9 September
To: Oliver Thornstead
Bree-town
My Dear Uncle,
I pray this letter finds you and Aunt in the best of health and happiness.
Employment has continued to be a challenge, but I am not entirely out of pocket yet. I count myself blessed to have these large hands and broad shoulders, as there is always someone who needs something lifted, hauled, or moved about. I intend to speak with Mister Thorne again before winter arrives, in the hopes that my health will have returned to its previous vigour, and that he will need an extra set of such hands before the cold settles in. I know that the strength of a man's youth is a fleeting thing. I am not bragging so much as counting myself fortunate for whatever years I have left of being useful to others. The fire at the tavern, which I'm sure you heard about, only serves to lessen my options for making a living at this time. But if I am anything, it is a man of simple tastes. I need no large house, no fine linens, no lavish meals. I have no wife nor children to support. And I will get by just fine with a hot meal each evening and a bed out of the rain. Old Butterbur is as obliging as he ever was, and more than willing to accommodate his friends. I will offer my back to whatever he might need in the way of lifting and carrying, to make up for the inconvenience to him.
I doubt you recall my relaying to you of the evening whereupon I had to carry home a very inebriated young woman from the Prancing Pony, in the company of a man going by the name Gregwald. No, I have not seen the woman, but in fact, the man. A few evenings prior, another young lady came up to me and spoke quite out of nowhere. I don't find it particularly endearing when women approach men in such a fashion, but after conversing with her for a few minutes, I found her quite enjoyable. Piper Plumwood is her name. (Perhaps Aunt knows something of her or her family?) What does this have to do with Gregwald? Only that while she seemed eager to speak with me, it wasn't long after that I found her speaking with him. And so far, so good. These young, single lads and lasses may speak to whomever they like. I saw them again last night, together and bantering away like a couple in courting, with many a jest and flirtation, at least from his side of things. After she departed, he came over and greeted me, and I was pleased that he recalled me from so many months ago. He claims that Miss Plumwood is his employer, which struck me as peculiar, as she looks too young to be employing anyone or anything. But then, he can't be much older than she, and perhaps this is all their way of feeling each other out for a more serious future relationship. My only concern is that she is so young, and he made a comment or two about his fondness for female company in general, which leads me to wonder if his regard for her is not exclusive. Alas, it is not my business; at least not yet. So I will leave them to do as they will. It is certainly understandable that in a village where there is little to do beyond gossip and drink, that these young people engage in endless games of flirtation and pursuit with each other.
I confess that I would not mind seeing the fortune teller again. Her conversation and company were stimulating and intriguing, unlike the banal exchanges that one finds most often around Bree.
Until we speak next, I remain your affectionate nephew,
