I bought this journal while passing through the Shire, thought it’d give me something to distract myself with when I’m bored and practice my own penmanship. Never thought of keeping a journal, the prospect doesn’t seem exciting but It may come in handy when I’m wanting to write something down.
It’s been years now but I’ve decided to come back, crossed the Brandywine river not too long ago and now I’m taking a small break before continuing on through the Great East Road onwards to Bree town. I thought I would feel out of my element once returning the green expanse of the Bree lands, after residing in the Blue Mountains for all those years, but I feel right at home. Suppose I never realized that I was homesick.
I’ve thought it through but decided against returning to the farm, the place is probably a pile of rotting planks by now knowing my uncle, and I don’t want to invoke anymore melancholy onto myself. I’ll stay at the Prancing Pony tonight, been camping out far too often I sometimes fear that I’ll forget what it’s like to live among people. After that I might do some scavenging and hunting around Chetwood.
