On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"Ah, where are my manners? I had become so accustomed to 'Hedgemaid' that I'd forgotten I had any other name," Moridel smiled grimly, "But I am Moridel of the Dunedain. I hope to protect Eriador from evil, but thus far I'm not at all sure this is the best way to do it." Moridel glanced back at the giddy Elves and Oliphaunt. "'Tis passing strange, the Elves I am acquainted with are not half so boisterous." She sighed deeply, wishing for a moment for thought.

"Well, I suppose a bit of gaiety will do naught wrong for my spirits... even the most dedicated cannot be on alert every moment. I do wonder what brings so many Elves here at once, though. There's only one way to find out," Moridel finished, shifting her pack to her other shoulder and dropping back to talk to the nearest Elf.

She gave a deep nod, loose hair falling into her face, and addressed the Elf. "Mae govannen! What brings a host of your fair folk so far afield? Might aught be amiss in Eriador?" Most Men would not meet the gaze of an Elf, but Moridel's grey eyes looked steadily into the lamplike ones of the Elf.