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Caity Brandybuck had been trudging along the road for some time. The weather had been absolutely dismal, and her green cloak hadn't really provided much protection from the persistent rain.
It was rather unusual for a hobbit to be out traveling this late at night -- although she supposed one might call it morning by now -- and Caity wondered if any of the residents of the hobbit-holes she passed, awakened by crying children or nature's call, had glanced out the window and shaken their heads at her shadow. She certainly made an unusual figure: hooded and cloaked, with various, oddly shaped bundles in her arms and making lumps in her pack.
When the rain had finally begun to let up, it had been replaced by an early-morning chill, increased in its cold feeling by the light of the quarter moon. Caity smiled up at its face -- she had always thought the moon was a beautiful sight. Then her face fell, and she resisted a few uncouth words from slipping from her lips as she realized the effect the weather might have had on the things she was carrying. She hoped she had protected them well enough.
As she grumbled to herself about how the wood had better not crack, a few friendly yellow lights appeared in the distance. Caity sighed in relief -- she had finally reached the Green Dragon. Inspired by the candles winking at her, she picked up her pace and jogged up to the entrance to the tavern. Her attention was attracted by a piece of paper nailed near the door. She tore the paper from its nail, hoping a second later that no one else would be wanting to read it. Quickly, her lips moving slightly as she read, she skimmed the notice until she found what she was looking for:
* Flute/Penny Whistle player needed, too. Ours is down with a head cold. We’re a friendly lot, willing to accommodate your style. Or if you don’t play either of those – bring what you have and join in. – Gil
She grinned to herself, momentarily forgetting the cold and the prospect of cracked wood. Please don't tell me they've already found one, she thought, turning towards the door. Taking a step inside and feeling warmth rush over her, thawing her poor toes, she suddenly realized she could go no further. A tall woman was sitting on the floor just inside the doorway, apologizing to a hobbit.
Caity didn't want to be rude, but the elf was explaining to everyone how she was a total "babbler," so she thought it might be alright to interrupt.
"Er... excuse me?" she said with urgency. "Where might I find the kitchens?"
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