply. "I don't want to end up some old maid in my twenties, alone and forgotten!"

Jocelyn lets out a small sigh. "I'll talk to him this morning," she says.

"Okay!" she says, brightening and wiping her eyes. "But don't tell any of the other girls that you're helping me, or they'll want in on it, too."

"I won't say anything," Jocelyn assures the girl.

Certainly more grateful than the last time Jocelyn saw her in a situation like this, Skye turns and leaves.

"Urusla, I'm going out for a little bit. Keep an eye on things," she calls out to her ward.

She makes her way into town to go visit Andar, even though she knows this probably isn't going to go over very well.

Jocelyn arrives at the blacksmith and spots Alvor working at the forge outside, his 10 year old daughter, Dorthe, 'assisting' him. Andar and Sigrid aren't visible, but they might be inside.

"Excuse me, Alvor?' Jocelyn says as she approaches the blacksmith. "I don't want to take up too much of your time, but is Andar around?" she asks.

Alvor snorts dismissively at her. "Well, well, looks who it is," he says with a thick western Gontorian accent. "Andar is inside, upstairs, probably," he says.

"Hi, Pastor!" Dorthe says, waving, oblivious to her father's attitude.

"Hi, Dorthe!" Jocelyn says, giving the little girl a wave. "You wouldn't mind if I step inside to speak with him, would you?" she asks politely despite the fact it was obvious that the man didn't much like her.

Alvor nods, but doesn't take his gaze off the item he's forging.

Jocelyn steps inside and heads upstairs. She finds Andar in the attic, which has been partially converted into a makeshift bedroom for him. He's just sitting on his bed, eating a piece of cheese and absently looking out the window.