Beren, a smile pasted upon his face, watched the proceedings of the group around him. The small, bobbing hobbit before him was a constant source of amusement, and the woman to his right so nervous she was nearly twitching.
"Well, I suppose I should introduce myself then, seeing as how you've all presented yourselves so kindly to me. My name's Beren, and you can feel free to call me by it at anytime you please. I'm from the South, though, a bit more north than you, Mrs.Vanwe, judging by your accent."
She blushed slightly at his comment, giving him enough information to know to say no more. If she chose not to introduce her homeland, that was her business. Her arms twitched slightly as he rose to shake the hand of Master Boffin, suddenly he realised her obvious concealment of the appendages, and his mind began to race.
Suddenly, he looked down as his hand extended to meet that of Boffin's, noticing it's brownish coloration. "Well then, I think I'll just sit right back down then. The hands of a gardener, as they say." He presented his hands in the air, showing them to the sitting two. He glanced backwards as he started to sit down, checking to see that the appropriate piece of furniture was still in it's proper place. Sitting down upon a nonexistant chair was never a good ordeal.
Just as he got himself settled back into the seat, Derufin came up, a bottle of spirits in hand. "Well then," said Beren, "If my opposing stench hasn't ran off your thirst, as of yet, I would say it's time to give this wine a new home."
The jest at himself proved well-put, as the three around him broke into laughter> Vanwe giggled softly to herself, started to cover her mouth, then quickly thought better of it. Beren gave a small wink in her direction, causing an thorough reddening.
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