Arthur

I fume even as I storm into the home of my brother; “I shall never again stay out so late!” I declare as if an impetuous teenager with little thought of consequence, and make myself scarce and hidden in my niece’s room. My niece, Jennefer, is already outside playing while her mother washes the laundry. It is early morning, and again was I out all night, and for such a dreadful reason to boot!

Last night, I got to see everyone again. In sooth, I was so excited to finally speak to Mister Arthur Hazelwood about his portrait that I might have been a bit over-enthusiastic. I had piles of papers of sketches and concepts, and I think he was overwhelmed by all the ideas I presented him with.

She wasn't often one to get lost. She thought by now, having been in Bree for a few weeks, she would know her way around the twists and turns of the city. Bree isn't like Archet. Archet was contained, fenced in, claustrophobic. She had memorized every track and path, and you could see foliage blooming between buildings and stables. 

Oh, my mother would certainly be rolling in her grave this time. I fear I may have offended everyone at the same time. Let me try to recount my day from the beginning...