Bree-land

How long had she wandered?

The fog never ceased, and the night was never ending. Carefully placing her walking stick before of her every step, she meandered the endless, rolling hills and barrow mounds. Only the occasional stone peer broke the scenery of fog, grass, and rolling mounds. She was hastily losing track of the time as she walked on and on.

She was going home.

Gerry came to see me the day he died. I was surprised to see him standing right there, on the porch, as if waiting to be summoned inside. He used to visit me often. Then he met that girl from Combe. I won’t deny it hurt a little.

‘Well, what happened? No trip to Combe tonight?’

Last night, I got to see everyone again. In sooth, I was so excited to finally speak to Mister Arthur Hazelwood about his portrait that I might have been a bit over-enthusiastic. I had piles of papers of sketches and concepts, and I think he was overwhelmed by all the ideas I presented him with.

She wasn't often one to get lost. She thought by now, having been in Bree for a few weeks, she would know her way around the twists and turns of the city. Bree isn't like Archet. Archet was contained, fenced in, claustrophobic. She had memorized every track and path, and you could see foliage blooming between buildings and stables.