~~~Dunbar, Scotland.~~~

John listened to the woman speak, how in god's name so many questions managed to fit into the little creature he didn't know. Surely when someone has that many questions inside they must simply explode. The fact that she had attempted to dodge all of his questions only made her that much more of a conundrum. Forcing her to directly answer his questions was likely to just piss her off, something he didn't really feel up to after she had shared his fire and all. On one hand he wanted to just shut her up and get to sleep. On the other he couldn't help but wonder about this increasingly odd stranger.

John stood up, turned to Morwyn and bowed.

"Yes, I am the son of Richard Burgh, Earl of Ulster. My name is John Burgh, Viscount of Ulster."

John returned to his previous position by the fire.

"So, Morwyn, tell me, who is your father? and how did you learn to write? I know of no noble daughter who goes by Morwyn and I would love to hear how a common Irish woman learns the art of writing."