Winter is a peaceful time. The washed-out skies, colorless landscape, and eager sunsets bring a sense of rest and quiet. Of endings, conclusions, and closure.
I am yet keeping my stores as best I can. Many things are difficult to find in the ungrowing season. I do not think of replenishing in the spring, as I do not know if I will see it arrive. But it is good to have something to do, so that I do not feel entirely without use.
A visit to the market in Bree allowed me to discover a very pleasant young woman selling dried herbs for cooking. I have obtained mint and sage, and am encouraged to return again for future purchases. I rested briefly outside the inn and had another girl approach me for what seemed a friendly conversation. She was swathed all in red and struck me as a chatty, affable sort. I felt a smidge of regret that I could not provide her with the more vivacious and gregarious company she no doubt sought.
My wish to escape recognition has not been entirely successful. Upon departing the marketplace, I was halted by a man who inquired after me in a manner that belied his knowledge of my former life. I began to lie in order to throw off his guess, but he hurriedly assured me that he meant no harm nor sought anything untoward of me. He asked if I might be willing to visit his farm to observe a young woman in need of a physician. When I asked why he did not seek a reputable healer, he only said that I would understand when I saw the patient. My explanation that I am not a doctor did not sway him, and he seemed quite desperate in his request.
So I will go.
