<div class="floatleft">(https://img.nickpic.host/uTgzDQ.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Galad (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=340173.msg16119811#msg16119811) (Galadhrion of Lothlórien)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>as pictured<br/><strong>Condition:</strong>Needing to stretch his legs from a ride, hungry now that he’s scented food<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The taproom  of the Prancing Pony<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone who might be interested!<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Galadhrion had left the forests of Lothlórien a few years ago to travel and take in the state of things. Although it was a blink of an eye as the elves measured time, he missed the golden woods populated with mallorn trees. The scents from other cities were harsh by comparison. It usually took a few hours to get used to the particular smells and rhythms of a new place. Sleep, real sleep took much longer.<br/><br/>Swinging a long leg over the head of his mount,  Tallagor (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c3/76/9f/c3769fe57745d68a0b85285cc344d7b1.gif) he slid from the saddle and softly landed upon the ground. The scents of food filled his nose, and his stomach awoke with a grumble reminding him of how long it had been since they ran out of lembas. He hoped the ingredients were fresh, he had been to enough inns where that wasn't the case.<br/><br/>He had travelled from the southern city of Osgiliath, a curious and bewildering city of men. It was teaming with people who would give his friend Lirion some odd looks. Tallagor was admired, Lirion was something to be wary of—it was strange to him. They had no idea how angry his steed could get or what it could do when angry but the were afraid of his wolf.<br/><br/>He didn’t bother tying Tallagor to the post by the trough of water, his mount wouldn’t wander and anyone doing much more than admiring him would get more trouble for their efforts then they could manage. The trough’s water was acceptable, so Galadhrion entered the Prancing Pony. It was one of his rules, if the water for Tallagor was stale he would move on until he found better. He had to make a number of rules for traveling outside of elven lands. The many races that lived side by side were rather different and he saw himself as a representative of Lothlórien, he would be ashamed if anyone approached the Lady of Light or the Lord of the Golden Wood with any disparaging remarks about his character.<br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cb/76/f6/cb76f6cc52170c02965d6dd4cf7e3d99.jpg)</div><br/>He slipped off his traveling cloak and shook it for dust then ran his hands through his golden hair. Many of his race were accused of vanity instead of what it really was, manners. Making sure you were clean and presentable was showing respect for your host and those around you, that is what his mother had taught him. He rinsed his hands and made sure there was no mud that clung to his chest from the ride. He is a Noldor by heritage and features, but his fair hair had many thinking he was Sindarin. He entered the inn as the challenge was asked "And where this Terror and his soldiers are going anyway? North? North is a vast land…" Of course, that piqued his interest.<br/><br/>His wolf followed him in, Lirion was hungry too and from experience, hunting in the city was bound to cause problems. Who has pet rabbits anyways? Galadhrion spent a few days finding a 'proper' fluffy white bunny, because the tawny hare wouldn't do. Lirion was fine with it, he liked eating hares just fine. In the end he had made some mannish friends and the formerly distraught children tried to feed and hug his wolf. The flame-haired woman wanted to know about the dangers to the north and he found himself in agreement with her. He approached her table with an animal ease.<br/><br/>“Good afternoon, I am Galadhrion, most call me Galad, it’s less of a mouthful." he introduced himself with an inclination of his head. He had grown up around Galadriel and Celeborn, the observation of proper court manners were a bit much for the day to day citizen outside of elven lands so he held back on many of the more flowery ways of expression. "May we sit with you?” Galadhrion asked Cat. “I would like to hear news about the north as well. This is my friend Lirion,” He glanced around to see if there were any indications of what was on the menu for tonight. Lirion would look up at the human lady wondering if there was going to be screaming and panic.<br/><br/>