As night falls over Bree, still early, even though Spring is now here, the mood is merry in the Prancing Pony.
Even though most people are still out on the Green, there are so many festival-goers in Bree, that the inn is packed.

Galar spots the small hobbit party across the taproom from the evening before.  Getting up, the Bree-lander approaches the group with a friendly smile, "So, enjoying the festival thus far gentle hobbits?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:32, Wed 22 Dec 2021.

At dusk Orodil returns to the inn. A frown is weighing his forehead down after a fruitless search for Theorondil. It's like the gloom from outside sweeps in beside him as he finds one of the only free seats, beside a young local chatting with a hobbit. He thumbs a crumbling note and glances at it from time to time before finally putting it away in his pack.

Mip offers a seat to the young man:"If you'd like to sit with us, good Sir. And yes, enjoying the Fair very much. I have to admit, the food and drinks are excellent, too, very Shire-ish."

Mip smiles from one ear to the other, looking as satisfied as one can be.

As a happy and satisified Mip invites Galar to sit amongst the the several Hobbits - Galar does see that the table seems low for him, and the stools close to the ground--

--Orodil is deep in thought at the inn's counter.

Around you all, talk is of course of matters of the Fair--
"Such a beautiful pie, I just HAD to buy it..."
--but also of matters even closet to home.