[Dunwen]

A short, sturdy woman mounted on a small sturdy gray pony entered the stableyard. She patted the animal's neck and murmured, "It's been a pleasant jaunt this morning, hasn't it, Cinders? Let's get you unloaded and watered and see what's what in this place." The pony's ears flicked back at the sound of her mistress' voice and she snorted as if in agreement. She had enjoyed ambling along in the clear morning too, but it was time for a drink of water.

Pony and rider paused and looked at the bustling stableyard with interest. Horses, Humans, Elves and Hobbits were engaged in their daily business, and there was delicious scent of new-baked bread and and bacon wafting from somewhere. Seeing a fair-haired young woman and a lad coming from the stables, the woman dismounted and led Cinders over to them.

"Good morning," she said. "I need a stable and fodder for my pony, and a room for me, for the next day or two. Do you have room for us?"

Aman looked down at the Green Dragon's latest arrival. She saw a slightly stout, brown-haired woman about five feet tall leading a rough-haired gray pony by a worn bridle. The newcomer appeared to be in her early middle age, with a stern face somewhat softened by a pair bright hazel eyes surrounded by laugh lines. She was dressed simply, in a linen blouse and a pair of dark homespun breeches tucked into well-worn leather boots. Her only ornamentation was a pattern of gaily-colored flowers stitched at the neck of her shirt.

"We have room, indeed," Aman said. "We'll see to your beast at once. If you are hungry, we're serving breakfast in the common room."

To Aman's surprise, the woman smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, dear, but if you'll just show me the stall, I'll get Cinders here settled myself. Barliman speaks well of the Green Dragon, but I know what she likes."

The innkeeper was torn between approval of this woman's concern for her pony and chagrin at her implication that the Green Dragon might be lacking any necessities for man or beast. Approval won out -- mostly.

"As you wish, madam," she replied ruefully. After showing the new arrival a clean stall, Aman returned to the yard to greet the next arrival.

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Several minutes later, the inn's newest guest entered the common room, carrying her saddlebags and looking pleased. If the condition of the stables was any indication, this would be a very pleasant place to stay. Looking around for an empty table, she noticed several hobbits, at least one Man, two other Women, an Elf and what appeared to be the remains of two dropped trays on the floor. Used to the constant pandemonium at the Prancing Pony, she calmly located an empty table and sat down, carefully arranging her saddlebags under her feet.

Catching the attention of a tray-laden hobbit-lass, she said courteously, "Little mistress, when you have a moment, I would be thankful for some hot tea, eggs, and buttered toast." In no time a warm plate containing a generous breakfast was placed in front her, along with a steaming mug of tea. "Thank-you, dear," she smiled. Handing the girl a copper penny, she continued, "I'm Widow Rosebank, from Bree. Would you mind asking the innkeeper if she might have a few minutes to talk to me?"