There is a pair of trees where we would spend our time when not at work on our respective farms. There is an old set of armor stuffed with straw that we would hang from a limb by some rope. We would take turns pushing the armor or attacking it with dull swords. While at the farm, I made my way to the trees and found that old armor. I took it to her grave and set it up next to her grave marker as a sentry watching over her for all of eternity. As I made my way back to the farm late that night I swear I could hear her voice on the breeze. Maybe I heard what I wanted to hear. I don't know.

After mending the fences and settling a dispute between Pa and one of the neighboring farmers, I've made my way back to Dundee. There isn't much to do training-wise, so I'll probably follow what Pallas does and make sure the pathways are clear of vines.