"Another faces"

Every day I see new faces. The faces of people who were able to find a way to us or find a way back home. I am glad to each of these persons: they are a sign that civilization is beginning to recover from the wounds of the "split" and caravans, like many threads, sew pieces of the once whole world into something new. But I am especially pleased with the “new” faces of my old friends: no matter how short was the trip, each person on the road experiences many great adventures and no less hardships. Every ambush of raiders or an attack of wild animals, every artifact of a past civilization or a new point of trade, all changes a person. Every step along the way makes a person different. And meeting my friends, I read on their faces all the stories that they experienced, I am glad that their "new" faces told their stories ... just as they were told by those who will never return. Keeping this sorrow and this joy, I see off the caravans as for the last time and I meet them as for the first.