There are many ways to view life and how it should be lived. I have talked long with my host into the night. They never show signs of fatigue or of irritation or wishing to rest. All the while I have something to say, or a need to speak, they generously listen. I see, perhaps, what I long to be as a cleric. Such patience and welcoming they show. None have come while I have not been feigning sleep, but I read the signs of folk passing through. And I know each has been met with the same open arms, the same kindness. The difference is they have the courage to then go on and I cannot leave. I have told no-one where I am. I feel I have let them down so badly. All of them! My dear brothers and sisters, Knight Sreip, Dayspring…. I am not there for any who need me. I can answer no call. Now that I have come to rest here in safety I cannot leave again. I am too frightened to. I confess that under my hosts gentle hands the sickness is passing. I would not say I feel well, but I am certainly not incapacitated by anything more than my failed courage. That cannot be an excuse for such cowardice. And what of my Dearest friend. What would they think of me? I cannot bear to even think of it. Never have they shown anything but a pure heart and strong courage and body. Once they were badly injured, though they do not know I know it. And what did they do? Stood up to the healer, gathered all their strength and went straight back to continue their fight. They did not go heart quailing to shut themselves in the guild hall. They did not go and find a lonely place to wallow in their misery. Yet even knowing this I cannot leave. This is no way to view life or a way to live it. That is the hardest thing of all. I will venture through the door at least today to gather wood. I am acutely aware I will soon become a burden to my host if I do not do more than sweep and cook. Please, dear gods, keep everyone safe.