Mabbe

Finnvi entered the main room of the Prancing Pony and headed straight for the tables, looking around as if searching for someone. When she didn’t find them she made her way to the counter, ordering a troll stout before glancing sideways.
A pretty young woman was leaning on a barrel next to her. Her dress was that of the average Bree-folk, but her broad freckled face and brown locks were indeed very fair to look upon, Finnvi thought.
“Waiting for someone as well?”, she asked.