Peony followed Jean's stare to the man, Idadarion. The man was most likely drunk, judging by his behavior. "I would just ignore him." She said, looking away.
She began fiddling with a napkin near her. "So, what brings you to the Shire, Jean? Family? Just because?" She looked up and turned to see if Deva was still hanging around the inn. Nope, nowhere to be seen.
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"Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry." - Mark Twain
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