*sighs, as she sits under a tree outside of Bree-Town and wraps a black crochet shawl around her shoulders from the chill*
Lost my old trusty leather bound journal, so looks like I shall have to begin again. But, I wonder, if it is wise to keep such thoughts written?
I haven’t spoken to a soul in a week, last person being were an old tramp in Beggar’s Alley...I gave in to his begging and handed over my last ten silver to buy himself something to eat. I watched him shuffle towards The Prancing Pony… *shakes her head* …ah well, only money.
I notice an influx of strange folk in the streets of Bree and around, these last few moons...wonder why that is I wonder, maybe the rumours are true.
Reminder to myself: Must spend the next month seeking more medicinal plants!
*puts her journal into her old tattered leather bag, as she watches a slow cart go past with two people singing Merrily*
