Drago came into the bar, sitting down quickly by the door, pushing his worn brown cloak back from his face, allowing the dim light of the room to invade his features. He cared not. It had been a long time since he had come to the Green Dragon, indeed, been to this side of Bywater. He was hoping for a warm welcome, or perhaps none at all. He only for no hostility.
Not that he particularly deserved any. He couldn't help the fact that he and his friends had gotten lost so far away, in the Wilderlands, couldn't help that they'd all left each other one way or another down the road. He couldn't help that he was alone now. He did not wish to go back and see his mother across the Brandywine. He did not wish to hear her shrilling laments, her scoldings about how he shouldn't have gone off as he did. But he wanted someone to talk to. His stubby halfling fingers braided nervously as his eyes roved the room.
[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]
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" Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?"
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