Lauromae Moonstone made his presence seemingly unknown as he wandered outside of the inn. He had followed her here, without her knowledge, and he wanted it to remain so until he felt she was ready.
He was clad in the garments of Mirkwood. His long blonde hair fell straight down his back as his elvish gaze pierced through the glass and into the mingling people. A full quiver was to be seen, yet his bow remained hidden. It was rare enough that an elf was made present in the shire, but he had to make sure she was alright.
Turning his back to the wall he glanced at his surroundings. The people seemed friendly enough and hardly set a look in his direction. Perhaps elves were more common here than he thought...
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Ad Astra Per Aspera (A rough road leads to the stars)
"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens"
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