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She was a wretched sight, Beryl thought, as Baobahn Sith lay sprawled out on the bed, warped and decaying. He watches silently as she lifts her hand out in a bleary daze with outstretched fingertips that never reach him, their flesh sloughing off and falling to the floor between them.
“Beryl, Beryl…!”
He strokes her head gently but there’s no kindness to it. It is the detached and pitying gesture of one who had stumbled upon fatally wounded animal. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. What a pathetic end for a great and mighty Tam Lin.