[nynnd1]

Bredan of Gondor walked through the door, he had heard the noise from afar and did not know how his entrance would be taken, as it happened nobody even seemed to notice him, but that wa snot necessarily a good thing. It looked like the scene he expected from the stories of the Hobbit's and their land which he loved to hear, small people dancing and singing merrily, but he had not forgot his troubles, the troubles that he had since leaving the white city where he grew up.

It had been a peaceful journey from Gondor, until he was attacked at Sarn Ford by the wild men, he was still hurting, even though he had fought them off. The fact that they had stole his horse, Sam (for he had named him after his favourite character from his favourite tale) had not helped, for the walking had put back the time in which his body had to recover.

As he went to sit in the corner he smelt the room, the atmosphere just seemed to lift his worry, the shire was just what he needed, he just hoped they liked him.