From the moment I awoke beneath the looming bulk of Weathertop, my thoughts were bent to home. With any luck we would be there before nightfall, and my thoughts had already arrived. They had raced ahead to the stables, seeing how Jack was doing, and whether Muffin was still skittish. Visiting with Miss Brynleigh, telling her about Imladris, wondering what she would think of Mirwen's conclusions. Calling on Miss Baker, as she'd made me promise I would before I left, and hearing how her parents were recovering. Meeting Miss Syaven once more, and perhaps getting to speak to her about my journey and its perils. Finding how Miss Bottle's business was doing. Perhaps even seeing Miss Tylva, who I hadn't seen in months, or Miss Heulyn, friend of Miss Baker, or Miss Sareva who made the furs I'd worn on the journey, or even Haritha, who I hoped was doing well since… since all the things that happened between us.
The weather's turn to the better continued, with a cheerful sun melting most of the snow. By the time the Midgewater Marshes were in sight, the chill had eased almost to rival the memory of autumn that dwelled in Imladris, and I went without my cloak. As the gates of Hookworth came into view, Miss Adri told me to go on without her, as she would be heading farther north to finish whatever mysterious business she'd been given while in Imladris. She reassured me she'd be back in a few days and asked me to tell everyone, especially Miss Baker, that all was well. And with that, she spurred Rascal into a run heading north and soon vanished into the Chetwood.
The sun was low when Kestrel and I stopped to greet the gate guards and went on to the house to unpack. As I thought of making our way to the stables, a small worry began to grow in my gut. Miss Brynleigh would not be pleased at part of the tale, the Trollshaws wolves, and I began to dread having to tell her. But even her excessive worry, while worthy of dread, was also comforting. It was now of the warp and weft of home.
