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A broom and dustpan are needed . . .
Teluyaviel’s look of anticipation turned to one of horror as she saw the server turn toward Tindo and drop her tray of dishes. With quick steps she left her chair and hurried to the scene of misfortune.
‘So sorry!’ Telu said, crouching down, her skirts tucked out of the way. ‘Please, let me help you!’ Her slender fingers picked up the larger pieces of crockery and spilled spoons and such and piled them on the Hobbit’s tray. ‘Tindo! Get a broom, if you will. And the dustpan.’ She called out to her brother.
His brows raised at the suggestion, he looked about the room, wondering just where she expected him to find such things.
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Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night . . .
Last edited by Undómë; 07-18-2005 at 02:11 AM.
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