6 December
To: Oliver Thornstead
Bree-town
My Dear Uncle,
I pray this letter finds you and my aunt well, and in continued good health. I wish to convey my thanks for the days spent in the comfort and hospitality of your home. I appreciate the graciousness shown to me in all aspects, particularly in Aunt's delightful cooking, and in the desired and solicited counsel that you conveyed upon me.
Alas, business calls me back to the lumber camp for what is likely to be quite a while. Winter is upon us, and the need for firewood, of course, has begun, and will continue through the season. Now, if I can manage to keep a bit of coin in my pocket, instead of indulging in hot meals every evening at the Combe and Wattle, I may be in a good way to save up for a few things. The temptation to walk into Bree will no doubt abound, as the Prancing Pony has far better fare, as well as more varied company, music, and the like. But my pockets are already emptied from too many evenings there, and as you would doubtlessly like to remind me, it is no one's fault but my own.
A curious thing happened last evening that I think you might be amused to hear about, Uncle. A young woman, dressed very oddly in what seemed like clothes fitting for a woman of the wilderness, and with peculiar marks that seemed to be painted or etched onto her cheek, approached me out of nowhere and offered me a fortune telling. I hardly knew what to think, but she was a pleasant looking thing, and I was glad for a distraction from my thoughts, and so we went ahead with the affair. I was prepared to be entertained, and to engage her with the proper reactions to what I expected would be a lot of innocent nonsense. You may well imagine my surprise (and I hope you will not think me inventive or deceitful) when she began to tell me all about myself and my life, as if she had known me since my youth. Oh, I will not bore you with all of the long details of the conversation, but I thought about you, Uncle, when she advised me to listen to the counsel of those close to me. Certainly, this must mean my condescendingly wise Uncle, must it not? Ah, I can practically hear your laughter from miles away now! She proved a quiet and sweet bit of company, however, and I would be glad to meet her again. Oh, yes. I did not have any coin with which to pay for her fortune reading, but she agreed to receive a delivery of firewood in return. Any person, man or woman, who shows value towards things other than coin, will always have my respect.
The other woman (the one I spoke to you about during my visit) still lingers about the inn, quite often in the company of various men. A different one every time I see her, in fact. Her countenance is almost always unhappy now, and I daresay it is best if I simply do not speak to her at all. She does not have a kind word for me, and what fool would impose himself on such a woman? Whatever troubles her mind, it is not my affair, nor will I insert my presence where it is not wanted and can be of no use.
There was another matter I meant to write about, but it has quite slipped my mind now. I shall blame it on Butterbur's strong ale and too many nights of inadequate rest.
Until we meet again,
Westen
