[Envinyatar]

Hithadan shifted his weight a little on the chair and eased his left leg into a more comfortable position. ‘Go ahead, my thirsty friend, and take the ale. I think I’ll stick with good, strong tea for the while.’

‘What ever happened to you?’ Will asked, reaching for the mug.

Between the chicken and the taters and the gravy and the peas, Hithadan wove his story, embroidering on it a little here and there to draw away his listener’s attention from his real business in Bree.....

‘.....and that’s what happened to my leg. Not all that exciting or thrilling really. Mostly a tale of overindulgence and sheer clumsiness on my part.’

As he finished his story, he found he’d also managed to finish his meal. With a satisfied sigh, Hithadan pushed the plate away from him and took out his pipe and pouch of pipeweed. ‘I think I’ll pass on the cookies. Just another mug of tea, I think.’

He rose carefully from his chair and limped over to the hearth. Snatching a straw from the broom by the stove, he lit it in the fire and then let his now filled pipe from it.’ A stream of fragrant white smoke curled up from the bowl as he made his way back to the table. ‘Care to fill your pipe, Master Will?’ he asked offering the pouch.

It was a one pipe evening for the Ranger. He was tired from his travels, and made more so by his painful leg. With a nod to Cook and a thank-you to Rowan, Prim, and Will for a tasty meal and good company, he made his way to his usual room for the night.