[Maegaladiel]

"Shire poker?" Nahai repeated slowly, the unfamiliar name rolling awkwardly off her tongue. She looked to Aman, who was shuffling a deck of green cards. Nahai had seen men playing some sort of game with similar items before, and now she struggled to remember what it was they were doing. One man was yelling about being cheated out of his money.. Ah yes, it was a betting game. Money. Nahai's cheeks flushed red.

"I am somewhat shy of funds at the moment." she explained lamely. She needed all the money she had to pay for her stay at this inn, as well as any other establishment she happened upon on her quest. And as for betting items, she had little worth giving up save her ring, and there was no way in this world or the next that she'd risk losing that.

"Perhaps I'll watch, though," she said, suddenly feeling very alone. Her gaze drifted over to a dwarf that sat whittling miniature elves, hobbits, and men. He seemed to be thourgholy absorbed in his work, perhaps recalling the tales that went with each piece. Her green eyes widened as she saw how beautiful and intricate each carving was.

"You are very talented, Master Dwarf." she commented to him. "Do you make these for profit, or amusement?" Her cheeks once again flushed red as she realized her forewardness. "Forgive me for prying, good sir. I am Nahai. Of..." Her voice faltered. "Of the Beornings." The words sounded strange. But why should they? It was the truth. She should not try to hide her heratage, and people in this place (for the most part, anyway) seemed most open-minded. Besides, this dwarf was carving elves, an act that most dwarves would think most unspeakable. Therefore, he couldn't be that steriotypical, right? Hoping her fuzzy logic was somewhat on target, she waited for his response.