Blida

[The envelope looks like it was sealed once with wax, opened, then re-sealed. It feels a little heavy. Inside, the writing of the first page is a little shaky and full of many hesitations (especially at the beginning). The ink looks like it would dry one day, then a new bottle would be opened the next, as if the process of writing was drawn out over some time. Tucked in front of the folded letters is a small strip of ribbon. It’s dark purple, embroidered with a delicate vine-like pattern of lilac and white flowers.

His youngest child to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor greeting.

Bíld son of Bóurr to Miss Rubiginosa of the Fallohides fond greeting and regards, from beneath the mysterious canopy of the Trollshaws.

[The script is the same as before. Again, each log is a new page, and again there is another torn introductory note that reads:]
 

We have been speaking plenty in person, now that you have recovered from your fever, so much of the stuff I would otherwise write in a report to you feels redundant at best. Still, I have found that there is much to say.

Day 60 Egg Milk
The Weather Hills

Bíld son of Bóurr to Maddoct son of Haddoct warm greeting and this special report.

Entry the tenth and last.

I suppose that this page ought to be a summary or conclusion and tell something of what I have learned in my two months of study at the Soothery, but composing my thoughts has been difficult. In this short time so much has transpired, a great rush of experiences and knowledge coming towards me as I have never before experienced. Even I have been changed, I suspect, though I think ultimately for the better.