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The door of the little inn swung open for a moment alowing a ray of sunshine to penetrate the room. In through the door stepped a small hooded hobbit lass. Pulling back her hood revealed her ruddy, weather- worn face. Her furry feet and the edges of her cloak were caked in drying mud. Her attire, which was thread-bare and torn hinted at the hobbit's long and distant travels.
After shaking back her curly brown hair the young hobbit ordered a drink at the bar and then settled herself in a secluded corner to rest and observe the crowd of people.
Rose is back home. She thought to herself.
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"There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."-Remus Lupin
"The closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm."-Pippin (now how can you argue with that logic?)
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