Journal: Off On My Travels
It's three days now since I left home, (not of my own choosing) and set off in pursuit of that rather arguesome fellow I met in The Bird And Baby. Having enquired about him at the Inn and learnt of the market stall in Bree, which he boasted was the finest boot and shoe outlet in middle earth, I set off on the East road determined to get my money back on these ridiculous boots that he'd talked me into buying.
It wasn't long before my poor feet were sweating terribly, so as I neared Frogmorton I found a nice big boulder to sit on to try and take the wretched things off. As I sat a small family of toads slowly hopped their way towards me, curious no doubt at what I was doing. When I removed the boots, they seemed to turn up their noses and leapt quickly back into the reeds where they'd emerged from. I must say I was tempted to follow them, if i'd have thought it would have gotten me away from the pong.
But just then, I heard a rustling in the bushes over the road from where I was sitting, and rather than the whiff coming from my poor sweaty feet, it appeared to be coming from that direction. I crept over to the bushes, and peered through the leaves expecting to see I don't know what. There standing infront of me tied up to a tree was a scraggly, smelly old goat. The poor thing didn't look too happy, I reckon it must have been abandoned by its cruel, mean owner. I decided to untie the poor beast and take it with me, at least as far as Stock where hopefully someone would take it off my hands. I named the goat Ermintrude, and set off at once on my travels. It's odd, because as I crossed the brow of the hill, i'm positive that I heard some kind of commotion back where i'd found Ermitrude, but I hadn't the time to investigate, not if i'm to catch up with that boot salesman. I'm camped now across the river from Budgeford, I should make it to Stock by lunchtime tomorrow.
