The Green Dragon Inn - Part 6 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Envinyatar · 10-08-2003, 03:06 AM

She was talking, but he had lost track of her words.

His eyes were on her hands. They were strong, with long tapering fingers. And they moved gracefully as she spoke, like birds gliding from branch to branch. Sure of themselves in their flight.

Solid, working hands. Nails cut short, not fussed over. Their skin stained by the sun. He imagined them roughened by use, and was surprised when her fingers grazed the back of his hand in passing as she took his mug to refill it. Smooth . . . soft . . .

He caught the end of a question she asked. Something concerning clay, he thought. His brow furrowed and he glanced up at her expectant face.

‘Clay, m’Lady?’

10-08-2003, 03:06 AM	#11
Envinyatar Quill Revenant Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: Wandering through the Downs..... Posts: 849	She was talking, but he had lost track of her words. His eyes were on her hands. They were strong, with long tapering fingers. And they moved gracefully as she spoke, like birds gliding from branch to branch. Sure of themselves in their flight. Solid, working hands. Nails cut short, not fussed over. Their skin stained by the sun. He imagined them roughened by use, and was surprised when her fingers grazed the back of his hand in passing as she took his mug to refill it. Smooth . . . soft . . . He caught the end of a question she asked. Something concerning clay, he thought. His brow furrowed and he glanced up at her expectant face. ‘Clay, m’Lady?’ __________________ ‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’ – Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'

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