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Primrose Bolger's post:
Kiera had been awake since first light – picking at the remains of her last night’s meal. She’d hauled up the basket of food the old man had left for her last night to her perch on one of the broad limbs of the oak tree in the front yard of the Inn. It was delicious! And the hot tea had given her a warm feeling from head to toe.
She was just thinking of making a dash to the pump at the front of the Inn to fill her now empty flask, when she heard cries coming from the windows that were being flung open along the front and side of the Inn. Dark, smoke roiled out, and the smell of burning grease assailed her nostrils.
Curious, she climbed down from the tree and ran to the small copse of beech that grew on the west side of the Inn. From there she could see a number of people of all sorts milling about near the well that stood in the back yard, buckets in hand. And a lone Dwarf holding a rope ladder as two kuduks climbed down to safety.
Putting aside a small bit of her native caution, she crept closer behind a screen of low bushes that shielded the kitchen garden, watching the bigger folk and the kuduk sort things out in the yard beyond. A strangely wonderful place, this Green Dragon Inn. Elves, and Men, and Dwarves. And the little folk. Pulling her cloak about her, she huddled in behind the bushes, wondering if this were a daily occurrence in this strange land.
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