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Lúrëaelda's return
A low sun shone bright in the clear blue morning sky, as Lúrëaelda rounded a the hill that led to the Green Dragon inn. The road was dry and small dust clouds rose in his wake, leaving a thin covering on the deerskin boots that covered his feet and half way up his calf. As the familiar sounds and smells of the inn reached this ears and eyes he looked up, his unusual piercing yellow eyes glistening in silent recognition at the familiar sight of the green dragon hanging almost welcomingly over the door.
A single voice coming from the rear of the inn caused the Silvan Hunter to freeze, his dark grey skin paling as he recalled the admonishments of the inns Cook the last time he had arrived at the inn. As he remembered it he had been innocent in the whole incident, but still Ms Vinca Bunce was not one to upset especially when it came to food and the payment thereof.
“No, surely she will not remember,” he swallowed shaking his head and turning away from the busy kitchen sounds and facing again the welcoming entrance of the inn. It had been sometime since he had left and as well as being a little taller than before he was now more sure of himself. A lot had happened since his last visit some good and some not so, but in all that time one image had burned in his memory.
A wry grin reached his lips as he ran a nervous hand through his dark cropped hair, disturbing the thin silvery braid from his shoulder so it fell down his back over the dusty hide jacket that covered the garb of an elf of Eryn Lasgalen, would she even remember me he wondered fleetingly. Then adjusting the bow and pack on his shoulders he pushed open the green door and stepped inside, his eyes hopingly searching for the friendly warm smile of the Dragon’s innkeeper.
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