Name –  Filarinda Bogfoot (Rin is her nickname)

Age –  17

Race  – halfling

Gender – female

Appearance – shoulder length curly hair, reddish-brown, green eyes, extremely tall for a hobbit. 

Personality – very adventurous, or else she won't be worth writing about. She loves parties more than anything, and she is always planning a wild prank or adventure with her friends. Like Nellethiel, she is a natural leader. Although she seems like a very social person, she likes to have some time alone every once in a while. 

Class – one of the ordinary hobbit-folk. Although her family is not as wealthy and respected as some, many of the younger hobbits secretly admire her. 

Filarinda looked back for one last look at the familiar sight of houses and gardens of Birchton before rolling down the other side of the hill. "Wouldn't Maridonna be shocked to see me now!" she laughed, thinking of her proper aunt as she brushed the grass off her clothes, pulled the burrs out of her hair and paused to lament the death of an ant whose squashed remains were stuck to her shoulder. Maridonna would be expecting her back home in an hour, so Rin had to hurry.                      

"You're finally here," Nellethiel said, glancing at the piece of paper Rin carried. "Is that the map?"

Of course!! I just wasn't sure if there were normal elves, or if we all had to be a type...... and that was the only type I knew.

Lack of looking in mirrors...... I don't know how she doesn't know really, but let's just get on w/ the story.

I know I asked this already, but no one answered, so, may I join? Please?

"Hoo-hooo-hoot." An owl's call drifted across the darkness. Silence hung expectantly as the warm wind hurried by. But everything else ... waited. Twilight tiptoed past the small round window of a hobbit hole. This was the home of the Fromaway family.

"Aunt Maridonna! Auntie! Where's Rin? She said she would be home by now. Where is Rin!?"

"Whisht, Brett! Shoutin' ain't proper. Ah, wish I knew! What could 'ave happened to her?

Maridonnna rocked back and forth nervously in her rocking chair, fiddling with a scrap of            lace-making. Her furry feet were propped up on a shabby carpet that, once upon a time, had been beautiful, now faded and threadbare. The distant sound of clinking plates came from the kitchen, where Maridonna's younger sister was washing up the supper dishes. The fire crackled, giving of the scent of aspen wood, watching Brett gallop energetically around the room, his brown curls bobbing up and down as he tried to imitate the horse he had seen once.

"Aunt Maridonna! Auntie,—"

"Hush! Child, ah told you once before—"

"But it's Rin!"

It was. The round door creaked open and a tall, red-haired girl banged her head into the top of the doorframe. Heedless, she stooped down and stepped in, a dreamy look in her green eyes. 

"Filarinda! Young lady, where 'ave you been all this time? You must be starving! You did na' even 'ave a bite to eat before goin' gallivanting about."

"I've had such a marvelous time, Aunt. I found a troll's cave," she whispered. "So exciting!" Rin's eyes sparkled as she sat down on the old wooden bench beside Maridonna.

"Tell me all about it Rinda," Brett demanded.

Maridonna leaned a little closer, but renewed her efforts on the lace, trying to pretend that she was not listening. "Gentle-folk don't go gallivantin' about with elves and such-like," she had once said.

"Yesterday, I found a map in the old library," Rin began. Her voice rippled along in the quiet room, accompanied only by the crackling fire. Brett and Maridonna, young and old, listened intently.