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A picture began painting itself inside of Aeron's head; climbing, scented woods dominated the lands before them; the gentle, sloping lands rolled out like large earthen carpets; the refreshing streams flowing over rocks to meet the rushing Anduin. The young Ranger could even hear the water and smell the wood from the trees as Arandon had described. Aeron had a distant look in her eyes, telling those who looked at her that she wasn't there; not mentally anyways. Aeron would have remained in her reverie had it not been for the sound of a hobbit's voice mingled in with the other sounds of the Inn. Her cheeks colored pink when she looked back to Arandon, offering him a sheepish smile.
"Forgive me, Master Ranger, I was envisioning what Ithilien would look like. Please, tell me more." She paused, though quickly added,"if you do not mind, that is."
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