I made it home, Mr Journal. Well, it really doesn't feel like a home, it's my library. I tend to give Pup most of the ownership, since she needs it more than me. The only money I own I put into rent here. Since I fish for my own food and drink from streams. I can see Pup keeps the place stocked with food and drink, that's nice I suppose. It's a nice little library if I do say so myself, bookshelves on every wall. The large room is just bookshelves lining the walls and a fluffy bear rug on the floor. (I tend to use it as a bed if I'm here) The other room is where I have my desk and more bookshelves. The main room has a little pool in the center.
I rode Pug from the north, since I can actually walk now. I limp a lot, I don't think my leg will ever fully heal after what I did. I deserve it though, it'll be a constant reminder of what happened. I don't think Forgoil was very happy when he saw Pug and I riding home. Ever since that thing happened, he's been a bit protective. I haven't left that little camp in quite awhile, and probably would still be there if I wasn't tired of wearing the same leather armor over and over. I decided I had to get home, I need to change and everything. So he helped me home, which was nice.
The little pool in my house is generally warm, well as warm as the room around it. It was relaxing to soak in it, the water made my leg and torso feel better. And since I can talk now, I was able to really talk to Forgoil for a bit. Talking's nice, although I think it upsets him that my leg won't heal. I hope he doesn't blame himself for what happened. I don't want him to have to live with more guilt than he already does. What happened, happened. It's in the past. Perhaps down the road I'll grow the courage to tell you what happened, Mr. Journal. However, for now, I will merely state what happened was the worst thing I think ever happened to me. That mindset is worst than any man throwing you into flames. Worst than women mocking me because of my scars and burning new scars into my side.
When someone hurts you, it just hurts. It goes away, and although trust might break down, you recover in many ways. But when it is you doing it, it hurts far worst. You break your trust within yourself, your own confidence. If it wasn't for Dog and Pug, well.... nevermind.
Anyways, I'm exhausted right now. Everything feels numb. I think I will lay down on the bear rug and sleep once more. I do a lot of sleeping now days, probably because I'm still healing. Remind me to replace that rug by the way, maybe get a fluffier rug. That would be nicer to sleep on.
Goodnight, Mr. Journal.
