For the second time in as many days, Gilly had spent the night in Benia's room at the inn. This time, Benia awoke early. When she peeked in on Gilly, she found the hobbit still sleeping. The night before had been a wild ride of ups and downs for Benia between the success of her song and the near loss of the mysterious red stone when Gilly had accidentally flipped it out of her pocket and on to the floor. Then, there was the touchy moment when Aleia, the hobbit from Tookland, had asked Benia where she was off to next. Benia had managed to sidestep the question then, but now found it staring her in the face. Time was getting short. It was all too easy to lose track of time around the Shire, laughing and drinking and exchanging stories, but there was a whole other world beyond the borders of the Shire. She was needed out there.
Regretfully, Benia opened her pack, taking out her traveling cloak and laying it across a chair. Soon, her hood and a pair of soft leather gauntlets joined it. She carefully folded and repacked her scant other belongings, being careful to leave enough room for a goodly supply of food. She reached into her skirt pocket and took out the little pouch that held her finger cymbals. Weighing it in her hand, she hesitated. Then she reached in and removed from it Gilly's clean handkerchief and the stone. She shook the stone out into her palm and gave it a long look. Maybe it was good fortune that she had come by the stone. It could prove beneficial to have one where she intended to go. Frowning, she tucked it carefully into a hidden pocket in the lining of her bodice. She tossed the pouch with her finger cymbals into her pack. The time for songs was over.
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