[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen sighed easily at a job well done. An Elf works fast but two Elves the faster, Lira stood dusting herself off, the wine labeling accomplished she put out the oil lamps.

They headed towards the stairs; Lira laughed every so often at an old memory that Esgallhugwen knew nothing about. Peering around the wooden post, laying their eyes among many a new guest some looked to have met up with others as seemed to be the way things went in such a place as this; strangers meet and the next they are having personal conversations with one another telling stories and things they would not normally tell.

Lira took a seat by the hearth with Esgallhugwen close, but making it clear she did not want to go closer to the fire than she had to, only close enough to feel a slight warm. For once she was content; not cold, not hungry, not tortured by fire and steel, not running, not tired, not forsaken and not some horrible war mongering beast that her Father had tried to make her into.

She gazed deeply into the warm glow of the flames; feeling afraid and yet not so a Hobbit fire could do no harm, it was not made with the intention of harm and torture, yet still capable if only given the chance ...as all things were.

The night deepened as the two Elves sat across from one another. One fair to look upon though an uncertain dread shuddered in whoever did so and one decievingly unfair though her voice told of otherwise.

Esgallhugwen left the table then, sending a thought (as the Elves do) to Lira telling she would be outside taking in the beauty of the night.

The moon was deep in silver light outshinning the lesser stars around it's halo and giving her hair flecks of silver flame as the Elves she once knew described it. She took note that she still hadn't retrieved her cloak, gauntlets and sword from Morsereg's stall and that her bow and quiver and healing gear were safe in her room.

Esgallhugwen stepped within and walked lightly to the last stall where her dark stallion stood and neighed rather loudly. His proud greetings startled the group who were at the far entrance conversing about something in dire need of being done.

Esgallhugwen unlatched the hook being slightly embarrased, sounds were crisper in the stillness of the night. She hated attention being drawn to her, but this was the Shire not the wild and perhaps it could not be helped.

She spoke softly to Morsereg putting aside for awhile the reason she came in the first place.