[Gird]

Gird was finishing off his milk, when he noticed someone enter the Inn. The only reason he really noticed him above anyone else who had entered, is because he wore a velvet cloak. I suppose if you have to wear a hooded cloak, may as well make it a nice fabric, Gird reasoned with himself.

He noted, as the man ordered his ale, he ordered it in the quantity of a tankard. Now he wasn't altogether sure what a tankard was, but it sure sounded big. He went on for a moment or two thinking about the size of a tankard. Now, is a tankard like a big tank? like a big barrel of ale? Tankard almost sounds big enough for a hobbit to be able to swin in.

Gird noted though, with a bit of dismay, as he was about to order a tankard for himself, that the man's ale was served to him. Tankard, he guessed, was just another name for a pint. Oh well, it sounded impressive.

He decided that it was about to introduce himself to the man. Gird leaned over and said with a smile, "Hullo, my name's Gird" He then reached over and grabbed the man's apple right from underneath him, and took a big bite, and interupted himself with an "oh!" and then a "this is the best apple I've had in a long time!"

He licked his lips, finally cleaning off the 'milk mustache,' that had been lingering there for quite a while. He then remembered his manners, and turned back to the man.

"I am sorry, what did you say your name was?"