The Pony was pretty full of people when I finally got word back from Leafcutter about that last tome. It's funny how sometimes being around so many people, none of whom know me, makes me miss home even more. That's what I was thinking when I read the parchment that Leafcutter left for me. The parchment that made it official that it was finally time to head home. He'd found nothing more mentioning the lantern.
Funny, too, that I was struggling to read the parchment, as my mastery of letters is weak, while half the people around me were talking about taking language and reading lessons from the other half. If I were staying, maybe it'd make sense to take such lessons. As if I could afford them.
And that's the real question. If I leave immediately, I could cross the High Pass and return to Rohan before the weather made it impossible. But I don't have the coin for provisions, nor for the tolls of the Beornings. If I had something of value to sell, I could leave right away. If I don't find a way to fill my purse within the next few weeks, though, there will be no choice but to stay in Hookworth and leave with the spring melts.
I've been on my own a lot the last few years, and it's been hard to adjust to the solitude. But I've never been alone through winter. The thought of pacing the floors of that over-large house in Hookworth while snow piles up outside, and seeing no one for months, fills me with dread.
Not that returning home, to announce my failure and disappoint the Thane and my family, doesn't do the same. But that seems inevitable now. Better to get it over with soon as possible. Better to return to my family in shame, than not.
