Willow
Willow set down her fiddle, having played out her moods on the violin. She was okay now, though she still wondered everything, everyone, who, what, where, when, why...
She had been like that as a child, though now she had more sense... normally. With all the past events, she really was beginning to wonder about everything and everyone.
A man walked into the inn, and nearly walked into her. She jumped back before he crashed into her, and steadied her fiddle, nearly dropping it.
"Sorry," he said gruffly, before heading to a table in the back of the common room.
He sat down with a greater than normal 'thud', and Willow flinched visibly. She hated when people sat so hard that the chair nearly broke.
Not that it had.
Unconsciously, she clutched her violin closer, and looked around for somewhere to sit down; wondering, all the while, if Aman had remembered that she was suppose to fiddle later that night...
With all the events taking place seemingly, it appeared that she might forget, and that, if the party kept up like this, things might end earlier. Willow had never liked parties that much, and nearly always slipped away before the end, anyhow.
But this one was taking so many turns, things might end up ending earlier that night.
The younger hobbit maiden walked to an empty table nearer to the edge of the room, and sat down, stroking her fiddle fondly, and thinking. Thinking of everything.
She smiled wistfully at her fiddle, and sat back to relax.
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