Reed sat back down in her seat for a few moments. She looked over at the man who had spoken for her, just a few minutes ago. He was being given a small plate of rolls. Reed wondered who he was. She looked down at her own meal, but was not feeling the pangs of hunger much any more.
She glanced quickly in Barak's general direction. He seemed to be discussing something with the people immediatly around him and Reed did not hope too much that it was the plan that Ros had voiced and that she had supported.
One more look to the ranger that seemed to hold a bit of sway with the qroup. Who, had now quietly resumed his soup and rolls, taking in all that was going on and being said around him.
Reed discreetly got up and left the table. The ranger seemed to be one of the few that took notice of her leave.
The inn, although old and tired, housed a cosy feeling. One could feel safe here, even if the whole rest of Middle-Earth were plunged into chaos. Reed walked over to a small stone fireplace. The flames crackled and danced as she stared into them. Almost hypnotic. There were a few chairs gathered about the fire and Reed took full advantage of being able to sit and it not be moving or hard and leathery.
She played with the top bottons of her black cloak for a bit and then took it off, slinging it over the back of the chair. Even though her shirt was short sleeved, she quite warm. Slipping the small bottle out of her cloak's pocket, Reed took a few sips, being careful to not over indulge on the strong contents within. She had just put it away when presently,
"Nothing quite like a fire and a warm inn to make one forget the snow storm outside."
__________________
~~Your finger hired the crew?
~No, that's silly. The man who lives in my finger hired the crew, Mr. Bimbol.
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