I made my way into town. It was an uneventful trip and I got most of the work done that I needed to do. I've spoken with the tailor and gotten new clothes for Ruevir, but it appears that she'll need better gloves and a mask. A deposit has been left with the tailor for miss Sol's new clothes.
I inquired about woolen socks, but it appears that she had none to offer. The chill of approaching winter is already in the air. I'll have to start stocking up the infirmary with both food and other supplies. I'll need to start making plans to forage what I'm able before the first coldspell.
I've asked miss Sol to travel to the Shire and visit the faire I'm told is nearing its end. She will not be back for a few days at least.
* Prepare a pouch of coin
The Undertaker has given me a body to examine and use as study material for Ruevir. An older male, withered and covered in sores, his neck swelled up and on first glance, I find it likely that it caused him to suffocate slowly.
No one has claimed the body, nor come forth admitting to knowing this man. He won't be missed. The Undertaker gave me two days and then the body must be prepared and returned to be buried. It's not much time, but enough to see if she has the stomach to work as a barber, or if it's all an act she has put up.
It's comforting to be able to speak with her about these things, to see interest rather than frowns. Peculiar and disturbing is how I've often heard people describe me when they believe I cannot hear them. People advise me from speaking of such things and so I must be careful. Yet, she's a difficult woman to speak with. My patience has its limits and she has to learn that acting like a child will not be tolerated when it comes to my work.
I tire of such behaviour in women.
I find myself missing the conversations me and father would have. The different ideas, treatments, the cause and effect of certain things and other topics regarding such. Now I teach, learning little from others as I've yet to find another who shares my work or interest.
