Another day, another leg in their journey and another handful of miles she was forced to spend time with probably the oddest bunch she had ever the fortune of knowing. As usual, everyone looked at her and BC, though by now it was the norm and she thought little of it. The only one that bothered her was the looks from the piece of knife ear trash that sat on the back of the wagon. Oh, if her father could see her now, in a group that contained one of<span style="font-style: italic">things</span>.<br/><br/>Smoke curled out from between her lips only to be reclaimed by her nostrils before she again expelled the cloud. Honestly, if she had not her pipe, she probably would have punched the bitch, or even cut those ugly things from the side of her head. People can look all they want, but overly inbred beasts like elves needed to learn to keep their gazes to themselves.<br/><br/>The others weren’t so bad and she figured she could get along with them no problem, though they were the most untrusting bunch she had ever met. They were about to head into certain doom and would likely have to rely on one another and yet they could barely chat with one another. This, a good war this did not make. Maybe they were just shy? It was possible, they were human after all; well save for the thing on the wagon, so that could be part of their problem.<br/><br/>As the large woman swayed in the saddle atop the bull, she puffed lightly on her pipe and thought about how she could make this sour faced band of misfits friendlier. As was her habit, she hummed while she thought and smoked and it was as if lightening itself had struck her square in the face for the way she grinned.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">“Roads go ever ever on,<br/>Over rock and under tree,”</span></div><br/><br/>The words were soft at first, while she looked about the group. The strange haired girl in the wagon should know the song easily enough, for it was one sung often in their homeland.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic"> “By caves where never sun has shone,<br/>By streams that never find the sea;<br/>Over snow by winter sown,<br/>And through the merry flowers of June,<br/>Over grass and over stone,<br/>And under mountains in the moon.”</span></div><br/><br/>The more she sang the louder she became and for all her gruff appearance, Taliha was actually pretty good at singing. At least in the sense of human range and pitch, her dwarven family teased her for how “human” she sounded, which often had her attempting to sing a lower pitch though that never felt right. So, she gave up and just sang in the way that was most comfortable, which brings us to this moment in her journey.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic"> “Roads go ever ever on<br/>Under cloud and under star,<br/>Yet feet that wandering have gone<br/>Turn at last to home afar.<br/>Eyes that fire and sword have seen<br/>And horror in the halls of stone<br/>Look at last on meadows green<br/>And trees and hills they long have known.</span></div><br/><br/>The song would continue until its completion whether or not the others choose to join in, she hoped that they would, but if they choose to continue with this silent hardass nature she would gladly sing on her own.