Being the men that came and went from the Mercer household didn't know which end of a mixing spoon to hold, Lyfrid decided to hide her collection of "odds and ends" in the kitchen mixed in with the cooking implements, fresh herbs and dried spices. For the time being, that would suffice until she could find another place to set up shop, as it were.
One evening, when it was warm and the skies were clear and dinner had been served, the seer left the manor and made her way toward Bree proper. An enigma, Lyfrid, preferred to be alone but found that watching the goings and coming near the Pony was always entertaining. Besides, she liked adorning herself in the jewelry she had collected and the gowns she had made for herself.
Unfortunately the 'entertainment' at the Inn was slow, boring, ordinary. Nothing scandalous or exciting, only the usual drunks and strumpets which didn't provide any enjoyment for the woman. Lyfrid left the Inn and sauntered toward her horse near one of the hitching posts on the side of the building.
He was standing there near the water trough, next to her horse. The thought passed her mind that she should see about stealing a different horse, that one was not so recognizable, but she loved his spotted hind quarters and his gaits were as smooth as a rocking chair. Lyfrid knew why he was there, she could see the pendant wrapped around his wrist. Half of her hoped he would realize she was the one that sent it, the other half hoped he'd never figure it was her.
When she decided to craft the pendant for Brulk she had reasoned its abilities would serve both of them very well. It wasn't completely selfish motivations that compelled her to create the thing, in fact she had to swallow the bitter pill of her acute pride to get it to him. She needed the help of one of the villagers in Trestlebridge to write the note for her that was sent along with the emerald trinket as she was unable to read or write and deeply hated admitting that fact to anyone. She had developed ruses avoid that fact from being discovered. Survival circumstances had given birth to her extreme sense of pride. Pride, on the other hand, can become the great creator of poisoning in ones own life and Lyfrid was toxic because of it.
He stood there with that snarling, sour face but she kept her composure and continued moving toward her horse, the Man and likely his questions. She wasn't wrong.
