Bree

This is a story about love, or call it a love story if you like. 

Waldera walked into the Inn of the Prancing Pony in her usual manner, craving for a warm cup of tea. She had had a day full of readings and was a bit weary of the shallow small talks of the small minded patrons of the inn. She waved kindly at the barmaid and gestured for a cup of tea in the white tea cup which she always prefers.

Theofola looked at the sky and grimaced at the bright sun. It was a warm and calm spring day in the town of Bree. She pulled the bridle of her long time friend Dawnbreeze towards the main street of the town. She felt that her legs will no longer carry her up the slope which goes to the Inn of the Prancing Pony. So she mounted the mare, with a rather agile movement expected for her old age and aching body. She gestured for the horse to move forward but Duskbreeze rather neighed nervously.

After reading the hobbit's letter, Waldera laughed airily and left the paper aside. Her sweet  laughter echoed through the stairs and the corridor as she walked out of the room. 

A Short Trip to Bree

During my time in The Shire I had heard a lot about the town of Bree, home to the tall folk and with buildings of stone and thatch reaching up to the sky I had often wished to see it for myself.

*The writing is small and neat, printed carefully as if great time was taken over each word*

Yesterday I met Amorey and Tukko in the Pony which was quite a surprise. I was in my thoughts, sitting there on my bed (comfortably soft with its warm checkered bedlinen) as they showed up - at first opening slightly the door and then yanking it wide open.