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Willow
Willow grimaced as she heard the sound of breaking glass. She held her fiddle all the tighter all of a sudden.
Aman had dashed off, and she didn't blame her. She knew what it was like when someone got drunk, or what not.
Willow flinched, and wondered if it was that dark man, and if it was her fault. She had, after all, called Aman away from him, even though the Rohan innkeeper had seemed somewhat relieved to be called away.
She drank her water down fast, and stepped out of the shadow of the corridor, and into the common room, though the slightly shy hobbit maiden still stayed on the edge of the room.
It seemed indeed to have been the dark man, but Willow knew that it was not her business.
She slipped back out the door to the halls, and breathed out sharply. She hoped that nothing would come of this.
But she couldn't rid her mind of her dark thoughts about her past.
So she picked up her fiddle, and began to play softly in the corridor.
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