[Noinkling]

Benat clapped Hob on the back, nearly sending the Hobbit flying from his seat. ‘Dwarven spirits get that same reaction from every first time drinker,’ he laughed. ‘And, sorry for nearly knocking you down. Just wanted to get you breathing again, Master Hob.’ The big man smiled so ingratiatingly that it was impossible not to forgive him his hasty actions.

Another tot of the fiery drink was poured, then Benat stoppered the bottle and set it to one side. His gaze was caught by Gil and his friends as they came in the door, their instruments in hand. ‘Music!’ he cried with delight, nodding to where the fellows were just making their way to a large table guarded by two young children. He drank down his drink and grinned as he placed the small glass carefully on the table. ‘You know, I am feeling so good this evening, having had such a wonderful day and now finding myself in the company of good friends, that I might just stir my bones a bit this evening and show you how some real dancing is done.’

He looked about the ring of his companions, many of whose brows were raised as the image of Benat and most likely Cullen, too, rose dancing in their minds. ‘Bears are often seen dancing in the moonlight in my lands,’ he said putting on a serious face. ‘And in a very tasteful manner, I might add. Light on their feet, too.’ He glanced about the room his eyes coming to rest at the rather small dance area. ‘Though I hope my exuberance does not cause much damage to the nearby chairs and tables.’

His companions sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, not know ing exactly what to say. He laughed aloud, breaking the tension. ‘Only joking, my friends!’ he said, slapping his thigh to emphasise the point.