Frustrated sighing can be heard occasionally over the sound of a quill scritching on parchment
Honestly, the bullheadedness of some people! Having firmly established myself as a seamstress here in Bree now, having regular clients, I finally found time to speak to the Guards of Bree about what happened at the farm. Did I expect a sympathetic ear? Did I expect them to immediately send out men to root out the brigands? No, I did not. But I did at least expect a decent hearing. Instead I get a cold shoulder, brushed off in the most impolite manner and escorted out of the building and told I was causing a fuss! I was furious. How can they treat people this way? Do the people of Bree mean nothing to the Guard? Are they all corrupt? But I will not be deterred. I will go back every day until they decide to do something. Which they must! Or I will take matters into my own hands.
The troubles in Breetown itself seem to have died down a little. No more mention of Iron Crowns and even the hooded men seem to have gone into hiding. It makes for a pleasanter atmosphere I must say. I have finished several more cloaks and dresses ready for sale, Seaver's cloak among them. The cloak I have wrapped in brown paper and given to Cymaru to keep. She has put it behind the bar will see to it that he gets it. Mending is the greater part of my income for now however. It feels so good to have a solid income again. No longer reliant on the charity of others, though Thryll has never complained, far from it, rather urged us to make free use of her purse. She is so goodhearted, but it feels wrong to take such advantage of her. She is still young, not to mention in love. I remember how that was, the world bathes in a rosy glow, and you feel nothing can go wrong. Last time I saw her she was a little worried, told us Bearn had gone to search for some girl who had gone missing. I wish him more luck in his endeavour than I have had in mine with the Bree Guard! Though she was very pleased with the dress I had made for her. I hope it distracted her a little from her worries.
The quill is laid next to the book, the inkbottle stoppered and the candle blown out
