Bramlun

Bíld son of Bóurr to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor, fond greeting and, I fear, barely anything else, as I write in such a hurry on what is practically the eve of our departure from Bree-land!

His youngest child to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor, fond and loving greeting, even if this time spectacularly tardy.

If I write that this month not much has to me happened here, it would be true enough. The state of my affairs is the same — I am hale and well, studying and practicing and drinking and making new acquaintances every day as I wait for the time of our caravan’s departure.

It is true also that my life shall from this point be never the same.