Barrowdowns.

I have had to flee Bree. Shortly after I attended market day a man - I know not whom- spoke to me in Sindarin. Though I affected not to understand, it is clear to me know that some aspect of my manner or speech has betrayed my Noldor blood, despite my mannish clothing and cloak I wear tight about me. I left word with the hostler, Butterbur, that should any answer my note requesting a guide to Barrow-downs they might find me in the sheltered dell a scant few miles west of Bree.