Home away from home

Dunland. The place where mother left me, under the tutelage of a stranger, for two years. Land where I, like every member of my family, have become a woman grown, away from the protective grasp of my parents. They all have gone through it, those born to the wandering woodsmen sired by my great-grandfather and those before him, and my time came here. In here, I came of age, in here I hunted my first wilderbeast alone, in here I learned to live off the land's bounty and to prevent waste. In here, I brought a new tradition to my family - bonecrafting, taught to me by the men of Dunland, most of all my mentor of those years, one I named Oakenhaft.
The land where I have laid with a man for the first time, where I felt a first tingle of kinship with those from outside of my family, where I felt my first heartbreak, as despite the mind knowing better, the heart sung a song to the land I couldn't stay in. I am no dunlending, nor do I wish to become one.

And yet, I am here once more. Yet, every summer, I journey towards this land, stopping short, my mind telling me I shan't travel into it nor settle. Yet, my heart yearns. Was this what my great-grandfather felt, when he left his unknown homeland and journeyed northwest? Will I begin a new branch of my family in here? Do I wish to?

I had thought I found what I sought for when I met the ranger. He was a man broken, a man cursed, the runes from the wise-woman warned me of him, but I knew, at the depth of my spirit, he was what I wanted and I was what he needed. Or so I thought. For that ended in naught more but a heart torn, when he disappeared once more, however this time, with no trace left. He was not to the west, within the great lake-land, he was not in Bree or the forests without, I hadn't found him to the southeast, in the shaws where trolls dwell. I had heard his people gather there, but I found none. For they do not wish to be found.

Either he had fallen or had decided to evade me. Both cases made me sorrowful and in my sorrow and denial, I wasted half the cycle of the seasons. Too late have I begun my journey and to apply balm to my heart, I had chosen my old home. Dunland, with it's wilds and it's people, ravaged by the war and strife. I am but a stranger, a duvodiad, to them, even though I know some of their ways, even were I to learn all of them, a duvodiad will I remain. But that is the legacy of my family. We are strangers everywhere, but the world is ours to stride on. Wherever we may roam, is home.
It is time I have found mine. It is time I have found a man to share it with. Oakhaft will not be it, this I am certain of. But he is my only link to the land and him I shall seek out. To reminisce, exchange experiences and to show him the woman that little Woad had grown into. Perhaps exchange names properly. It has been almost twenty cycles since we last saw eachother and I am...

I believe, I am excited. Like I was then. I do not know what to make of it.