The cloaked stranger watched the dark-haired man and the other man talk, and felt a small pang of loneliness. Never mind, he told himself fiercely. I will have plenty of company once I reach the Forest. I hope.
He suddenly noticed that his cup was empty and arose, moving ponderously, like an old man, and approached the Innkeeper.
"A room for the night, if you please," he requested in a surprisingly high tenor voice that was completely at odds with the apparent age of his movements. It was the voice of a boy, or a very young man. One side of his scarf slipped, and though he caught it quickly, his skin was revealed for a moment. Or was it skin? It was a shade of dark brown, rough and coarse. It resembled the bark of a tree more than anything else.
[ June 04, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]
[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]
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