Gilly strode across the yard pondering her conversation with Vanwe. The elf worked there than…. She seemed terribly edgey to be employed in such a public place. She couldn’t have been there long either or the tongues in Bywater would have set to speculating who such a paradox might be. At the least it was unlikely that she had anything to do with Benia’s disappearance, and Gilly concluded that she couldn’t possibly be a scout from the south.
The passing day weighed heavily on the hobbit as she determined that if she couldn’t find some indication of her friend’s whereabouts she needs must raise an alarm. Every fleeting moment could be taking Benia beyond the hobbit’s limited grasp, and as much as she was loath to draw attention to the southerner’s plight, she thought that circumstances now warranted it.
Returning to Benia’s rooms Gilly took up Old Jack Nightshade’s sword and swung it over her shoulder. She reached back to see if she could draw the heavy blade and found that she could, though the end of the scabbard flipped up as she pulled the sword from it’s sheath.
Returning to Benia’s rooms Gilly took up Old Jack Nightshade’s sword and swung it over her shoulder. She reached back to see if she could draw the heavy blade and found that she could, though the end of the scabbard flipped up as she pulled the sword from it’s sheath. It as awkward arrangement but serviceable.
Remembering that there was a no weapons policy at the inn and vaguely marveling at how her friend had managed to retain the use of her father’s sword, the hobbit chose to leave by the same route as her friend. Looking about to see that no one was watching, she carefully climbed out of the open window and descended down by use of the woody vines that grew thickly on this lonely side of the building.
The birds were not singing, and Gilly had a keen sense of foreboding as she softly and quietly searched the woods that ran alongside the the inn.
[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
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