How long have we been on the road?
Months?
Weeks?
I don't think I can keep track anymore. The days have started to blend together, only being distinguishable by the weather, the events, and how many times we stop to take a break. I can feel my pack getting lighter and lighter by the day... We're running out of food. We probably only have a few days worth left, and Bree-Land is still miles away. I'll give my food to Cy... She needs it more than I do.
Bree-Land... I don't even know if there's any work to be had there. I've only heard that it's a fertile land. Lush, green fields that sweep over the land, with small farms that dot the area. Maybe I can find some work at one of those farms... I don't know.
Still... Whatever happens will happen. As long as I can keep Cy safe, we'll be all right.
