Shaking with effort of self-control, Clara slipped out of the room her cousin had insisted on sharing with her overnight. Breathing rapidly, feeling her heart pounding still, she made her way down the halls of the Pony and out into the morning. It was a misty one, thanks to the rains of the night before, which were what had prompted Belle's hospitality.
The willowy brunette wove her way through the mists to entertain herself as she alternated walking and jog-trotting along the way to Combe. By the time she got there, the day was mostly bright, with only a few scattered clouds, and a light breeze playing through her hair and along her skin. The smell of the stables came to her, along with that of fresh-cut grass, offsetting it. The chickens and dogs running loose gave her some additional things to watch and dodge as she made her way into the centre of the village, and up the steps to where the constables kept their office – including the little section thereof known to those who claimed the occasional bounties from them as the bounty office.
She found Constable Digweed as the one taking in the sun nearest that desk, waiting for someone to come by. He looked her over as she approached, and straightened his posture, but he didn't bother to go to the desk. She was obviously not there to claim bounties. His eyes narrowed just a bit. Did he recognise her? Well, that shouldn't matter for long, even if so.
"Good morning, Constable!" Her greeting was quite chipper, and came with a nice smile.
"Well, good morning. Can I help you?" His response wasn't as chipper, but at least he didn't seem grumpy. She took that as a good sign.
"I hope so! My cousin said she saw something here yesterday morning, and she was awfully curious about it. Something about a white-haired woman that's, well, at least a hand shorter than me, and about my age, with a… well, a guard horse, you might say?"
The man snorted, though it was mostly in amusement. "Your cousin saw this, you say?"
She nodded, smiling again, inwardly telling herself to keep all nice and cooperative. "Yes sir. Bluebelle Briarwool's my cousin. She saw it on her way out of town. She's fixing to apprentice with a healer in Bree-town."
"Hrm." The noise from the constable was surprised, but then he nodded. "Well, that explains where she was going at that hour. I recall seeing her. And yes, there was such a lass here. What was your cousin wanting to know, then?"
Clara chuckled. "She got me curious, too, of course. Not that you didn't know that. But what Belle was most wondering about was where she's from, if you know? She said the lady was really hard for her to understand."
At that, the constable gave a good laugh, and nodded when he got most of it out of his system. "Oh, yes! That lass never met a tee nor a haitch that she didn't like the taste of so much but she'd rather swallow them than say them proper, and that's a fact!" He shook his head, still chuckling a bit. "Says she's from the Dale-lands. I forget exactly what she said about it, though. It's been a while. She comes in and out, and when she shows up, she has enough goblin-ears to turn in we don't even try to count them. She doesn't care, since she's only after a little silver, and more in dry goods. Mostly repair materials for her gear, and some feed for her horse." He shrugged, eyeing Clara, and decided he could say a bit more. "She used to have one of those over-sized goats that the dwarves breed. Well, still does, I reckon. But that horse is new in the last year or two. I mean, new in being with her. The mare's about five or six years old, best I can tell."
Clara nodded, smiling and showing all the right signs of rapt listening. "Oh, my! The Dale-lands? Well, now!" She giggled. "Belle thought the lady might be from Rohan, on account of the horse."
A chuckle came in answer to that, then a nod. "I can understand why. And for all I know the horse is from there. She says she went there last year, which is why we didn't see her for so long. Considering she went off with a man from there, it might be true." He shrugged. "I don't much care, so long as her goblin-fighting is good – and it is."
Nodding emphatically, Clara gave him another smile. "That's good!" She pondered briefly. "I don't suppose you know… where she might frequent?" She sighed at his frown, and tried to head off his objections. "I'm looking to hire a guide for an almost local bit of travel, to take Belle to see her sister, Rhody. I'm sure you remember when their father, Wes, was found at the lumber-mill? Rhody's near-crippled now, and, well, you know at least as well as I do that the woods aren't always safe. I'd chance it with just me, but not with Belle, too."
The man eyed the young woman after a blink of surprise. "Well, Miss Clara Dora Briarwool, that's not something I'd ever expected to hear out of you." He looked her over some more, with his head tilted a bit this time. "All right. That woman goes by the name of Adri… something. Hrm. Oh, Adriellyn, that's it. And if she's anywhere sensible for you to be looking, it'll be in the Prancing Pony, I'm told, but she's not there often."
"Oh, thank you, Constable!" Clara practically bounced on her feet, and only some of her exuberance was feigned.
"Hold on – I'm not done."
She blinked at him, and canted her head, listening.
"If you're looking for a guide, you might have better luck tracking down Westen Thornstead. That Adri travels a lot, but he stays mostly local. Really good reputation around here, too."
She blinked in surprise, and gave him an even warmer smile. "Oh! Thank you so much! We might have a guide already, but I'll be back to look for him if that falls through." She repeated the man's name to herself a few times, quietly, to be sure she wouldn't forget.
"That's right, miss. And good luck." His smile to her then was warmer than she'd expected, and she gave him another beaming one.
"Thank you again, Constable! And a very good morning to you!" She waved as she started back along the road, almost skipping.
