[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl sat in a small wooden chair near the fireplace, trying to catch a little warmth. She yawned and closed her eyes, getting deep mental pictures of her quiet hobbit-hole. She opened her eyes and jumped when she heard Robin collapse with emotion on Dinodas’ shoulder. ‘She’s taking Emerald's death really hard,’ she said to herself.

Another sleepy yawn overtook her, and as she stood, little chair creaked. She stretched her weak hands over her head, and rubbed her eyes. "Goodnight Dinodas, Robin, Bullroarer." She smiled, and walked to one of the small bed like cots in a black and quiet corner.

She reached into her pack, and found the brush that her Father had traded off of someone at a tavern many a year before. The shining purple handle was now rusting and faded. She silently brushed her brown curls. With a deep sigh and a long look at the group, she laid her head down on the ground, and was quickly into a light but pleasant sleep.