[Elora]

Vanwe was absorbed in her work and had lapsed in her characteristic cataloging of all who normally entered a room. She found her glass was empty, it dawned upon her how much time had passed and she oblivious to it. Her head bounced up and she swept the room. Again, no uniformed coats. The table where the three women chatted merrily was familiar. New guests had arrived that she had not noticed. She would not get very much further if she failed to be alert.

She set her pencil down as she looked about, her eyes snagging on a table where two such guests now sat. A man and a woman, who shared a bond that she could sense from the other side of the room. It was in how they sat, their faces as they looked at each other, their smiles that flitted over their expressions. It looked to be one of comfort. To Vanwe it looked rather nice and idly wound strands of blonde hair around her fingers as she watched on.

Perhaps belatedly it occured to the young elf that staring at people she did not know in a commonroom was perhaps not a wise thing to do. She reluctantly dropped her gaze back to her paper. The questions column was too long for her to be happy with. Where had her mother last been sighted? The possible answers had been entered and scratched out already. Some had Harad. Some pointed her to Dol Amroth. A trail of place names that lead across Gondor and through Rohan, weaving northwards. Noone had been able to venture a possibility when she asked of her father though. That was blank.

Vanwe folded the paper and stowed it back into her pouch along with her appropriated pencil and looked around the room again. This was a nice place. It was nicer than many of the places she had been. If she started asking questions now about the Terror of Mordor, she'd promptly be tossed out. People did not like to discuss Naiore Dannan under any circumstances. She looked back to the table where the man and woman sat. Were they related, she wondered. It must be nice to have family.

Her decision made, Vanwe got to her feet with her empty glass and returned to the bar and Mistress Aman. She had a ready smile prepared for the innkeeper when Aman looked in her direction. "May I have more wine, please Aman? It is so crisp and refreshing." Beside her, patrons were discussing a cold-drake in the north preying on hapless Elves and Dwarves. Yes, she liked where she was very much for the time being. It was much better than a hedge, or a cold-drake. Her questions could keep a little longer.

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OOC: Aman, I am hesitant to write dialogue for your character as in my experience I need to be more familiar with their lexicon and rhythm of speaking as well as their character to do it proper justice. You seem more than adept with writing Vanwe's dialogue though, so please don't think I object to you including it. I will delay a little further before including Aman's replies until I have a proper grasp of her "style". I say this lest it be seen as reluctance to interact. I am doing what I can to not step on toes or overtly intrude [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]