*The script is written quickly with sharpened edges of the letters denoting Anna is extremely stressed or angry. Of which she is both.*
How I despise many, in a sense, despite my love for them. The friends I have made who fight with as much prowess as their will power and strength gives them... My will is much stronger than my strength which I have learned is a key factor in fighting. If one has not that strength for battle then one is not fit. My friends and family run off to battle the enemies of Angmar and Mordor whilist I stay in Bree, hopin that before this war ends I might meet my glorious battle and help the Free People win their right to Bree-Land, Rohan, Gondor, and Dale. As for now I simply hope for an easy and fast recovery. One without much re-training require to catch myself up to where I was before thhat hammer of fate fell and swept me into the crippled state I now loathe.
Oh how I wish I was fit for battle. I am but a young spirit, barely the age of a score and one. Should such a demise fall of me now that I must be home bound for the rest of this life. I wish to save that for when I am well past my current age, and content with my scars and accomplishments in life. I still have alot of life left, may it or may it not be shortened by the sharp edge of a weapon, and I surely do not wish fot it to be spent sitting in a tavern or home helpless to the world outside.
