“This is our place.” he said to me, as he tried to pull the rotting wooden door back to cover the cave entrance. 

Of all that has befallen me in my defense of the people of Eriador and the preparation for the restoration of Arnor by my chieftain, nothing has so deeply struck my spirit as the events of the last few days. The events recounted in this entry are contradictory, filled with both dread and joy, apprehension and hope. My duties in Breeland fulfilled, I have finally moved to the bounds of the Lone Lands, as per the wishes of the Commander of the Company of the East Road.

NOTE: For reference, see the following stories...A Trip to the Library, Bad Fish, Reunion, Anything, Everything and Nothing, and many more - Xan's Humble Chronicler

Finchley adjusted her hat - nicer and softer than what she was used to but she liked it well - as she strolled through the shining streets of Dol Amroth. Alone. Her first choice would have been Minas Tirith but that was quite the distance and she'd surely get scolded. Dol Amroth was the next best choice. No doubt some others would still disapprove of her going places by herself, despite the fact that she had done so before for years. But that didn't bother her so much. They all cared about her in their own way. She still valued her freedom after all.