Bregand finished unpacking his horse for the night and stood for a moment brushing its flanks. He had been thrilled by the appearance of another elf and shocked by the apparent resolve to join the journey.
From the corner of his eye he saw that the noblewoman was erecting a tent. It was a brightly colored one, more suited for a party than a serious journey. He made a note to mention possibly finding a way to camoflauge the fabric. For tonight they were safe, but the road ahead seemed newly uncertain to his young eyes. He wanted to discuss this with the elves, but they were alternatiovely singing and talking softly to each other.
Bregand made his way over to the fire where the blacksmith, the nurse, and the woman named Rave were mixing up some kind of stew. These were the types of people he always felt inferior around.
He searched his mind for something to say, and finally managed a, "It's a good night for starting a journey. This day used to be a feast day in Arnor before the days of darkness, a time for celebrating friendships."
Bregand felt the eyes of the people on him and blushed a bit. He felt awkward for having spoken about friendship when he was a stranger to the entire company. To his surprise the blacksmith smiled broadly at him and laughed.
"Yes," he chuckled, "I think this is a fine day to celebrate friendships, even if they haven't been formed yet."
Bregand smiled back, flushed at his social success.
"Well," he said, "it looks like we will have a sort of feast at any rate. The stew smells quite good. I think I will see if the lady from Gondor needs a hand with her tent. Maybe I can convince her to rub some ash on it or something."
"Good luck."
Bregand turned to see which of the women had spoken, but he couldn't tell. Unsure whether the mocking tone was meant for him or for Wren, he backed away from the fire and tripped over his own bag.
[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: The X Phial ]
__________________
But then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.
|