[Elora]

"Bandits," Falco announced with some authority as he joined the group. He expanded after he took his seat, "Ruffians, cutpurses..."

"Odd fare for a band of outlaws to prey upon, Rangers," Thoronmir mused aloud. Several nodded at the table. Falco brushed it aside.

"Who else will they find out in the Wilds? You won't find sensible Hobbits out there, I can tell you that." Falco seemed oblivious to the fact that shortly there will be three out there, himself included.

"I've seen it before," he confided in them all, "Ruffians maurauding about. They'll roll whomever they come across and if a Ranger or Messenger is brave enough to venture out there... What else can you really expect? It's Big..." Falco managed to pause just in time to avert what even he would say is an awkward situation, "It's trouble of that sort," he amended.

"Are you going to eat that," he asked of Anson who had the good fortune to be the closest to a plate of bread and cheese. Anson blinked at Falco, which is all the time he had before the Shirrif commandeered the plate.

He piled on a hunk of golden cheese and took a healthy bite. Washing it down with a pull of ale from his tankard, Falco smiled and immediately filled his mouth. As he chewed and ate like a hobbit who had missed a day's meals, he endeavoured to listen as best he could to the talk unfolding at the table. He knew that this Thoronmir was one of those Great Warriors, and that was invaluable.

Fond of settling matters with an oversized steak knife, somewhat highly strung, Falco concluded as he swallowed his second mouthful. Having demolished the bread so swiftly, he loaded on another piece of cheese to the next and turned his attention to those at the table. Lumiel was smiling at the dancers. Probably wishes she was out dancing in the trees too, Falco thought as he took another long swig at his tankard.

Leaning back to do so, Falco noticed Uien re-enter the inn. She paused, studying the dancers and the room for their table. She met his gaze for an instant and Falco stilled. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Uien turned away, first turning to the bar to speak with Butterbur and then skirting the dancers to find the stairs. Something's on her mind, that much is obvious. Falco turned his attention back to the table.

Uien slowly ascended them, turning over her thoughts with each step. Down the hall, past the rows of doors on each side she walked until she came to a standstill before one. It was not her own. She raised her hand to knock and hesitated. What will he think of me if I knock on his door like this? But should he not know of what I have learnt? Yes, he should, for it shows that hope can endure beyond memories of darkness past. Her decision made anew, Uien tapped lightly on the door that Barliman Butterbur had said was Falowik's. She stepped back and looked up the hall to her own door nervously. No, he has to learn this before he sets out. Hope will be scant in the abandoned Wilds. What we have he will need to carry with him for it may be by that alone he suceeds.

Uien stepped back to the door. "Laurëatan, tis I. I need to speak with you, if you will." And what if he says he will not, or says nothing at all? What then, Uien?
As Uien listened for indication of a reply, she answered herself. Then I will find another way. There is always a way. Have I not learnt that time and again? Always.

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]