Found:
I set up camp on the northern edge of Starmere Lake this morning. It seemed a good place for basking in the sun and, indeed, proved to be.
Yesterday was quiet, so I had a lot of time with which to pick the perfect spot. Indeed, aside from a brief encounter with an old acquaintance, I saw no one and did nothing of note.
Loakee, it seems, has returned from... well, Dale he said. He told me an interesting tale of betrayal and loss. I'm not sure quite how much I believe, but at least some of it I assume to be true. That his brother is not with him is a mystery to both of us and, sadly, my half-formed belief that Loakee himself had long since eloped with Owena was quite incorrect. He knows naught more than I concerning her whereabouts.
A pity. I miss her little cakes.
We have since entered into a friendly wager concerning who will go to see who first; me or him. His lute to me, should I win. Three gold to him should I lose. 'tis more than he has ever held in his hand, I suspect, but of little concern to me. I have far more than I ever need. I'm almost tempted to lose on that point alone, but that would rather take the fun out of such a contest!
Today, though I had planned only to enjoy the sunshine on the bank of that lake, I ended up taking a walk instead. Ryheric came to me in something of a sour mood by his standards and I sought to lift his spirits a little with the best view in Bree-Land.
Sunrise from Ost Barandor. A sight that never fails to inspire a sense of awe and peace.
I'm not entirely certain if it was that which finally got him talking, or his satisfaction with some of the answers he had asked for. Truth be told, my explanations were messy and illogical, but no less true for it. I hate doing that; speaking without the veneer. It's.... difficult.
Half-truths and intimations are easy to do. Whole truths are rather more arduous. Things don't come out right or I can't seem to make them make sense to others, despite them making sense to me. I hear the words as they come out, and I know that they're not quite the right ones, that I will be misunderstood despite trying to give clarity. It is deeply frustrating.
Regardless, we spoke of what was on his mind, and swapped tales of yesteryear. He admitted that he had become aware of my nightmares when I had lay beside him in Chetwood a few nights past. I was really rather hoping the man had slept through that. They nestle quite high up on the List Of Things I'd Rather Keep To Myself. However, he went on to disclose that he, too, had suffered such restless nights in times past and that he had a solution which he hoped would work for me. We shall share my tent tonight and test this theory.
That is, if he dares return from his swim.
