[Sirithheruwen]

It seemed Twylight had been wrong about all of the hobbits of the room being disgusted. A hobbit that looked young even by hobbits' standards bustled up. "He's very drunk. He's in no condition to be walking about. You needn't worry about it; I'll take care of him."

Without stopping to think about the stranger's reaction to her parchment-writing, she wrote:

I don't know...I feel responsible for him.

She tried and failed to attract the hobbit's attention. He just continued to examine the man with concern. "Tell me, miss, does he have a room?" He looked at her anxiously. Taking up the parchment again, she scribbled quickly:

No, not that I know of.

Seeming to stop and think for the time being, she quickly crossed that out.

Yes. Yes, I do believe he does.

While the hobbit was reading her note, she motioned to the serving maid who had helped her before. "Are you ready to go to your room, miss?" she asked, looking down her nose at the man,which wasn't too hard now that the hobbit lad had just convinced the protesting man to lie down. Twylight nodded firmly, and wrote:

Take this man to my room please. I'll be along to see him later.

Helping the man up, the two hobbits hustled their whining patient out of the common room. Twylight sighed heavily and plopped herself down at her table. She was sitting alone again.