Bird was hungry, but she couldn't tear herself away from the back of the cave. And someone probably should stay with Angara, though Bird wasn't sure if she would know if a wyrm took a "turn for the worse". She could only hope that Hobbrims were not so much like Hobbits that there would be no leftovers.
The Changling ran her fingers across the rough, warm walls of the cave, being careful not to touch the images. They were all there, in bold strokes and vibrant colors; the man figure with a fish tail. Elves dancing, and one striking figure with raised sword. A man robed and staffed, with a pony companion. She smiled to see the small coal and white bird hovering around them. And of course dragons, in gold, and silver and black.
All the figures were interwove with the Halflings, telling their take on the story of Gondolin. But there were many other stories on the wall as well, that Bird was not familiar with. For the lives of the Hobbits, and these Hobbrims, had gone on, long after the strange creatures of the First Age had left them.
Andril had said they had only the songs. But how could she forget about these? Bird hoped she could meet the one who had drawn these. If he or she were still alive.
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