[Rose]

Rose paused for a moment at the rise in the road. She loosened the clasp of her russet colored cloak, pushing the hood back from her flushed face. It had grown warmer as she’d trudged along; the noontime sun was generous with its warmth and growing more giving with each step. Her short dark curls were in disarray from the hood and several stray ringlets lay plastered against her brow. She brushed them back with a hurried gesture and shrugged the front sections of her cloak behind her shoulders. Her worn leather pack lay snug against her back, another source of uncomfortable warmth.

The Green Dragon was very near. Just a very short distance and she would be turning up the path to the inn proper. And what was that happening in the front yard, she wondered. There were a goodly number of Hobbits with mugs in their hands and a number of casks round which they were gathered. Her deep blue eyes lit up at the sight. She was thirsty after her long morning's hike.

A short time later, the Hobbit lass had crossed the yard and climbed the steps to the little verandah. Two Dwarves sat in wooden chairs a little to her left. There were mugs in their hands she could see, and their beards wagged up and down as they spoke with one another. It was a funny sort of sight and she bit her bottom lip, holding back a laugh that threatened to escape. One of the Dwarves glanced her way and she looked away guiltily, hoping he had not taken her stare as rudeness on her part.