Leafy Post

Nathanius would often procure a leafy post to steady himself when he walked. Being something of a giant, his limbs and balance often betrayed him.

He did not have the dexterity of Jon Jon, who carried a little knife that his Pa had forged when he was quite young. It was his only inheritance, of which he was duly fond.

Nathan still had the matter of the packet lost to the merchant (now deceased) - and the knowledge that the Parish back home was awaiting him. He had, for a time, forgone this troubling recollection, but it had returned to him along with the collective telepathic angst from his home village beating down upon his person with a tempestuous persistence, getting stronger by the day.

His conscience beckoned him to make all right again, and restore to his community either the trust of money, or the provisions that they were waiting for.

“Jon” he said awkwardly. Jon sensed the seriousness that weighed upon his speech.

“Jon, I am at a loss, in truth and in soul. What am I to do about the Merchant’s ruin and the monies now gone?” he sighed a deep and vacuous sigh.

“Well it seems to me,” Jon answered seriously (privately pleased to be confided in) “I believe dear friend that you have two choices before you: one is to return home empty yet with explanation, and offer to work til day’s end to make good for some of their loss - or, you could never go back, and they will then believe the worst: namely, that you have absconded with their trust, and have taken it for yourself.”

The latter was an abhorrent thought to Tindle, who genuinely loved the people of the village of the cliffs.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series