[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine approached the door to the White Horse Inn as the sun hid behind the golden hall of the King, casting long shadows over the town of Edoras; dusk was still a way off. He opened the door.

The fragrance of the evening meal wafted out the door and Eodwine breathed in deeply, a smile coming to his unusually dour face. He stepped into the homey light and warmth of the Inn, his stomach growling.

There was Master Falco Boffin at table, just having begun his first supper, Eodwine supposed. The hobbit turned his head to see who entered, and his jaw dropped. He closed it and swallowed.

"Eodwine! You here! Word was you were off on an errand with the King, and without me! What happened?"

Eodwine did not reply, but kept a no-tale face on, walking to the table where Falco was, and sat down beside him.

"That looks like an excellent repast. Is there more of it?"

Falco eyed him with a dubious air. "Not telling, eh?"

"Supper and a good long drink first. Where is everybody?"

"Everybody who?"

"Ruthven. Bethberry. Saeryn. Garreth. Harreld. For example."

"Haven't seen the smith brothers. Saeryn's about ... somewhere. Ruthven I haven't seen in a couple hours. Bethberry's in and out. Where's Gudryn?"

"I left her with Giedd for the evening. I'll pick her up before nightfall."

"Leaving her with the strange woman? Mighty trusting, eh?"

"She's well known in Edoras."

"Is that the all of it, Master Eodwine of the Gap?" Falco was grinning mischievously.

"'Tis enough for now. I'm ready for some supper, watching you fill your mouth with that fare. I wonder me if I should make a foray to the kitchen."

"Do that and you may lose an ear, the way I saw Bethberry handle Garreth over lunch."

"Aye. Maybe I'll wait." Eodwine settled back in his chair while Falco wiped the last bit of stew with a chunk of brown bread.