[Quicksilver_Sprite]

"Do your memories pain you to recall?" asked Willow, her voice barely above a whisper, the question almost losing itself in the noisey room. "Is there a hollow in your heart, that in the black of night pains you to the bitter core?" Farren sat silently, gathering thoughts that had scattered far and wide like spent storm clouds when the sun detroys any vestige of of watery blackness. "They don't hurt. They make me dream though. I wish I could find that place by the sea, and go back and live there, sailing out for days, only coming back when I needed provisions." Farren sighed. "But I can't."

Willow looked puzzled. "Why not?"

Her face stiff and sad as a cold iron poker, Farren replyed, "Because I can't swim." She giggled madly, enjoying the look on Willow's face. "Fooled you." Willow rolled her eyes, chuckling a bit. But even as a few rays of light cannot totally break up a downpour, a poor joke did not entirely break up the sad, wistful mood that pervaded the table. The storm clouds were on the horizon again, shading everything the soft, misty gray of memories.

At that moment, another hobbit sat down, her face slightly flushed, and a wide smile spreading across her lips. She greeted them cheerily, introducing herself as Lily Thistlewool. Taking in the downcast expressions on their faces, she looked nervous that she had disturbed them. Shaking of her dark mood, Farren smiled back at Lily. "I'm Farren."