Found:
The door!
I remember my life on the road. It was often cold, wet and windy. My only shelter was my tent which, when the wind was high, didn't offer much in the way of protection from the draughts. They would creep in through the meager ties and underneath the canvas like sneak thieves looking to steal my warmth. Sometimes the rain would saturate the ground enough that my bedroll would be sodden when I awoke. Sometimes hungry or aggressive creatures would try to catch me unawares in the middle of the night. Sometimes it could be weeks, or months, before I would see another living person...
But I loved it. The freedom of it all. The unfettered and untethered nature of living how I pleased, where I pleased and moving on when I pleased.
True, I sometimes grew lonely or ran short on supplies and found my way to a town or village to secure my needs, but before long I would be gone again. The wind in my hair, the thud of hooves below, the sky above and the horizon before me all calling me onward to the next adventure.
It's not like that here. Not one bit.
The walls are static and solid. The roof sways for no strong wind. The door remains shut for the snow and nothing calls me hither or thither. It is safe, it is sound, it is stifling.
Despite the many distractions it offers - the scrolls to keep my mind occupied, the various repairs and odd jobs to keep my hands occupied, the cleaning and cooking to dull my wits - I find myself feeling ever more mired. Ever more caught and caged, my captor only ever visible when I look into a mirror or down at the ebony cane I was forced to adopt through the colder months.
I need to get out of here.
The snow thaws. The hill is steep still, but I'm steadier upon my feet than I have been for a while. Easy to get down one way or the other; less easy to get back up again.
I need to get out of here.
I want the company of something other than a dusty scroll or the little girl who brings me groceries for a few copper.
I need to get out of here.
Overexerting myself too soon may well make this aggravated injury worse.
I need to get out of here.
It is a risk I am willing to take.
