The Witch of the Woods.
I had not heard this term before. Rumours abound within Bree, I was told, of a woman who lives alone within the woodlands. Which wood in particular was not mentioned, nor a description or the reason that she is believed a witch. I found it interesting, then, when I was asked if I was such a person.
Am I?
I certainly abide within this forest, making my home upon the edge of this small lake. I enact rituals and indulge in practises that would no doubt be frowned upon by the inhabitants of these lands and, with the exception of my faithful companion Arugru and the young crow entrusted to me by Rellas, I am alone.
Have my activities been witnessed? I sincerely doubt it for I am careful not to allow people to know of my habits or origins. Surely if either of these things were known I would already have a noose about my neck and be swinging gently from the branch of the tree alike an over-ripe fruit.
I cannot deny that visitors here are becoming more frequent. In the past few days alone I have had my solitude disturbed by a gondorian scholar, a courting couple who made themselves comfortable upon my rock whilst I was checking my snares for rabbits, and Tylan of the Hawthorns. How strange that my once silent sanctum would now be so busy and yet the one I desire to see remains absent.
Perhaps it is not to me that these whispers refer. Perhaps there is another who stalks my woods, but if so then I have seen no sign of her. Perhaps, then, she stalks a different woodland. Far Chetwood is far from being the only large stand of trees within the borders of Bree-land.
Am I, then, the Witch of the Woods?
Does it matter? It is an amusing thought, but ultimately inconsequential.
