"So, what brings you to these parts? And what do you think of these adorable little hobbits?"
A shadow passed over Reynion's face. "I don't believe where I travel is any of your concern," he replied sharply, then silently groaned. And I thought I'd gotten over that sort of response. It was an idle question, Reyn, he scolded himself and schooled his expression into one of bland calm. "I apologize. I don't do well with that sort of question." His tone made it clear that any like it would get much less civil answers.
Reynion sighed. Even after years of traveling and meeting new people, he still had no social skills worth mentioning. Even Tau--no, he would not think of her. That could lead to a return to Green--no, Mirkwood. That life was over, he would not waste time in wishing for it to return. Besides, she had never spoken more than was necessary to him, and after he lost his leg, surely the only thing she would feel when she looked at him would be pity.
Reynion was startled out of his introspection when a tinkle of breaking glass intruded in his thoughts. Morlathion's clumsiness had struck again; the elf had tried to set his glass back onto the bar. Unfortunately, he hadn't been looking and had missed. Reynion pulled back involuntarily to avoid the splash of ale, and almost fell again.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Do you often get chased out of inns, Morlathion?"
[ August 08, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]
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