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Old 05-17-2003, 04:42 PM   #130
Orual
Speaker of the Dead
 
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Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Superbia
Posts: 901
Orual has just left Hobbiton.
Sting

A pair of sharp green eyes spotted the Inn a little ways down the road. Their owner smiled, slinging her pack over her shoulder. Rest was ahead, with a solid roof above her, and a warm meal.

The traveller's face was weatherbeaten, creased and tanned by many years of wandering, many years since she had left her father's home. Her cloak, dark green, was patched and sewn many times over, but the silver clasp still shone as brightly as it had the first day she had worn it. Her hair was covered by the hood, though several strands of dark red slipped by her face. The tunic she wore, once beige, was now splotched and stained with wear, and her brown trousers, once her brother's, were more patched than her cloak. Her leather shoes were cracked and dirty, but intact, so she still wore them.

She slipped into the Inn, opening the door only enough to let herself through. She threw back her hood, letting her whole mane of red hair show. She was a bit of a wild sight, not having paused to brush her hair in a while, but her eyes were gentle and her face kind. She ordered a glass of wine, and, after receiving it, sat down by herself at a table by the fire.

She liked the look of this inn, the feel of it, especially the feel of a warm fire at her back. Tonight she would eat well, and have a bed to sleep in, and perhaps, if she was fortunate, conversation. She loved travelling in the wild, but she was sometimes lonely out there, with no human contact. Tonight, though, tonight would be different.

Talmérië walked over to Amanaduial, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry if I startled you," she said, smiling. "You may not recognize me, but we've met before. I want to congratulate you on your achievement. You deserve it."
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