[Amanaduial the archer]

Emris darted down the road towards the sound of the chaos around the Inn, his dark clothes already sprinkled with snow. The scrawny-looking rohirric teen peered eagerly as far as he could down the road over the wagon parked in front of him, jumping slightly as he did so to see what was happening. But courtesy always came first and as he approached the cart he slowed from his leggy run to a more sober walk, although his excitement was barely contained.

"'Morning, Miss Ruthven," he chimed dutifully, smiling at the old woman who had long been a friend of his mother, his nurse and indeed hers before. Turning her head carefully, Ruthven smiled at warmth that made Emris sure the shawl was unnecessary - when she smiled, Ruthven always gave the boy the feeling that the warmth from inside would be enough to heat her old body and the people around her.

"Good morning, master Chaddik, and what has you up so bright and early?" She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the side. Emris gestured wildly with one gloved hand towards the children playing.

"Snow!" He cried, his excitement belying his 15 years, then noticed a young man watching the exchange for the first time, but didn't flinch, although he blinked slightly - the man was wearing only a green tunic, and in this weather! Emris felt glad for his dark, snug leather coat, the result of his friendship with his father's stable master. Nodding courteously to the man, he greeted him politely.

"Good morning and fair greetings to you, sir."

The man looked surprised, the murmured, "Not sir. Mellon is fine....master Chaddik?"

"Emris is fine, Mellon," he replied, imitating the man's words from before but grinning so as to show he wasn't mocking him. Then, excusing himself, Emris threw all the training of a 'potential nobleman' to the wind and hurtled towards the two crowds of children, scooping up snow as he did so, working through tactics in his mind and scanning the other faces to see who had come to join in the snow battle...