“Hwitwater tumbles down from the Hemeldowns and runs through the Northweald, where she slows till she widens into the Folkmere, right here. Hwitwater’s a rough, foamy sort. Not like t’other one. The Withweald runs soft. Her waters’re clear, even blue in hue. But the two mingle in the Folkmere, which runs out as the Folkwater. Now, Folkwater winds all the way to Birch Bay and joins the Great Sea with no end. I been all over these rivers — been a riverman since I was a lad.” He favored them with a toothless grin.
