I have returned to Bree for the first time after leaving, coming back from a long journey that had taken me through the Shire and up to Evendim. Somewhere along the way, though the details are fuzzy and I don't remember how, I lost Oranthir along the road. We simply parted ways and I cannot for the life of me recall why, or what happened. The year I spent in Evendim was fruitless, I did not learn any more about what I'd come to look for, and dejectedly I turned my face toward Bree and continued back.
It was easy to fall into a haze, to forget things that had come to pass, and set my sights solely on Bree and returning. There was a thick layer of dust over the furniture and floor of my home when I returned, causing me to throw open the doors and windows and spend sun up to sun down sweeping and scrubbing until it looked brand new, though the latch on my bedroom window is still broken.
There's a string of new faces I've met over the past couple of weeks, from the strange hooded man in the back to a man named Lothaer, who I dabbled in business with very briefly. Most notably, perhaps, was meeting Bersvir, who seems to have taken it upon himself to take me under his wing, from one foreigner or another. I'm writing from downstairs in the spare bed, long after Bersvir went upstairs to go to sleep. He's purchased a piece of land and wants me to work on it, but I have not decided. I imagine he'll house a number of his laborers in the coming months.
Bryston has been a kind face and a new friend, always jovial and friendly whenever he has come across me. I have written a letter to Lothaer that I can no longer do business for him, as it's not the kind of thing I want to get accidentally entangled with the other work I may start doing soon. And because Bers was right, it is not a life I should be stepping back into.
