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Berrick Andrail, having slept like a log well into the morning, missed the excitement and the dread caused by the coming of the reindeer with the empty sledge and what had followed afterwards, but when he entered the wide room with the fire at the end of it, and people scattered about, he became instantly aware of the spirit of fear that drifted about the room. He stopped in the doorway, an exclamation of merry greeting checked on his lips. His dark eyes moved over the entirety of the gathering there.
A couple of women sat by the fire, and two other men stood nearby. A young boy, the helper here at the Green Man, sat by the kitchen door, his hand on a dog’s head. And then, lastly, he noticed the three Haflings that were there last night, again sitting at the table. The one had fainted again. What for, Berrick had no idea, but he was about to find out.
He meant to ask the lad sitting closest to him what had happened, but Bergir stood up, not having noticed him, and walked towards the fire, having been invited by one of the women there. Berrick shrugged slightly, and decided to take his inquiry to the hobbits - at least to one of the two who were still conscious.
“Good morning, friends,” he said, walking towards them. They both glanced up, and one answered with a nod and a quiet ‘good morning.’ “I’ve just arrived here,” Berrick said, “slept a bit late, I’ll admit. But what’s the trouble? The party isn’t too merry this morning.”
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