[Rochelle]

Her eyes moved to where the bag lie. She raised a brow as he brought the clothes out and then offered them out to her. Slowly she held out her hand and took them from him. She looked upon them with hesitation “…you acquired these from a dead man?” Her mouth set in a grim line but then she smirked and shook her head, folding them in her arms.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She brushed by him and walked around the hill to the stream where he had recently emerged. She removed her cloak and cast it upon the ground, belt soon followed. She knelt down and peered into the coolness of the water. Her face was streaked with dirt and she reached cupped palms into the stream to splash her face. The reflection came back cleaner this time, and her eyes looked once more upon the clothes she had to change into. She frowned and looked at her current ensemble. She did not willingly trade in the threads of Mirkwood for those of a dead man, but she knew her peril if she did not. She promptly removed the tunic and slid the darker one on in it’s place. Next she stood and reapplied her belt before clasping the new cloak and hood around her neck.

She looked once more into the stream, her golden hair stood out among the new darkness. She reached back and tied the hair loosely with a string, hiding it as best she could beneath the hood. She sighed and picked up her tunic and cloak, walking back to the makeshift camp. After setting down the clothes, she walked over to where Awrygan was discussing the layout of Dol Amroth.

She listened intently to his guidance, he seemed knowledgeable of the city. She smirked as he recalled his gambling experience, then wondered at how he expected to convince the keeper if he wouldn’t cooperate. Her attention soon averted however, as soon as he mentioned the children. “I think you’re correct in your assumptions about the warehouses. They are close to the sea, the territory the corsairs are most comfortable with.”

At the mention of her horse, Rochelle nodded. “He is loyal, and desires action as I do, but he will understand that his time is to come later.” She smiled at the horse who know was enjoying a dust bath, then shook her head. “No, I have no knowledge of ships nor their commanders. I had not seen the sea until earlier this day.” She laughed lightly, “Yet I will follow your cue…”

She stood after a moment and walked over to Quellë, speaking softly in the tongue of her father. The stallion stood, then his head dropped slightly as if in a solemn gesture. The woman ran her hand along his withers, then down his shoulder before giving a gentle pat. The horse had raised his head, then tossed it up. His white mane flew back and he whickered. She smiled and looked to Awrygan. “He understands, he will stay on the outskirts and come at my call.”