The wooden door slowly creaked open, and a small hobbit entered the tavern. She was covered with a deep gray cloak as she walked inside. Her dark green eyes glanced around as she eased the hood off her dark auburn hair. A few others glanced up, but didn't take much interest in another guest at the tavern.
She spotted a cloak hanger, and carefully eased the cloak off, and hung it up, still looking around in the new environment. She looked down and brushed invisible crumbs off her emerald dress, and waited for anyone to help her.
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~*Artalwen*~
:~*~: Elven archer :~*~:
"On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun."
-verse from a song found in 'The Hobbit'-
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