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Day 13 on the ship
Today I was gifted a dagger and a packet of paper, since I wanted to make notes of what I'm taught. My speech is now understandable, but I need to work on my writing.
They continue to ask me of my name. I thought it was on my brooch, they laughed at this. So I keep it hidden under the right glove.
They told me I must be an elf, since I learn so fast, but I don't know what that means anyway. And some of them write in weird straight composure only. I think they will soon head to a port and leave me there.

Why do I care so much? I mean about other people? I hate to talk to them, but when someone is hurt, I cannot turn a blind eye. I'm terrified to speak to most people, save a few.  Yet I still cannot handle seeing someone else hurts.  There are people like Neyaa who hate me, but it still pains me to watch her in pain.  She barely speaks to me and when she does, her words are harsh and hateful.  But it is not her words that hurt me more, not even her angry glares, but her degrading health.

Climb up a tree, you know what they say
An apple a day keeps the healer away
No better place than Appledores
Even some apples in the grass for your horse
So pick one from the branches and start munching

A gentle breeze goes through the leaves
Wonderful weather for apple thieves
In Appledores are apples for all
For hungry hobbits no tree is too tall
So pick one from the branches and start munching

An apple here, an apple there
All are sweet and juicy, come and pick your share