many hours a day they could spend. Moreover, despite their constant efforts to deny the evidence, had to resign themselves to accept that his condition was getting worse as they approached his son. There seemed no possible explanation or reason that makes him. It was only as if, when approaching Tilion, les forces leave quietly. Intentioned as they were, they dared not say anything about it, but began to avoid unintentionally. If this little noticed, never showed that bothered him. Loneliness seemed to be the best company I could wish and, despite that Posada was cada night full of customers, never seemed to awaken in the greater interest than the stones of the road.
Tilion favorite distraction was interned, alone, in the depths of the forest. So he did, both day and, especially, those nights when not a whole company of armed men would feel comfortable wandering the dark sinister Yavedin. Warnings were to no avail and concerns of adoptive parents: Tilion ran into the thicket darkest night without the slightest vacilaci securcute, n. That behavior, coupled with its unique appearance, soon bring forth a wide collection of new rumors. They said the boy who lived in the Posada del Bosque had power over the dead, speaking with spirits and made deals with them.
Far from making people avoid stopping at the inn, the legend of the ghost boy who charmed attracted even more passengers. One of them was a dwarf chestnut beard, wearing a robe of fine Elven manufacturing, walking stick leaning against a more alt
-Porr both fuerron not you who will pusierron the nombrre thought aloud, stroking his beard with an attitude away. Prregunto if I mean anything ... Son of Cuerrno ... Cuerrno podrría what Serr child?
The poor men, who did not speak a word of Elvish beyond "good morning" and "thank you for your visit, nor was ; an ever questioned that the name of the small repudiationra have any meaning, they looked puzzled, unable to answer the question of the dwarf. Not that he expected, either, because then he added, speaking clearly
them:
- Podrría conocerrlo?
Innkeepers exchanged a new look, bewildered, not knowing yet what interest an athraenoriano magician in your child. However, the voice of them Tilion interrumpió.
- Son of the Horn? He asked, appearing in the stairwell. The down faster than usual, went to Thrairr and glared at him. What does that mean?
In reply, the dwarf legs failed him and dropped into a chair. His forehead was covered with sweat fríoy, in the depths of his expression, Emile and Gillian thought they recognized a clear and pure brightness m
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