How it was the Erme had traveled to what felt like the ends of the earth, yet had never stepped foot in what her father had lovingly referred to as "the home land", seemed like an oversight. She had heard so many stories from her father growing up about the Danish coast, and how beautiful it was. Having traveled to the coast of a number of countries since her father told his last story, Ermentrude had found this particular coast to be underwhelming. Maybe it was more beautiful at sunrise - like her father described. She would never know. She'd had that privilege taken from her years ago.
She'd left the coast days ago, searching out the hamlet her father hailed from. After nearly a week of searching for hide or hair of it she couldn't seem to find it. Though that could be because her memories of his descriptions were muddied by the passage of time, it was also possible the village no longer existed at all. Over a century had passed since her father set eyes on the town of his birth, after all. The entire landscape of a country could completely change in less - Erme had witnessed it with her own eyes.
Sighing, Ermentrude stepped out from the shadow of the hut she'd taken shelter earlier that day, before the sun had risen and warmed the layer of snow coating the forest floor in a patchwork of white. Making her way towards the path that led from the coastal town deeper into the heart of Denmark, Erme looked out over her father's homeland. She could see a glimmer of what it was about this place that inspired the loving tone in his voice as he spun his tales.
Once back on the path, Ermentrude cursed her sentimentality. She'd give her travels another week before she gave up, she promised herself.
a/k/a Irma Oswald a/k/a Erméline d'Auber