A few days have passed since I last sat down to fill these pages. I would have written every single day, yet I wish to restrain myself some, to not fill this small journal too fast.
As I had decided, I left Bree the following morning after my last entry, heading in the opposite direction of my true destination, yet I did so with no regret, instead feeling quite elated about the prospect to explore at least the outskirts of that old forest, I heard so much about. Father would tell me stories, while I was sitting on his knees, nestled against his bony chest. I never knew father as a younger man, and wonder what he must have been like. I can not imagine him without his wisdom and white hair; a strapping lad perhaps, full of lust for adventure? I know he traveled, even as far as the frozen wastes of Forochel, yet this is leading away from my original point, and using up paper I just said I wished to preserve.
Following the directions given to me by father's friend, it took me about half a day's journey to reach the hide-out recommended to me, however, it was a pleasant enough ride, seeing me travel for most parts along the East Road heading towards Buckland. My silly heart was yearning to continue on, for I would truly love to visit the Shire. Father and I would spend the occasional market day in Staddle, for him to stock up on pipe weed, which he was ever so fond of. I would watch the hobbits go about their business, and they always struck me so wonderfully down to earth, concerned with that which truly matters in life - a loving family, good food, maintaining pleasant relations with one's neighbours. A simple kind of life, but one that hails all the rewards anyone could ever wish for.
Yet off the East Road I turned, towards what in no small measure came to appear a daunting army of trees and undergrowth before me, the closer my approach. I reached the forest edge and could feel a sense of dread befalling me, as I can honestly say I have never experienced before. I felt unwanted, even hated by that which surrounded me, alas Labhraim, Alvin and Motte, neither showed any signs of disturbance at all, and I recalled father's words in my mind: "If animals show fear, heed it, for they know much we in our ignorance will miss. Yet if an animal shows no signs of fright, trust that no evil is afoot."
As father's wisdom has never failed me, I calmed myself and began to speak to the leaves and twigs, the moss beneath my feet, and even the very air I was breathing. I tried to open my heart and mind to the surrounding nature, to show I was not hiding any ill will towards any that dwelt, and indeed, the feeling of dread began to ease, and I sensed my passing was no longer objected to. I still felt watched by unseen eyes, with some suspicion, but as I walked and gently stroked the leaves and branches in my passing, even that ceased, until eventually I reached the hide-out, safe and unmolested.
The hide-out is indeed well hidden, very small, a tiny hut, build predominantly from rocks gathered, its walls so overgrown, the unknowing would not notice it, yet it seems to be in frequent use, the inside tidy and pleasant enough. It lies but a small distance in from the forest edge, I gather to avoid the deeper parts of this forest, as well as probably to allow any occupant fast enough access to the East Road, either to journey onwards, or to observe others traveling upon it. It feels not unlike home, and serves my purpose of waiting for my guide more comfortably than I had dared hope.
And while waiting, I have taken up venturing deeper into the woods, in search of the herb I am so eager to retrieve, yet I can not deny that sheer curiosity is ruling me just the same. Father included in his stories the mentioning of occupants of this forest, namely a man and a woman, he simply called 'different'. The man's name is Tom, but shame on me for I have forgotten his wife's name. Father said they were old beyond count, though their appearance had remained untouched by the passing of time. That they were not of the Dunedin blood, but instead still far older, and that he had been blessed to have met both of them, in the years of his own youth, and that in fact this encounter had changed his life in many ways to the life I had come to know with him.
Thus far, the man and the woman, both have eluded me, as has the rare herb, and even though the forest has shown no further resentment towards me, I do sense that deeper within dwell forces still, which I should not tempt. I am welcome among these trees within limits, and must not push the boundaries set for me.
No sign as of yet of the man I am to meet here either, but father's friend did tell me I would be asked for some patience. Whoever that man is, he first will have to be notified, make his own arrangements for the journey, and then travel to this hide-out. It could still be days, but this at least gives me time to search for that plant, and with a bit of good fortune on my side, I may still also cross path with the mysterious man and woman. For that hope alone, waiting a few more days for my guide, shall be worth it indeed.
