Brynleigh

The last few nights I have been able to sleep again some. Maybe it's just how plum wore out I have gotten, with tending the stables, restocking all its supplies, my sword training, and my journeys up to Hengstacer for lessons. That's starting to settle down though, now I'm caught up, more or less, on resupply. Tomorrow morning I get the last thing the stable's running out of, a few sacks of dried peas, plus one extra sack to make up for that they missed the date they promised for to deliver it.

There's a little bit of good news, two things actually, but I feel almost too tired to celebrate them.

The inn was as it had always been. A damp, musty place, with tables worn smooth beneath the hands of time and use, and benches that no one could afford to replace, allowing them to creak precariously under the weight of the large man. His face was well-known, for he passed along the Great East Road once or twice a year, and always stopped in for a meal and a bed. He was known for his imposing stature, his booming laugh, and his generosity with coin. 

Staying up until after dawn for the bonfire wasn't easy for me. I'm usually awake before dawn. When I woke up the day after, it was near midday and my head was far from clear. I got the fire started back up and heated up some of the Attereeve's soup, then while I were sitting down to eat it, I saw the letter what had been left on my door the night afore, what I'd clean forgot about.

It's been an hour since my last meal, and nearly a day since my meal before that. Aside from a few cakes and biscuits I managed to pack, my diet has become rather scanty. My thoughts have remained with Blackberry, and some good news and fortune regarding her dire situation has seemed to inspire hope in me, and of course replenished my natural appetite.