Modest_Proposal July 10, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Title "Mmm, that makes sense. Esgaroth does not hold many of your people. But I when I did see them, they were often walking in pairs or as a small group. I, for one, try to make all know they are welcome. We are all people's of Middle Earth. All should feel welcome where they tread," she replied to Cecil, still holding the bright smile. Lachiel could tell the subject of family was perhaps a sore spot for the little Hobbit. Elves lived for so long that many grievances, misunderstandings, and things left unsaid could be worked out. She wouldn't press him further. The Elf blushed a bit at Cecil's kind words. "Elves experience time differently, from the stories I've gathered. We can go many years alone without the loneliness that oft accompanies it. I believe it lies in the expectation that there is always more time to fix what may be broken or burdened." Looking to Dahr-ol and Gramtyng, Lachiel giggled. "I do agree, Master Brandybuck--they look like a good dance would do their spirits good, though perhaps not their weary bones." Title "Back in the Mark, it was less dances and more song... Though we'd not shy away from them at festivals. As a bard, you got to know these sort of things regardless if you liked em or not." “Not many Hobbits I know like to tread much of anywhere, Brandybucks, included. The Brandywine bridge might as well be guarded by a sleeping dragon.” Cecil snarled, curling his manicured fingers into a claw. He was glad to see Gramtyng crack a smile, though he was taken aback at the keen senses of the man to have heard them. He tried to imagine the life of an elf, without loneliness or wasted time, where a friend was never more than a distance away. Five days from Mountain Hall… As the fields turned to hills, Cecil no longer could shake off the previous days’ travel. He became slower cresting the hills which rose like waves against the mountainside. “Tell me, Gramtyng. Have you ever… seen people like me in these hills? Not traveling, not on the road. Just wandering about? Or perhaps you’ve seen some hollowed dens?” Three days from Mountains hall… A fit of weariness crept over Cecil. His eyes had darkened and every morning he felt stiffer and less agreeable. His hands were still raw from paddling and he was careful not to twist his walking stick, lest he remember it. Needless detours had delayed them at least half a day from a soft bed. Whenever Lachiel or Barin heard the rustle of a squirrel or so on, they would stop and fetch Lachiel. Endless hours of skulking. They could have been to the warm hearted Woodman Hall and across the bridge in less time than this. He’d hoped that Banna leaving would have helped things, but Barin was determined. It seemed like everyday, morning broke a little bit sooner. As Gramtyng sounded the morning call, Cecil batted his hand and covered his face. “Why? The sun is not even over the hills. Let me have a little rest. Please. Some rest. If you cannot find time for a little peace, at least let me enjoy mine! Why must we be endlessly writhing about like this, without any decency?” The night had not rested him. If anything, it wore on him in lost dreams. He knew what was to come. The foothills were creeping ever steeper and he knew his feet would bleed this day. OOC: Cecil will prioritize being in the center of the party and as near Lachiel as will allow him.
Modest_Proposal July 10, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Title "Mmm, that makes sense. Esgaroth does not hold many of your people. But I when I did see them, they were often walking in pairs or as a small group. I, for one, try to make all know they are welcome. We are all people's of Middle Earth. All should feel welcome where they tread," she replied to Cecil, still holding the bright smile. Lachiel could tell the subject of family was perhaps a sore spot for the little Hobbit. Elves lived for so long that many grievances, misunderstandings, and things left unsaid could be worked out. She wouldn't press him further. The Elf blushed a bit at Cecil's kind words. "Elves experience time differently, from the stories I've gathered. We can go many years alone without the loneliness that oft accompanies it. I believe it lies in the expectation that there is always more time to fix what may be broken or burdened." Looking to Dahr-ol and Gramtyng, Lachiel giggled. "I do agree, Master Brandybuck--they look like a good dance would do their spirits good, though perhaps not their weary bones." Title "Back in the Mark, it was less dances and more song... Though we'd not shy away from them at festivals. As a bard, you got to know these sort of things regardless if you liked em or not." “Not many Hobbits I know like to tread much of anywhere, Brandybucks, included. The Brandywine bridge might as well be guarded by a sleeping dragon.” Cecil snarled, curling his manicured fingers into a claw. He was glad to see Gramtyng crack a smile, though he was taken aback at the keen senses of the man to have heard them. He tried to imagine the life of an elf, without loneliness or wasted time, where a friend was never more than a distance away. Five days from Mountain Hall… As the fields turned to hills, Cecil no longer could shake off the previous days’ travel. He became slower cresting the hills which rose like waves against the mountainside. “Tell me, Gramtyng. Have you ever… seen people like me in these hills? Not traveling, not on the road. Just wandering about? Or perhaps you’ve seen some hollowed dens?” Three days from Mountains hall… A fit of weariness crept over Cecil. His eyes had darkened and every morning he felt stiffer and less agreeable. His hands were still raw from paddling and he was careful not to twist his walking stick, lest he remember it. Needless detours had delayed them at least half a day from a soft bed. Whenever Lachiel or Barin heard the rustle of a squirrel or so on, they would stop and fetch Lachiel. Endless hours of skulking. They could have been to the warm hearted Woodman Hall and across the bridge in less time than this. He’d hoped that Banna leaving would have help things, but Barin was determined. It seemed like everyday, morning broke a little bit sooner. As Gramtyng sounded the morning call, Cecil batted his hand and covered his face. “Why? The sun is not even over the hills. Let me have a little rest. Please. Some rest. If you cannot find time for a little peace, at least let me enjoy mine! Why must we be endlessly writhing about like this, without any decency?” The night had not rested him. If anything, it wore on him in lost dreams. He knew what was to come. The foothills were creeping ever steeper and he knew his feet would bleed this day. OOC: Cecil will prioritize being in the center of the party and as near Lachiel as will allow him.
Modest_Proposal July 10, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Title "Mmm, that makes sense. Esgaroth does not hold many of your people. But I when I did see them, they were often walking in pairs or as a small group. I, for one, try to make all know they are welcome. We are all people's of Middle Earth. All should feel welcome where they tread," she replied to Cecil, still holding the bright smile. Lachiel could tell the subject of family was perhaps a sore spot for the little Hobbit. Elves lived for so long that many grievances, misunderstandings, and things left unsaid could be worked out. She wouldn't press him further. The Elf blushed a bit at Cecil's kind words. "Elves experience time differently, from the stories I've gathered. We can go many years alone without the loneliness that oft accompanies it. I believe it lies in the expectation that there is always more time to fix what may be broken or burdened." Looking to Dahr-ol and Gramtyng, Lachiel giggled. "I do agree, Master Brandybuck--they look like a good dance would do their spirits good, though perhaps not their weary bones." Title "Back in the Mark, it was less dances and more song... Though we'd not shy away from them at festivals. As a bard, you got to know these sort of things regardless if you liked em or not." “Not many Hobbits I know like to tread much of anywhere, Brandybucks, included. The Brandywine bridge might as well be guarded by a sleeping dragon.” Cecil snarled, curling his manicured fingers into a claw. He was glad to see Gramtyng crack a smile, though he was taken aback at the keen senses of the man to have heard them. He tried to imagine the life of an elf, without loneliness or wasted time, where a friend was never more than a distance away. Five days from Mountain Hall… As the fields turned to hills, Cecil no longer could shake off the previous days’ travel. He became slower cresting the hills which rose like waves against the mountainside. “Tell me, Gramtyng. Have you ever… seen people like me in these hills? Not traveling, not on the road. Just wandering about? Or perhaps you’ve seen some hollowed dens?” Three days from Mountains hall… A fit of weariness crept over Cecil. His eyes had darkened and every morning he felt stiffer and less agreeable. His hands were still raw from paddling and he was careful not to twist his walking stick, lest he remember it. Needless detours had delayed them at least half a day from a soft bed. Whenever Lachiel or Barin heard the rustle of a squirrel or so on, they would stop and fetch Lachiel. Endless hours of skulking. They could have been to the warm hearted Woodman Hall and across the bridge in less time than this. He’d hoped that Banna leaving would have help things, but Barin was determined. It seemed like everyday, morning broke a little bit sooner. As Gramtyng sounded the morning call, Cecil batted his hand and covered his face. “Why? The sun is not even over the hills. Let me have a little rest. Please. Some rest. If you cannot find time for a little peace, at least let me enjoy mine! Why must we be endlessly writhing about like this, without any decency?” The night had not rested him. If anything, it wore on him in lost dreams. He knew what was to come. The foothills were creeping ever steeper and he knew his feet would bleed this day.
