Birdie almost dropped the cup she was holding. This was Gandalf the Grey?!
She thought about all the tales she had heard of the mighty wizard. How he had defeated the dragon of the Lonely Mountain single-handedly, commanded armies of Eagles, produced rivers of gold, and lakes of fire. That he sat on the councils of the greatest of the Elven Lords, and advised the Kings of Men.
Everyone had heard of Gandalf the Grey, though few could actually describe him. Certainly they would not describe him as sitting at a campfire, looking weary and dirty, relishing a bowl of badger stew.
Birdie decided to play along. At best, this really was Mithandir, the Grey Wanderer. (Perhaps in disquise. Heroes in tales often traveled in disquise.) At worst, he was some ancient warrior of the minor nobility, addled by sorrow and battle, who had assumed a grand delusion. He seemed to be a kindly soul, and the stew did look good.
"Well met, Oh Grey Wanderer. All of Middle Earth know of the mighty Gandalf the Grey. It is an undeserved honor to be invited to share the road with you, for however long you will accept me."
But what of the others? She watched as the young girl, with a look of concentration as if she had forgotten something important, tried to befriend the black war steed. Birdie would as soon jump on the back of a pooka as touch the beast. But at the moment, it seemed to play the role of a normal, if somewhat flighty horse, as weary of the road as its masters.
Next she glanced at the girl standing beside the strange grey beast. Did wizards have familiars? And if so, did familiars have grooms to attend the them? Birdie decided to wait for an explanation of this particular mystery. Whatever the beast was, it seemed to be well-behaved.
Birdie last looked at the woman of no particular age who seemed to have charge of the camp and it's members. Tending to hurts and the fire, dishing up another bowl of stew and refilling the pan for more tea. The puzzled skin-changer was relieved at last to be able to place at least one member of the party in her proper role. She smiled up at the woman as she handed her the bowl, and addressed Gandalf:
"You are fortunate to have such a caring helpmeet on the road, Gandalf. May I ask the name of your leman?"
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