We have been in Ost Forod for a few days now.
The tale of how I ended up in Trestlebridge, and then left with a man I didn't know to travel here, is long and eventful and I do not want to write it down. In my thoughts, it's a safe tale that I don't have to explain to anyone. Once written, it feels as if it's on view for the world, even though it is contained within the pages of this book.
We are to leave soon, I think. How I became a traveling companion to a grouchy blade for hire, I am not sure. I think he needs the company, or perhaps just craves it. I share a bedroll with someone that I do not touch, and I wake up still fully clothed, and without having touched him throughout the night. He might say otherwise, but he is wrong.
I like traveling with Endre. Despite how tough he tries to be, and how rough he is, I find that he is often quite the opposite.
Spending most of my time with the Healers here, I have discovered that Ost Forod lacks supplies, and I have given them most of what I could, and also my set of hands. It's hard work, but it isn't much different than Forochel, only that there is a lot less frost bite to deal with.
I didn't realize how eager I was to leave, and not to get away from Endre, but to continue traveling. I'm not quite sure where we are going next, but I hope we don't go any further north. The closer we get to Forochel, the more dread I can feel seeping into my heart. I want to convince him to take me to Bree. I have never seen it, and I have only ever heard things about it, that it's somewhere safe for refugees.
