[maikafanawen]

Atop the strong black horse Ani Dao had been given, she trotted up alongside the wagon beside Burzdol on his more magnificent horse. The Mirkwoodian did not have a name for her horse yet. She referred to him simply as “My Horse,” and that was it. Ani Dao didn’t get attached to animals because their lives were short.

Burzdol seemed a little tense, his eyes focused on the wagon. She followed, but noticed nothing amiss. She had no reason to distrust any of the dwarves. Shrugging it off she attempted to start conversation.

“Off at last!” She held the reins with one hand, and her other was relaxed beside her. Ani Dao breathed in the night air. When she got no reply from her companion she began to talk.

“I confess I did not come on this journey to aid Erebor,” she looked at the dwarves in the wagon, some talking merrily, others deep in thought. A few were humming or whistling, while others contentedly smoked their pipes. She smiled in spite of it all. “I was mostly interested in the reward. But now that I am newly acquainted with my favorite of the races, I care not for the treasure. Maybe I will stay in Erebor for a while.” She looked ahead and sighed deep. “Adventure is sweet, yes?” The she-elf laughed. “Ah, but you’ve already tasted some with the hobbits.” Ani Dao laughed hard, her blue eyes twinkling. Luck had always been with her, and she feared nothing. Journeys could happen before or after breakfast and she’d still have tea. Never had she stayed long in places, and always wished for something more. Many adventures had come her way, but none had brought her the justification of her thoughts. Maybe this time it would be different.

Burzdol smiled, “Little buggers.” He laughed, recalling the hustle. “Ah, that was a trip.” The two companions talked some more as the cool night settled over the shire like a veil, and the crickets chirped their evening song.

[ February 24, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]