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The noble hound sat at Astalder's feet. The innkeeper hadn't objected to the dog's present. Scout was probably cleaner than most of the patrons anyway. Besides, he was needed for protection, especially with so much evil abroad. The dog stirred. The half-elf reached under the table to scratch his ears. “We are fine in here. Butterbur is a friend to Mithandir.” Saying 'father' in reference to Gandalf had never seemed right to here. Scout whimpered, but made no other response.
Astalder kept her hood up to she could hide her elvish traits from this rabble. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. There was absolutely no need for this stinky, boorish men of Bree to be competing for an audience. Afterall, it was not like they were the valiant, dashing men of Gondor or Rohan. These fools did not even know what the brave men in the south did to protect the lands.
She sighed, she had left the south without even a word of good-bye. She hadn't even bothered to stop in Rivendell to inform Elrond of her plans. No, he would have too much to think about in the days to come. What Astalder was doing needn't be known yet. Still, for her own safety Scout had pushed her to send some message to the lord of Rivendell. As a quasi foster father he had a right to know. Elrond would understand when her journey was complete.
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