A morning stroll.



It was an early dawn, and the weakened sun sifted through the dusty panes of the Pony. A few patrons meandered here and there, no doubt expecting breakfast, but none too many that Barliman couldn’t handle. A swift trek it would be, through to the cemetery not far north of the town, to see to the grave of her father. Donning cloak and cowl, Joy strode through the town feeling the brisk air of the morn. Only a few towns-folk were up and about and only a couple of merchants setting up for market. Joy wrapped her cloak about her, feeling the cold and took to the fields outside of town.

It didn’t take too long to arrive at the graveyard, the small rows of roughly carved tombstones clearly crumbling and in disrepair. The air was still in the small dell, the tips of the tree’s wavering in a slight breeze; the sun had cast its lengthy shadows over the walls and stones. Joy walked up to Dirk’s grave and simply stood; she clasped her hands and looked over the stonework to the grass.

'Hmm, hello Pa...’tis Joy...'

She paused for a moment, feeling out of sorts, her visits here all the more infrequent and guilt becoming Prevalent.

'I don't have any flowers with me today...too early in the day for purchase...and none in the fields, the onset of winter and such.'

A crow called out from the boughs before gliding overhead,

'Weather's still nice, and harvest has begun...though the inn isn't so busy of late. Gives me more time to myself.'

Joy crouched and picked up a select few strands of moistened grass. Dew lingered upon fence post and brush as chilled air set in.

'I've…hm...been searching for family, the Ferngrove’s, what with Ma now gone. ‘Tis quite lonely at times... Though I can't help feel some sort of betrayal, towards Ma...she wouldn't have wanted it so, eh?'

Joy waited as if expecting some answer or acknowledgement. The black winged bird returned and circled an old drooping tree, before landing upon a weighty branch. Joy paused, watching it as it edged its way over the bough. She tore her gaze from it and looked back at the grave.

'Oh Pa...I miss her… and ye, of course.'

She let out the quietest of sighs and stood slowly.

'Say, I shall come back later at sundown...in better spirits and with flowers to boot. I'll give ye more news and such.'