[Elora]

Vanwe studied Falco's companion through her lashes, hesitant to openly stare. It was true, she mused silently, that she had seen worse. Compared to the denizen's of Umbar's seedier district, he looked to be a lord by appearances. Besides which, who knew when an appearance was a true indication of the person who lay beneath? She had fallen afoul of appearances before and did not trust them in the least.

"The road can be hard, pressing even the most noble," particularly when pursued, Vanwe silently added with the voice of experience. "He does not smell so terribly bad, though Master Falco. Nothing that some water and soap could not rememdy."

Vanwe glanced at Beren and Falco in turn, attempting the guage the mood between the two. Men were difficult to fathom, she had found in her travels. To prove her words, Vanwe took a deep breath and held it. The smell was palpable. She concealed it neatly with her glass and took a healthy mouthful of the wine. The warm buzz in her head continued, muzzing her usual reserve and banishing it to the four winds. She smiled at the table as she set her glass down and did her best to ignore the smell she had taken willingly into her lungs.

After spending considerable time in the company of goats and horses, it was a feat within her capacity. Glass set down to allow her head to clear a little, Vanwe idly traced patterns upon the tabletop, her finger stroking the wood, as conversation about Falco's companion and satchel continued. It was no small matter, that much evident in how Derufin leaned forward to pay closer attention.

On a whim, Vanwe extended her senses as best she could. Appearances may be deceiving, but the wrongness that emmanates from malice and evil and hurt could not be contrived. Her fingers traced a graceful pattern as she struggled to learn what lay beneath appearances. It was a task made difficult by the wine.