Ruthrey

*Opens the book onto the long wooden table, looking up with each opening of the door, shifting uneasily with every sight of someone in black.  Taking some ink to page, she starts to write*

*taking a deep breath, then wincing, she continues*

*Sat on a table in the Pony, Barley munched up the scraps of meat on the dented iron plate.  Giggling at his enthusiasm she lay the journal on the table and opening it at a clean page, she begins to write

*Quickly she grabs the plate before it is nosed off the edge of the table.  Lifting Bareley toward a small bowl of water she continues, looking over her words and frowning before putting ink to paper..