Black and black

I woke up early - even exhausted, I cannot sleep long. My mind and body were trained to wake up early and so they do, regardless of everything. This is good.

I went to trade and barter. The bolts of Dunlending cloth were useful for the locals, few of them care about delicate, fancy fabrics and more - about it surviving the winter. That works well together. I think Dunlending and Bree-landers would like each other - were they not so stubbornly distrustful towards everything that isn't them.
The similarities amuse me.

I've traded the cloth, furs and tools I obtained for more useful things - smiths gave me a few bucketfuls of tar, the cooks shared salt and some venison (I had little time to hunt, they were surprised I asked). I am planning to find the fisherman Thistlewool, ask if he has fish and needs anything new. The woodswitch will provide me with herbs and spices.
I need more, though. Medicine, perhaps. It never hurts to bolster natural remedies with tonics from learned men.
I'll see what else do I need after these items are obtained. Straw is easy enough collected, so I can stuff the holes in my walls with it easily.
Curiously, the smith I received the tar from was bitter, his mood as black as the pitch he sold me. He didn't seem to feel like sharing reasons for it, so I did not pry. I do wonder, however. Winter brings sadness out of people, it seems. The nights get longer and their worries amplify - Man needs sun to thrive and their mood to rise. I am not exception from that - even though I am used to the dark, as I spend most of the winter in my hut, reading and planning. But even I long for summer. This may be why we seek company of another, to find comfort in their presence during these dark days.

Indeed, even I felt more at ease last winter, when I cared for a friend that needed it. Perhaps I should try to be more social this winter, as he is no longer here. It is worth a try, at least.