The walk back home was uneventful, compared to what had just transpired in the forest. Bryony walked with a slight limp, scrapes and bruises littering her body. Tivlyn had bandaged her head as best as she possibly could, though it still throbbed and ached with every step she took. Bryony was just glad that she got out of that situation alive. A few bumps and scratches were just a part of the adventuring experience.
As she continued walking, she lost herself in thought. She expected this entire ordeal to put her off adventuring, to stick to reading books and experiencing the adventure in her mind. Instead, something within her seemed to spark and fizzle at the thought of doing it all over again. Perhaps with less terrifying voices coming from the woods and giant spiders who wanted nothing more than to eat her whole.
Her mind whirled at all the possibilities. She could visit towns and cities she only ever saw on maps in her father's books. She could meet men, elves and dwarves, perhaps befriend them and learn of their culture. She could dance, sing, shout and laugh without her neighbours complaining.
Smiling, she walked the path up to her home, a slight spring with her step alongside the limp, ignoring all the looks and glances shot her way, voices mumbling that she's not right, going off gallivanting like that! Oh gallivant she did indeed, and she loved every second of it.
She was greeted to a clamor of voices all yelling simultaneously at her, asking question over question. Their mother, Marigold, hushed all of them and took Bryony's hand, leading her to the washroom. She helped Bryony clean off all the mud and gunk that had gotten into her hair, and meticulously started cleaning every single scratch she found. Bryony let her mother work, her touch like magic, as if she was siphoning all the pain away just by carefully cleaning and tending to the wounds. She uncovered the giant gash on her head, tsk-ing at her before cleaning it properly and applying a nice cooling salve. She gently wound another bandage around her head before giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"I'm sorry ma," Bryony murmured. Marigold looked at her with a quizzical look. Bryony was about to explain herself before Marigold waved her hand at her.
"You only need to apologise to your da for losing his favourite walking stick. Although, between you and me." Marigold's voice dropped as her face shined with a mischievous smile. "Your father never used it a day in his life." Bryony stifled a laugh as her mother put a finger to her mouth, shushing her as she also chuckled alongside her.
"We Streamfoots are always up to no good. Me and your Auntie Caramip used to get up to all sorts. We tried learning how to swim, camped outside the woods for many an evening. I think your auntie even managed to ride a pony all the way to Needlehole and back once." Bryony watched as Marigold's eyes shone in remembrance, her smile tender and warm. She smiled with her mother, memories of her auntie Caramip flooding her mind, her signature wink as she'd hide a bracelet or brooch into their pockets.
"Go explore the world, my dear. It's why it's there! All I ask is that you never forget us," her mother finished, caressing her cheek. Bryony rested her head against her mother's soft touch, covering her mother's hand with her own.
"Always ma. I'll always come back home," she murmured. Marigold hummed and kissed her on the cheek.
"Good lass. There's a nice steaming pie in the oven waiting for you. It's your favourite," Marigold said, winking at her. Bryony's face lit up, rushing out of the washroom towards the kitchen. She was quickly ambushed by her siblings, and as she cut into the cherry pie, she started telling them of her adventure.
She hoped this wouldn't be her last. Nay, she would make sure it wasn't her last.
