Birdie reached the windowsill in leaps and bounds - literally. She sat and looked out at the night, scanning it with her antennae. The woods were full of Rangers! She could sense the men scattered in the trees and hedgerows surrounding the inn. What would bring about such a gathering in this backwater place so far from the Northlands?
And there was Acron. It was to be expected; few Elves appreciated the comforts of a Man's inn, preferring to wander the night in waking sleep and Elven dreams. She saw the Elf-Lord approach and join in conversation with the Ranger who had escorted Holly and Olo back to the tavern. Well, of course he would know one of these wandering men.
(Birdie had known a Ranger once long ago. Or at least he had SAID he was a Ranger. She still couldn't believe she had fallen for that one.)
She tried to hear what conversation the two were having, but they were speaking Sindarian, which Birdie did not know. She let out a small "neek-breek" of frustration. Most likely they were discussing weighty matters that, hopefully, would not involve her or her fellow travelers too much.
The Elf and Ranger parted, the mysterious Wood Man walking back towards the tavern. He paused by the doorway, and fumbled with a pipe and tinderbox. Bird wondered if she would ever have the chance to steal off into the woods and morph into Ent form. She was getting sleepy!
At that moment, a hairy, burly wagon driver stood and stretched at the table behind her. He reached to close the window, and saw Bird sitting on the sill. "Bah!" he snorted in disgust. "Neeker-Breeker." The ham-size hand came whooshing down.
Bird instinctively jumped. And landed right on the sachel that the Ranger carried at his side. She froze, fearing that the wanderer might have heard the small sound of her body snicking against leather. Then she smelled the parchment. All bugs love parchment and to a Birdie in bug form, it smelled as wonderful as Bethberry's pies. "A small snack wouldn't be amiss before bedtime." she reasoned, and burrowed down into the satchel, where she found a small, tightly rolled scrap of parchment. Birdie commenced to munching.
[ July 23, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
|