Seasons changed, and Liffey with it. Her feet took her all over Middle-earth, over lands she had never seen before. She had left, choosing her own adventure, deciding to see where it would take her. Liffey felt like she had already lived a thousand lives, and by the time she returned home to Bree, she felt like she had lived a thousand more. She wondered at the long lives of elves and how ancient they must feel, if her little life made her feel old already. But her days in Bree grew heavy, as they often did when she lingered in one place for very long.

Bryony groaned. She managed to sit herself up, wincing in pain. Her head was throbbing, her body felt like it had gotten into a fight with a rabid shrew, and she felt more lost than ever. 

Footsteps crushed leaves and rushed towards her. She reached for her walking stick, but to her dismay found that she must have dropped it in her panic. How was she meant to defend herself now? 

A woman ran through the trees towards her, who upon seeing her, stopped to catch her breath. 

It took a couple more days, and a couple of extra steps, but Bryony was finally outside the entrance to the Old Forest. The deep voice was much clearer now, beckoning her and asking for aid. 

Bryony took a deep breath, clutching her walking stick tightly. Marcus insisted that she should use it, since their da had long since stopped going out for his usual walks. 'He's not going to miss it,' Marcus had told her. 'And he'd want you to have it.'

Bryony took a single step closer to Buckland, much to the screaming delight of her siblings. She looked behind her, finding them on the Brandywine Bridge, waving their hands. Her older brother Marcus was letting out shrill whistles. Laughing, she waved back before looking in front of her.