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Rowan kept a wary eye on the Hobbit and the man, fearing at first that tempers, or at least the temper of the Hobbit, would flare up and there would be some sort of commotion. ‘Hmmmph!’ she mumbled under her breath. And just who would have to clean up after them! she thought to herself. ‘Me and Prim!’ she said aloud in a quite exasperated manner. She noted a number of those sitting near her now looked her way with questioning frowns on their faces.
Rowan busied herself piling up dishes and cups from those who had eaten and ignoring the curious lookers on she hurried toward the kitchen…only to find some strange, older Hobbit lady standing in the middle of the kitchen and the new younger Hobbit miss, the one about her age, looking at the older lady as if she, too, were wondering what was going on in here.
‘May I help you?’ she asked, setting her load of dirty dishes on the counter near the sink. ‘I’m Rowan, Rowan Muddifoot. One of the servers here at the Perch. Is there something I can do or get for you?’ She looked inquiringly from the young Hobbit to the older.
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