I travelled with Feorh after some days passed with the council of knights. It seems we shall be moving northwards. I took the Greenway toward Trestlebridge, though never made it. Not far from the road clearing was a disturbance amongst grass...an area clearly flattened by something of weight.
Amongst the flattened grass was a small sack, embellished with unusual trophies from beasts...it was too small to carry anything of true worth. A bundle of rations...and a book... The book is worn, as I flick through its pages even now, a leather skin keeping a hold of its contents. Amongst the pages are mostly maps. Clear and concise, loose and able to be removed at ease. There is a letter I have spent some days in deciphering,
Dear Lahja,
My sister it is good you can recieve these notes of purpose, at least for the short time that storms have not set in. Perhaps when you read this I may be sat alongside you, as I have decided to return home. I believe my path has stopped, I can not travel further east or south without certainty I may return...and in honesty I miss you all. I was meant to have ventured for as long as I have, but Suri-Kyla is where I am meant to be now.
If you recieve this early, I hope you welcome me back and that I may witness your union with your betrothed. It shall be a joyfull occassion and I am truelly happy for you.
My love to mother and father, and our many siblings. Till our paths meet under the wandering lights.
Your sister, Rhoana.
There are several sheets like this, text in crude form running accross the page. Many appear to be in the practice of letter formation, all in Westron. Some are...a documentation of more personal matters, a diary. There are mentionings of names and the inn of Bree. I can not help feel some sorrow looking over the pages, but it is...also...intruiging and exciting to have such insight. None the less, I shall make search for someone who may know the where-abouts of the girl in question, and hopefully I may return her work to her. It could be she fled back to Bree, whomever laid on that grass lost blood, clearly wounded...but Bree was still only a half days walking distance at most, if not less. She or the carrier, may have made it.
Other then this, I turned back toward the halls, I shall await a more unified decision upon matters of the eored migrating to the North Downs, and my personal role to play in such matters. I would be thankful of some rest...
