[Anarya SilverBranch]

Anarya ran her finger down the edge of the newly sharpened arrowhead. It's cool steel side suddenly slipped and dug deep into her finger. Anarya squealed and threw the arrow down, cursing her stupidity, and sucking madly at her bleeding fore finger.

"There, now you've gone and made an idiot of yourself again, Anarya," She thought angrily.

The bitter salt of her blood stung her tongue harshly, but she could not help but smile at her work. The arrow was one of many that were known for their even sharpness and deadly accuracy, and only she knew how to make them. She had learned the technique from her grandfather who was a master craftsman of arrows until he lost the sight in both of his eyes when he had been hit by a falling branch from the old dead oak that had stood in front of their shop. She picked the arrow up off of the floor and put it with its twelve brothers, ready to be given the son of King Thranduil, Legolas, whose vassal was picking them up that afternoon.

Elves walked by, pushing three bound and blindfolded men before them, on the way to the gates of the cavern. Looking upon them jarred her from her thoughts. Not many came through the main gates at that time of the day. Curiosity biting at her mind, she wiped her hands of the blood upon her leggings and ran outside of her shop, looking down the road to see who was coming.

Anarya guessed they were men of the East for she had never seen one before, much less been out of Mirkwood for her young age had prohibited her from much travel. She saw in the head the elf known as Rinurion, leading the crowd. Now, her interest peeked, She walked up to the elf as he led the reluctant mortals.

He smiled dutifully as she approached, for he did not know her.
"Who are they?" She asked looking at the men as they past.
"I know not, but soon we shall find out. They were found trespassing upon our lands."
As habit, Anarya glanced back at his quiver. Inside she saw the traditional red-feathered ends of her arrows. She smiled.
"I see my arrows have become more popular," She said with a grin.
Rinurion looked puzzled for a second, "You are the maker of the red feathers?" He asked.
Anarya shrugged modestly and looked at the ground.
"I thought you were the apprentice to the arrow maker. You looked too young to be a master," He said not meaning to be rude, but it still sounded that way.
Anarya looked up with a burning glare, "Really, well tell the prince that his arrows are ready. Whenever he wishes, he may come and fetch them," She said coolly, "If you will excuse me, I must get back to my shop."
And with that she left the host and walked back to the shop. She was certainly sick of being judged because of her age, yet still she felt a curiosity toward the men and wished to know more~

[ March 24, 2002: Message edited by: Gilthalion ]