Post for Dyrnwyn, Sword of Flame:
Noises from the inn filtered through the door, but the tall captain did not heed them. His eyes were reflective and his thoughts wandered to and fro. Perhaps they rested upon his travels or his beautiful home, Minas Tirith. The thoughts were soon broken, however, by some unseen disturbance, and his eyes snapped back to the present, quickly regaining clarity. He was tired, many days of travel had taken their toll, and he once again felt the need to seek his room.
Caligon set off to the stables where he was greeted by a silver-grey stallion. He stroked the horse’s neck affectionately, observing with approval that the horse had been brushed down and water was available in abundance. Several packs had been leaned against the stable wall; the captain hoisted them over his shoulder and prepared to leave through the door. A loud scream checked his progress, making him whirl around with surprise. One of the horses, a black one stabled on the other side of the barn, had started kicking and neighing frantically. Caligon stopped, uncertain, but before he could make up his mind to help, another man rushed through a near door and tried to calm the frightened horse. Turning, Caligon reasoned that the man seemed an experienced horseman and had not seemed to notice his presence. He walked quickly through the doorway and back towards the inn.
Inside, however, there was even more disturbance but too many people had pressed around one of the tables for him to see the cause. “What a strange place,” he thought once more and was again aware of his fatigue. There were enough observers to help, he would only be in the way, and so once more Caligon left the situation to others in order to seek his room.
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