Sailing Away RPG

[piosenniel]

Firefoot’s post

Sondo hurriedly shoveled down his breakfast. He was eating by himself this fine May morning, a rather unusual occurrence. His friends, scattered across the large dining hall, were likewise alone; they had all agreed it would be best if they were not seen leaving Brandy Hall together so as not to arouse suspicion. For this was the day that his adventure was to start! Sondo had been awaiting this day for some time, ever since he had decided on his newest and grandest exploit yet: to sail down the Brandywine and explore new lands and come back, maybe even with treasure like old Mad Baggins had.

Upon finishing his breakfast, Sondo stood to take his plate back to the kitchen. Such was his good mood that Sondo bid the cook a good day as he delivered his dish. She recognized him; Sondo had caused trouble more than once in her kitchen.

“Be off with you!” said the cook, smiling and shaking her long spoon at him. “And if you are to cause any trouble this day, make sure that it is not in my kitchen!” Sondo laughed and promised that he wouldn’t, for once meaning every word. As he threaded his way back through the long dining tables, he passed a few of his friends and exchanged discreet conspiratorial glances. Those who knew Sondo well would recognize the look on his face as the one he wore when he was up to something.

The hallways were fairly busy, but Sondo passed through them unnoticed - it was the start of a busy day and no one paid much attention to a young hobbit lad. He slipped out one of the side doors while no one was watching. It was the perfect day to start an adventure: the sky was deep blue and a light breezed caressed his face, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of spring. He struck up a fair pace and whistled as he walked, taking the road south past the turn to Bucklebury Ferry.

As he walked, Sondo allowed himself to review the past few weeks with great satisfaction at what had been accomplished. There had been much to do and plan before he could leave. He had first needed to convince his friends what a wonderful idea it was. This had perhaps been the easiest part, because Sondo could make even the most fool-hardy plan sound like a brilliant idea to his group of friends, and they had taken to the idea almost immediately anyhow. He could not even begin to count the near-misses and scrapes he had gotten them into, but still they listened to him, for often as not his ideas worked out excellently and they had a fun time carrying them out.

The next step had been to build a raft and secure supplies. After all, one could not have an adventure without proper supplies. Slowly, secretly, they had confiscated tools and food from the immeasurable resources of Brandy Hall. Someone had found an oilcloth to keep the needed supplies safe from water, because whatever they found had to be stored in their secret stash near the bank of the Brandywine. This was the same cove where they had kept the unfinished raft. Sondo had found himself a hunting knife, a weapon he deemed fitting for adventures. It was in his pocket now - he could not have worn it outwardly inside Brandy Hall because it would have been noticed for sure. The food, enough for several days, had been stolen from the kitchen over the course of the past week. Their sailing vessel was of simple design: logs roped together and caulked with tar, and a makeshift mast with a sheet tied to it for a sail. The hobbits had only finished and tested their raft yesterday, and found with great jubilation that it floated easily, even with all of their weight on top of it. Then they had secured their supplies to the raft and covered those with the oilcloth, ready for sailing.

It was not long before Sondo came to the little creek that crossed the road. The road was clear, so Sondo turned to follow the stream to the Brandywine. The land here between the road and the river was covered by a sparse forest, so the Brandywine did not come into vision until he was nearly upon it. The surface of the muddy river appeared to flow lazily, but Sondo knew that the current was much swifter than it looked. He turned left to reach the storage location of the raft. The place was a little inlet, invisible from every angle except the north, and only then at a close range.

Sondo was the first to arrive, and he was relieved to find everything exactly as it had been left. He resisted the urge to look and make sure the oilcloth was secured correctly. It had been checked several times already and the supplies had been arranged specifically so that the things that would be needed first were on top. There was no need to rearrange. Having nothing else to do, Sondo sat down on the raft with his back to the mast and waited for his companions to show up, dreaming of the adventures he would have, each one being more fantastical than the last.

[piosenniel]

Boromir88's post

This morning Rory was forced to eat with his parents, and siblings, because of the last incident. Rory convinced his youngest brother, Madoc, that Mirabella had taken his mushrooms they got from Old Maggot. Madoc ended up throwing his tea on his sister's dress. Like always Rory's parents found out he was behind it, and forced him to wash the dishes after every meal, and eat next to them, away from his siblings.

Rory sat eating next to his mother, who kept shooting glances at him. He wondered how he was going to be able to escape this time, his mom barely kept her eyes off him. Rory knew he had to escape, and sat contemplating how to do so. He already spotted Sondo had left, so he figured he better get out soon.

They already had food stocked by the river, but he managed to slip in some extra bread and berries into his pouch. Mirabella began to complain that she wanted some more tea. "I'm thirsty mama" she whined.

"Honey," Daisy said turning to her husband, Filiburt. "Could you get the kids some more drinks."

Rory perked up, this could be his chance he thought, "I'll do it." His mom looked at him suspiciously, but thought with all the trouble Rory was in, he should do it. "Ok, just don't you go causing any trouble for the cook. She fixes you these meals, you should be more grateful."

"Don't worry mama," he tried not to smirk, or appear he was up to something. He ran up to the cook and kindly asked, "May I get some more tea m'am?"

"Why of course you can, since you asked so nicely. I can't stand hobbits with no manners." She gave Rory a tray, with 6 cups filled with fresh, hot tea.

"Thank you m'am" he replied.

"Why anything for a generous little hobbit like yourself." she smiled.

Rory began walking back towards the table he was eating at, and figured it was now or never. Suddenly, he tripped over his feet and fell flat on his face, as the tray and tea cups went shattering on the floor. Every person dining in the hall turned their eyes on Rory, and the cook began to get red faced, she couldn't stand having to replace her precious china. Rufus and Madoc started cracking up laughing, acting out the scene, and Mirabella began to smirk realizing her brother was about to get it again.

Rory tried his best to keep a straight face, "Gee, I'm sorry m'am. This is all my fault, I'll go get a broom and sweep up this mess. I'm sorry, I'm just so clumsy sometimes." Rory let out a fake frown.

The cook's face which was flooded with red subsided back to normal color, "Oh it's ok, that sort of thing happens a lot around here. You're a nice boy. Yes, go get the broom, and sweep this up."

Rory spotted his parents rushing up to where he tripped. They had an expression of worry, and anger in their faces. Definitely worried they wouldn't have to compensate the cook, and angry at their son.

"Oh, I hope he hasn't caused you any trouble." Daisy pleaded with the cook. "Forgive him, he's constantly causing trouble." She let out a sharp glance at Rory. Rory bowed his head, knowing he was going to get in trouble, and probably be in more trouble when his parents found out what he was going to do.

"Not a bit," the cook responded, "your son was very kind, he even offered to clean this up. Don't worry about it." She then looked at Rory, "Just go get the broom, I'll sweep this up."

Mirabella had joined behind her parents, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. Daisy and Filiburt kept saying how sorry they were, and hope that Rory didn't cause her any problems. The cook kept reassuring them everything was ok.

Rory sprinted off, recognizing now was his chance. With his brothers occupied, fighting with eachother, and his parents and tattle-tale sister up with the cook. He bolted out of the door as fast as his feet could carry them, without stopping until he couldn't see the hall anymore. Oh boy, I'm going to get it when I get back, he thought. He quickly brightened, when he heard a faint chatter up towards the river, some of the hobbits must have already appeared. He figured they were waiting on him. He got to the hiding spot, Sondo and the other hobbits signalled him over, they were still waiting on a few others who said they would come. Atleast he got away, but he wondered if his parents knew he was gone yet, probably, it was a good ten minutes since he left the hall. He couldn't turn back now though, he knew he was already in deep trouble, might as well make the best of his opportunity.

[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age's post

Bingo fidgeted impatiently as he shoved the last morsel of breakfast into his mouth. Although the lad normally returned for seconds and thirds, he did not intend to linger over his platter this morning. Bingo was almost too excited to speak. He had finally been invited by young Sondo to share in a grand adventure. Bingo really didn’t care where the lads were going or what they were doing. He had paid little attention to all the details. The important thing was that he was not being left out. The young Hobbit had risen early, packed his little satchel, and made sure that his bow and quiver of arrows stood nearby. Then he had done the same for his brother.

Bingo watched as his Aunt Hilda bustled back and forth between the kitchen and the table, carrying platters of hot cakes to be shared by her three offspring who were hungry young tweeners. Bingo reflected that it was as good a time as any for he and his brother to make their escape…..

“Aunt Hilda, I hope you won’t mind…. Just last night Cousin Melilot talked to me and suggested we stay with her a bit.”

Aunt Hilda looked back with a question on her face. “But I thought she and her husband were just getting settled into that small burrow, the one down by the river?”

“Yes,” continued Bingo, thinking as quickly as he could. “They need two young lads to help them unpack the furniture and parcels, and get things in order. Please, Aunt Hilda, we can help her.”

The night before, Hilda had been thinking how nice it would be if her widowed mother could pay a visit from the Southfarthing. She did not want to toss Bingo and his brother out the door, but they were staying in her only guest room. Hilda had considered asking them to sleep in the pantry, but this new suggestion seemed to fit in perfectly with what she had been considering. She looked at the two youngsters and smiled, “Yes, I suppose a visit to Cousin Melilot might be a good idea, especially if you two can be of help to her.”

“We’ll go this morning,” Bingo added. “As soon as we’ve helped you clean up.”

Within the space of an hour, Bingo and his brother were headed out the door of Brandy Hall, lugging their belongings with them, along with a generous wrapped luncheon packet that Aunt Hilda had provided. They quickly reached the large oak that marked the path where Cousin Melilot’s new smial stood. “Down there,” urged Bingo to his brother. “Go on. Just tell Cousin that I’m staying at Brandy Hall for a few more days to help Aunt Hilda arrange her library. I’ll come later.”

“But Aunt Hilda doesn’t have a library! And what if our kin start asking questions?” his brother objected. “Anyways,” he added more gently, “I don’t want you to leave me. Why can’t I come with you?”

“No, not this time. You weren’t asked. And for once I want to do something with Sondo. Anyways, no one will ask questions. They’ll just be glad we’ve gone somewhere else for a while. I’ll be back in a day or two. I promise. Don’t worry!”

His younger brother sighed, and reluctantly turned down the pathway that led to Cousin Melitot’s burrow. Feeling free and happy, Bingo raced down the other path that led towards the River. Ahead of him, he could see the raft bobbing in the water, and one or two Hobbit lads gathering their things together on the shore.

[piosenniel]

Encaitare's post

Reginand felt rather abandoned as he watched Bingo go happily off down towards the riverbank with a spring in his step. He looked gloomily towards Cousin Melilot's door, bright yellow in the side of the hill.

I could still go back home, he thought, dreading the idea of spending several beautiful spring days indoors. But then that would give Bingo away, and I can't do that either.

The young hobbit found himself dragging his feet as he slowly made his way up the path, gently swinging his satchel around. It was a sunny day, and the whole Shire seemed to be coming alive again. He ought to be outside romping in the grass or playing by the river with Bingo, not left by himself to unpack boxes and move furniture.

Another look at the yellow door did it for him: there was a cart just outside of it, covered in bundles and packages. He wouldn't have minded so much if Bingo had stayed, but there was not a chance that this was how he would spend these days. Why shouldn't he have an adventure too, like so many of his older Took relatives, or even that funny Bilbo Baggins?

Making up his mind, Reggie turned about and raced down towards the riverbank. There he could see a raft floating in the water. Bingo was there with Sondo, and another hobbit who he knew to be called Rory. Bingo noticed him approaching and looked at him sternly.

"Reg, why aren't you at Cousin Melilot's?"

"I can't go there and unpack things for half a week! If you think I'm going to do that, boy, you're crazy, Bingo Brandybuck--"

His older brother did not look amused. "You must go, or else Aunt Hilda will come looking for me. Come on, Reggie," he said more quietly. "Please, just go."

"Can I come with you?" Reginand said, turning to Sondo, who was watching the whole spectacle. "I won't take up much room on the raft, and I won't weigh it down at all -- see? I'm small enough!" He jumped up and down a couple of times for emphasis. "I can help you lads with whatever you need. Please?"

[piosenniel]

Kitanna's post

Marroc shoved a last piece of bacon into his mouth, hoping now to get away to join Sondo. Marroc pushed back from the table and headed for the door. "Where do you think you're going?" His mother said, pulling him back into his chair.

"Out to help Father."

"Not without more than a few pieces of bacon you're not." Ruby shoveled more bacon and some eggs and bread onto Marroc's plate. "You'll need your strength to go out with your father and brothers today."

Marroc dug into his food, barely taking anytime to chew it. "You're going to be sick." His oldest sister Daisy said. "No one will get any work done today if you get sick and they have to carry you back."

Marroc tried to say something with a chunk of bread in his mouth. "Daisy's right, take your time."

The Hobbit lad mumbled and paced himself. But the entire time his tapped his foot nervously on the floor. He had to get away. He had to go join up with Sondo.

Finally he cleared his plate of all traces of food. "May I go now? Please?"

Ruby looked over him and smiled warmly. "I suppose so, but stay out of trouble. There's work to be done and there's no time for your foolishness."

Marroc jumped out of his chair and ran outside. He did a quick check to make sure no one was watching and he headed away from the field. On his way to meet Sondo and the others Marroc stopped off at a hollowed out tree trunk. Inside he had hidden his knapsack with his slingshot and plenty of stones, a few apples, and water. He grabbed his walking stick as well and headed off.

[piosenniel]

Crystal Heart's post

Samuel tip toed as lightly as he could towards the door. Today was the day that he would go out on adventure, or something. As long as there was food involved. That's all that mattered. That's what the others had said. They had promised him food. That and a vacation away from his parents which in his opinion was the greatest present anyone could ever give him.

"Samuel Brandybuck, where do you think you are going?" His mother's shrill voice yelled from in the kitchen. He swore under his breath.

"I'm going to the secret hangout with the cousins, Mum," Sam answered, trying not to let the anger show in his voice.

"Without doing your chores?" His mother's voice questioned.

"I did them!" Sam shouted back.

"You have not Samuel and you know it. Don't you lie to your mother." Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. He looked at the door. He could just run. What could she do? She would never be able to catch him, that he was sure of.

"Okay, I'll go do them," Sam answered as he opened the door and walked right out. He laughed to himself as he walked down the path. He walked down to what he usually called the "creek of death", due to reasons even he didn't entirely understand, and the raft where Sondo had told him he would be.

He wondered if his mother would be mad and realized that she would be. He started to think about the punishments she would ensue. Probably locking him in his room for a week. Maybe even doing even more chores, if there were more chores. Then a thought hit him. She could take away the food, but she would never..... He stopped and thought about it. Should he take the chance?

Sam shrugged his shoulders, knowing that his cousins and other family members would never allow another Brandybuck to go hungry, and headed off towards the creek of death.

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel’s post

Falco Brandybuck sat up in the apple tree, picking the fruit and studying them carefully, and then choosing which he would eat and which he would cast aside as no good. Every now and again he would look out of the corner of his eye towards Brandy Hall, where his family was, more than likely, just finishing breakfast. He had had some difficulty in deciding which he preferred more: to go eat the fine breakfast with his family, or to climb the tree and sit nearer the sky, and dine upon his desserts at once. He knew well he would be scolded for taking his dessert before he had eaten a single meal, but he knew also that it would not take the taste of the apples from his mouth. He didn't know, or rather he had forgotten, that his mother was going to make apple pies that day. Having forgotten (for he had not paid her close attention when she was speaking), it never occurred to him that he would be punished in the manner of being denied his fair share of pie.

He was ignorant, and he was happy. The apples tasted fine, the clear spring breeze rustled through the leaves and through his hair, and he was at peace.

A little pattering of feet on the grass below called his attention, and he saw a head of waving brown hair below him. It was his sister. He choked back a laugh of excitement, for he was hiding and she was searching for him. He put a half-eaten apple into his pocket, in case she should find him, for he did not want to be caught in his guilty act, and he pressed himself against the tree trunk. She looked here and there with a perturbed frown on her face, pattered a little way further, and then returned, her hands on her hips and her head cocked angrily to one side. She looked here and there once again, and then she rolled her eyes upwards in a sigh of annoyance. She caught sight of his blue shirt, and was immediately at the foot of the tree, calling up to him.

"Falco, Mamma 'as been looking for you everywhere and she's very angry. Why do you run 'way from breakfast?" And then her big eyes widened and she said, "Were you eating apples up there?"

"Yes," said Falco, and brought himself to the ground. "But don't tell Mamma, Rosa, and I'll give you an apple too."

"Oh no, naughty boy," she said, shaking her finger (and looking just like her mother). "You are very naughty to be stealing those apples, and I won't 'elp you."

"Stealing?" said Falco indignantly. "Why, I was just eating them because I was hungry!"

"You should 'ave et your breakfast, naughty boy."

"Please don't tell Mamma, Rosa," said Falco, his voice pleading and his hands catching her own.

She pulled away from him and fixed her determined eyes on the Hall, but she did not move. Rather, she cast him a keen sideways glance and said, "Will you give me your piece of apple pie if I don't?"

"Apple pie?" said Falco, very stupidly.

"Yes," said Rosa. "Mamma is making apple pie and if you don't give me yours I will tell 'er that you et those apples!"

He had forgotten about the pie. Ah, well. Either way he would lose his share. It was better to lose them to Rosa and escape a scolding. He nodded. "You can have the pie, Rosa, but don't tell Mamma."

"Then I won't," she said.

"I'm sure Sondo and the other boys were looking for me?" he said, and he presented it as a question.

"No, no," she said. "But soon everyone will be looking for Sondo and the other boys."

"What do you mean?" said Falco, quite as stupidly as before.

"I saw 'im leave very quietly, and he ran 'cross the grass towards the river. I wonder if 'e's running 'way?"

Falco turned pale. How could he have forgotten? He recalled, vaguely, that Sondo had been saying something about an adventure, and something about the river, and the raft. Again he questioned himself: how could he have forgotten?

"Rosa, I have to go now," he said. "Don't tell anyone that you saw Sondo leave, or that you saw anyone leave, or that you saw me leave."

"What will you give me if I don't?"

"My piece of apple pie."

"You already gave that to me."

"Then you can tell Mamma about the apples." It didn't matter if she knew. He wouldn't be about to be scolded. "Tell Mamma about the apples, and I'll give you my pie for not telling about us going."

"Very well," she said, "but don't you be running 'way too."

"Of course not, Rosa," he murmured, and giving her a little pat on the cheek he turned towards the river and ran with all speed he could muster.

[Firefoot]

Sondo frowned at Reggie jumping up and down on the raft. He wouldn’t sink it, that was for certain - but that wasn’t the problem. He waved the slightly younger hobbit over to him, saying, “Come here for a second.” The excited hobbit hurried over and stood in front of Sondo. Bingo was frowning in the background. Sondo had always maintained a tenuous relationship with the brothers as far as plans for activities and mischief were concerned, sometimes involving Reggie and sometimes not. In truth, he had no problems with the younger brother accompanying them; Reggie was friendly and Sondo liked him. What Sondo really wanted to know was a very petty concern that Reggie’s remark had raised: who was smaller? Sondo took great pride in his short stature and did not desire to be taller than anyone. He looked Reggie over critically as if wondering whether he was fit for the expedition. He felt a wash of relief at finding Reggie to be just slightly taller and gave a decisive nod.

“So I can go?” Reggie asked, taking the nod for approval.

Sondo decided to risk the annoyance of Bingo. After all, he was the leader and the whole adventure was his idea, so he said, “If you really want to, it’s fine with me - but do you even know where we’re going?”

“Well, obviously you’re going to take the raft and sail away, right?” answered Reggie. Sondo nodded, “Basically, yes - we are going to have an adventure down the Brandywine” and left it at that. He hoped that Bingo would not be mad at him, but if he was Sondo figured Bingo would forgive him. If he didn’t... mutiny would not be tolerated. Sondo chuckled inwardly at his own joke.

Sondo turned around to see if anyone was missing. Someone was; Sondo mentally check-listed all present and discovered it was Falco. Sondo’s brow creased worriedly. He wasn’t always sure whether Falco heard or listened all the plans he made and was concerned that he had forgotten. They would have to be going soon because if they weren’t far enough away by the time they were discovered to be missing, all of his plans would be in shambles. Sondo did not want to leave anyone behind, but time was valuable... Just then, Falco sprinted into their midst looking rather out of breath.

“Am I late?” he panted.

Grinning, Sondo shook his head. “Just on time,” he said, and then louder, “Hey, we’re all here now! We’re ready to sail!” A small cheer broke out as they began to load onto the raft. Everyone was ready to go after all their preparation. Last-minute supplies which the lads had thought to pile on board were all heaped together on top of the other covered supplies. Soon everyone was balanced aboard the raft save Sondo, who boarded last after carefully untying the rope anchoring the raft to shore. He tossed the rope onto the raft and leapt aboard, shoving the craft out away from shore.

Seeing the open, murky waters of the Brandywine laid out before him, Sondo felt a rush of exhilaration. He was actually going to have his adventure! Once they were past the borders of Buckland, which was not far, no one would be able to stop them. He let out a whoop. He was off to tame the Brandywine, and maybe even come back famous and rich. Why not? Anything was possible.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo stretched out on his stomach and sprawled at the back of the little craft while he stared fixedly at the Brandywine, or the Baranduin as his father had usually called it. He wiggled his body forward another inch or two, hanging his head and arms over the edge and slipping his fingers into the muddy waters. Steady rain had fallen for the past two days so the level of the river was higher than usual for this particular time of year. Surprized by the strength of the rushing current that flowed through his splayed fingers, he wondered if the boat was strong enough to survive the long trip that lay ahead of them.

Bingo had no real sense of where they were going, but he was sure it was very far away and that they would have a wonderful time. For one moment, the young lad considered what would happen when they finally got to the point far down the Baranduin that Sondo had picked out as their destination. Since the river's current ran in only one direction, how did Sondo think they would return home? He was quite sure the other lad had a plan. Maybe there would be fine ponies waiting there. They would climb on their backs and return north in a triumphant procession. Bingo imagined arriving back in Buckland with a pony of his own, sporting many souvernirs of his journey and with stories to tell everyone. Master Saradoc and the other residents of Brandy Hall would be so proud of the lads' bravery and resourcefulness that they would never dare say a cross word.

Noticing that his brother was fidgetting about and having trouble getting settled on the far side of the raft, Bingo yanked himself out of this pleasant daydream of cheering Hobbits and focused his thoughts on their real dilemma. Reggie had appeared out of nowhere. He loved his brother dearly. If truth be told, Bingo felt responsible for keeping Reggie out of trouble in the same way that their own father would have done. But he had hoped for a few days on his own when he wouldn't need to carry that heavy burden. Now all that was spoiled. Worse yet, Cousin Melitot would realize something was amiss when Reggie did not show up at the burrow as he had promised. And who knows what she would do after that? Still, Bingo vowed to stand up for his brother whatever happened and make sure the two of them came safely home to Brandy Hall. At the back of his mind was the distant image of his mother and father who had gone off on a voyage and never returned.

Lost in these ponderous thoughts, Bingo did not notice that he had wriggled sideways and, by so doing, accidentally gave Samuel a hearty poke in the ribs with his elbow......

[Crystal Heart]

Sam had been sitting peacefully, looking at the river until Bingo decided to poke him, which in his opinion was ENTIRELY uncalled for.

"Why in the heck are you poking me you little orphan?" Sam asked him angrily, his eyes turning dark. He never could understand stupid children's nonsense. In fact he had never really understood any one else in the Shire ever. He couldn't stand their stupid habits, their dumb words, and anything else about them. If he wasn't a hobbit he would have run away years ago to a place that had no hobbits only himself. And perhaps a maid to cook for him. And perhaps another maid to clean up..... He shook his thoughts away and returned to being thoroughly mad at the young hobbit lad before him. He wasn't sure if Bingo had even said anything. He was sure he probably did.

"Blah blah blah, all your darn excuses. Get away from you!" He roared, totally prepared for a fist fight. A good long fist fight would make him happy and hungry and then he could eat some food and be happy. Yes, a good fist fight was just what he wanted. Particularly with this snot nosed little hobbit lad that had ticked him off by being so entirely stupid by deciding to poke him. Wasn't it enough that he had even agreed to go on this stupid idiotic adventure? Besides everything else didn't Bingo know who he was? He was Samuel Brandybuck for goodness sakes and no one and he meant no one should ever disturb him when he is actually in a good mood. For he was always in a good mood except for the times when others decided to make him angry then he was in a horrible, rotten mood where he just wanted to hurt others and eat.

The thought of food made Sam's stomach grumble in protest.

"SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?! NOW I'M HUNGRY AGAIN!" Sam bellowed as he got up and went over to his large pack to get some food.

[Boromir88]

Rory was in a cheerful conversation with Marroc and Reggie. They were sharing their stories of how they made their escape. Rory was of course exaggerating.
"I told my Ma, I was going, whether she objected to it or not."

"What did she say?" asked Reggie.

"She said not after the stunts I pulled. But I didn't care. I'm here aren't I?" The two hobbits nodded their head in approval. Rory told them about the tea and the broom. Reggie and Marroc listened intently. Reggie began to tell his story about Aunt Hilda, and saying they were going to their cousins, when some spiteful words broke out on the other side of the raft.

Sam and Bingo were engaged in a bitter debate and were on the verge of exchanging fists. Sondo was desperately trying to calm the situation, but it wasn't helping much. "Watch out" Rory shouted, "you don't want make the boat unbalanced! Stop this foolishness!" They didn't heed any of Rory's pleads. Sam stood up, about ready to jump on Bingo, when he did the raft tipped to one side. Soon all the hobbits found themselves sprawled into the water, some drastically whipping their arms and legs, because they didn't know how to swim. Someone had to catch the raft, before it floated away....

[Child of the 7th Age]

For the moment, Bingo could do little but concentrate on the immediate problem at hand. He'd had no intention of getting in a fight with Samuel. His natural inclination was to avoid a fistfight at all costs. Usually, that meant slinking off with his brother to some secluded niche where they could commiserate. But there were no secluded spots on a raft, and Bingo felt he couldn't just sit still, waiting to be bashed over the head.

The water at this point in the river was definitely over their heads. Some of the lads looked to be in trouble. While frantically treading water and trying to decide what to do, Bingo spied an old tree stump that had a few live branches protruding out of it, growing in the middle of the river. It was a good thing he had spent so much time playing near and in the water. Collaring the nearest floundering hobbit, he scooped him up by the collar and swam over to the stump, dragging the lad behind him and shoving his body up onto a low-hanging tree branch. "Wait here!" he bellowed, as he swam off to retrieve one more hobbit who appeared to be having serious troubles.

The current was swift and even Bingo could not fight against it forever. If he had been on his own, he could have made it down to the raft or swum over to the side and scrambled out on the bank. But, relectant to leave the other lads alone, Bingo swam back to the sheltered stump and clung, panting, to its lower branches as he pondered what to do. All the while, their raft was floating further down the river. A few of the other lads had taken off to try and retrieve it. How they were going to get it back against the current, Bingo had no idea. Or maybe they could steer it over to the bank, while he and the other two hobbits in the tree carefully made their way downstream by wading through the muddy waters and reeds that ran near the shore. He looked downstream to see what was happening.

[Firefoot]

Sondo was absolutely furious. How much thought did it take to realize that you couldn’t have a fistfight on a raft? Now, everyone was in the water and the raft with all remaining supplies was floating away. Sondo could hardly be called a good swimmer, but the concept was not unknown to him and he could at least stay afloat without difficulty. With shaky strokes he took off toward the raft after only a moment’s hesitation. Without looking closely he saw that there was another hobbit swimming just behind him, also intent on the raft. Slowly the pair gained on it, and they ended up quite a way down stream before actually catching it. Fortunately, it had tipped but not flipped, and the supplies which had been secured to the raft had not been lost.

Upon catching the raft, Sondo knew that the next step had to be turning it to shore so that they could go back and rescue the other hobbits. Now that he had leisure to look, he saw that the hobbit who had joined him was Reggie.

“Reggie,” he said, “go to the other side of the raft. We need to get up at the same time so it won’t tip.” Sondo was out of breath from the swim but his voice still conveyed a no-nonsense tone. Reggie obeyed without question and the pair was able to simultaneously hoist themselves up onto the raft. Sondo was now thankful that they were about the same size and weight. He looked despairingly back up stream. Though peaceful seeming, the Brandywine’s current was strong, and the hobbits stuck in the river were dwindling.

“Now, we need to get the raft to shore and hurry back to help the others,” instructed Sondo. Reggie was one step ahead and held up the rope which had previously been used to tie the raft to the stream. Reggie had tied a loop in the end so that they could hopefully hook something on shore. He asked, “How about this?” and gave an experimental throw towards shore. The loop caught on a piece of driftwood, but as soon as tension was applied the log snapped.

“Try again,” encouraged Sondo. Reggie tossed the rope, and this time it caught a peculiarly shaped stone sticking up on shore. They held their breaths, and fortunately, the rope held. They swung around to the bank as the rope tightened, and soon they were able to hop onto dry ground. Sondo hurried upstream to unhook the rope from the rock, retrieved it, and sprinted back to where Reggie was holding the raft by the shore. Sondo took the rope, saying, “Go on ahead - see if you can help. I’ll follow soon.” Reggie nodded and hurried off as fast as he could. Sondo deftly tied the rope around a tree so that it ran from tree to mast, suitably securing the raft. He gave a quick tug to make sure the knot would hold and hurried after Reggie. He was already weary from the strenuous swim to catch the raft and his run from raft to rock and back, and now he was slowed by the need to take care not to stumble over a tree root in his fatigue. This was not how adventuring was supposed to go! He was already imagining the things he would say to Sam and Bingo. They had not even left the Shire yet, and already they were having difficulties! He hoped that things would be under control at the scene of the spill. Haste was needed, and so he dug in for a last spurt before finally arriving.

[Kitanna]

Marroc had been sitting on one side of the raft with Rory and Reggie. Rory was talking about he escape from his family. "I told my Ma, I was going, whether she objected to it or not." Rory stated proudly.

Clearly he was exaggerating, but Marroc wasn't going to say anything about it. "So you let all that tea go to waste?" Marroc was not the kind of Hobbit who would let any amount of tea or food to go to waste.

Rory smiled and laughed when Marroc made his comment. He just nodded. It was now Reggie's turn to tell his tale, but a fight seemed to be breaking out on the other side of the raft. Sam was yelling at Bingo for what seemed to be some sort of misunderstanding.

Sondo was trying to break Sam and Bingo up. Rory shouted a warning about tipping the raft, but no one listened. The next thing Marroc knew was that he was bobbing in the water and the raft was floating away.

Panic filled the young Hobbit. He was a terrible swimmer. "Help!" He desperately tried to keep himself afloat. Someone grabbed him by the collar, helping him toward safety.

It was Bingo. He pushed Marroc to a low-hanging branch. Marroc grabbed hold and gasped for air. "Wait here!" He instructed as he swam after another one of the Hobbits. Marroc just clung to the branch for dear life.

Now that he was safe Marroc's thoughts turned to the raft. What would happen to them if it was lost on the river along with all their food?

[Encaitare]

Reggie hurried along the riverbank, scrambling through grasses and mud. He glanced back to see Sondo still holding the raft safe, and scanned his surroundings for any of his companions.

He was angry with that Sam -- not only had he been picking on Bingo, but he had upset their entire raft! If he found that mean hobbit...

A cry broke his thoughts, which was probably for the best. He looked to see Marroc clinging to the branch of a tree, suspended over the water.

"Help!" Marroc called, seeing Reggie on the bank. Reggie wracked his mind but could not think of any way to reach him, hanging above the surface of the water like he was. The call came again, and Reggie began to get scared. What if he couldn't do anything? He began feeling around in his pockets for something that would aid him. Nothing in his front pockets, nothing in his shirt pocket -- aha!

In his back pocket, Reggie's fingers closed around a piece of thin rope. He pulled it out and was dismayed to see that it wasn't particularly long, only a few feet. He thought quickly, and decided that his idea was worth a try.

"Marroc! Get closer to the bank if you can! Move along the branch!"

Marroc looked frightened, and tentatively let one hand go to swing himself a little closer to the trunk.

"That's good, come on," said Reggie, dreading that at any second he would hear a plop, and then Marroc would be out of his aid. But at long last, Marroc was several feet closer.

"The branch is too thick," he called to Reggie. "I can't hold on for much longer..."

"You're going to have to let go," Reggie said, "and then swim towards the bank. Then I'll throw the rope in and you can grab on!" He hoped that Marroc was a decent swimmer...

[Kitanna]

Marroc was clinging for dear life to the branch. Any second he could be swept away. His thoughts went to his family. They would never know. He could die and his family would never know where to look for him. Marroc could not die like that. He had to get to safety.

Reggie was on shore. "Help!" Marroc cried, trying to get Reggie's attention.

The other Hobbit heard Marroc's cry for help and came to his aid. He searched his pockets looking for something, looking for anything that would help him pull Marroc in. Marroc's heart sank when it seemed Reggie had nothing. He was going to have to swim to Reggie.

Reggie pulled a piece of rope from his back pocket. Marroc's spirits rose until he saw just how small the rope was. "Marroc! Get closer to the bank if you can! Move along the branch!"

Marroc started to move slowly along the branch. He let go with his left hand and swung himself close to the trunk. He would not dare let go with both hands. Reggie was on shore shouting encouragement to him. Inch by inch he drew closer to Reggie and the shore, but the closer Marroc got to the trunk the thicker the branch was. He little hands would not be able to hold on much longer.

"The branch is too thick. I can't hold on for much longer..." Marroc dreaded the only solution he could see to this problem. He was going to have to let go and try his luck at swimming.

"You're going to have to let go," Reggie said, confirming Marroc's fear. "and then swim towards the bank. Then I'll throw the rope in and you can grab on!"

Marroc was frozen with fear for a moment. He was no swimmer and the current was so strong. He took a few deep breaths, each time swearing he'd let go and each time failing to do so.

"You can do it, Marroc!" Reggie called. "I won't let you go under."

Marroc stuck in some air and let go of the branch. Marroc went under right away. He kicked furiously and resurfaced. He kept kicking, desperately trying to get within reach of the rope. Reggie cast the rope out and Marroc grabbed hold. Again he went under, but this time Reggie was able to pull him out.

Marroc kicked, Reggie pulled and soon Marroc could feel Reggie pulling him out of the water and onto the shore. He couldn't decide what to do first. Hug Reggie for saving his life or kiss the ground. He grabbed Reggie and gave him the biggest hug he could muster. After letting go he kissed the ground out of joy.

Now that Marroc was safe he had to turn his mind to other things. He had to help Reggie find the other Hobbits and make sure none were hurt.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam didn't understand what in the world had happened. He had gotten up to get some food and now he was in the water. Now he was in the water. He was sure this was all Bingo's fault. His arms swung around as he tried to get back to the raft that was floating down river. Panic and fear clutched his heart as realizations that he was about to die here in the Shire in the river, alone..... He swung his arms even faster in fear.

Memories of his life flashed before his eyes as the water poured into his mouth. He could hear gurgled screams coming from somewhere nearby, but his head wasn't thinking about the fact that it was him who was screaming. Memories of how he had treated his parents, the food he had last eaten, the fight with Bingo, the stupid raft he had agreed to even set foot on, his last steps out his house door, the night with that beautiful hobbit girl... Esmerald. His memories swam swiftly, almost exactly like the river, through his mind as the thought that this was the end full took him.

Sam knew that he did not want to die, that he was far too young to succumb to death. Furthermore, he understood that what he wanted wasn't necessarily what he was going to be granted in this situation. As his arms tried to swim, he felt his feet getting further towards the bottom of the river. His head bobbed up and down. He barely had enough time to breath in between the breaks of water and air. As he was pulled farther down the river a thought struck him, his last thoughts were these and these breaths his last. Never again would he see the green, lush fields of the Shire. Never again would he eat his mother's wonderful food. Never again would he be a young hobbit.

As he floated down the river, he silently prayed a promise to be a better hobbit if someone just saved his life.

[Nurumaiel]

When the raft had tipped Falco had been fortunate enough to be swept immediately to shore. He retained his calm and reason very well, and hurried downstream to be of better assistance to those who were still floating along down.

Falco watched Sam struggling in the water, and he considered that their adventure was not coming off to a very good start. Sam was such a grumpy, disagreeable boy, anyway. But, of course, they couldn't just leave him to drown, even if he was unpleasant. Falco touched one toe in the water. He was wet anyway. Why not? He went a little further in. He must be careful not to be swept away. It never occurred to him that he was doing something rather dangerous, as he didn't know how to swim. What did he care for danger?

He was almost up to his waist now, but fortunately the river was flowing very fast, and he was not swept off. And what of it if he did? It would be an adventure, at the least. He looked upstream. Sam was floating down, flailing his arms helplessly. Falco waded on more step, and put out his hand. "Grab my hand, Sammy!" he called. "And try paddling more towards me, if you can."

Honestly, things hadn't started out well at all. With Sondo as leader, perhaps that could be expected. They'd have mutiny now for sure. No doubt the boys would all be frightened after their escapade and want to go back. And if they went back he, Falco, would be in dreadful trouble for running away. That wasn't right. What if things kept going like this under Sondo's leadership? He would have to speak with him.

But first he had to take care of Sam.

[Crystal Heart]

Salvation appeared to Sam in the form of Falco. He tried to swim as hard as he can and reached out, just barely touching Falco's fingers before being swept away. He pushed through the current, his will for living life becoming stronger. He swam as hard as he could before he finally reached Falco and his hand.

Falco pulled him to where Sam could feel the slightly rocky river bed beneath his feet. He coughed up the water that had proceeded to find a way into his lungs. Falco helped him up onto the shore. Sam fell to a sitting position, his hands upon his head.

The knowledge that he would be able to live yet another day was a reassuring one to say the least. As he gasped and tried to regain some sort of normal breathing pattern he thought about what could have happened. He also thought about how wrong he was for blowing the poking situation out of proportion.

"Thank you, Falco for saving my life. I owe you one," Sam said once he had caught his breath. Falco flashed him a smile. Sam got up shakily and wandered over to Bingo and the others to see if he could help.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Things seemed to be settling down a bit. His brother had assisted Marroc in climbing down from the tree and finding his way back to the shore. Falco had also lent a helping hand to Sam, and, possibly for the first time in his life, the young hobbit lad had seemed genuinely grateful. The last to be rescued had been Rory. The young lad had been half drowned, until Bingo had managed to drag him over to the tree stump, and others had come to guide him to the shore. A short distance down the river, Bingo could see that Sondo had caught up with the raft and was trying to push it to the side, out of the way of the strongest current.

Bingo slipped off the tree branch and swam over to the weeds and muds that lined the edge of the shore. The water here was no more than a foot deep. Since this stretch of bank appeared to be both slippery and steep as well as thoroughly riddled with large tree roots, he decided to wade downriver in the shallows, while keeping a close eye for unfriendly snakes. Fortunately, there were no more unpleasant incidents, and, within a short while, he had made it back to the raft where Sondo was waiting.

"Is everyone here?," Bingo queried nervously. "Are the lads alright? Do you think we should unload some of the supplies on shore, and make sure they're not soaked or damaged?" He looked over at Sondo, awaiting his response. But before Sondo could open his mouth, he felt another hand tapping him on the shoulder.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam ventured over to Bingo and placed a hand upon the lad's shoulder.

"Bingo, I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have done that. I owe everyone here an apology. It was all my fault that the raft tipped as it did. We are all fortunate that no one died here, but that does not condone my actions. Again, I apologize to all of you for what I have done," Sam apologized, his head hanging in shame. For the first time in his whole small hobbit life he actually felt regret for what he had done. If Sam didn't know any better his entire outlook on life was changing, but he wasn't about to admit that to anyone no matter what.

Something was stirring in the young hobbit's heart. Something of caring and more kinder qualities. His mother had always told him that he was born with a heart so small that not even it could withstand the love and kindness it was suppose to posses. Sam had agreed and had believed that up until this day. Until this moment he had not really thought about what his life could be like.

Mentally, he shook his thoughts away and silently prayed that his companions in this journey would actually forgive him and that this adventure that he so desperately needed would begin without any further incidents.

[Child of the 7th Age]

For a moment Bingo stood silent, his eyes opening wider by the moment and his jaw hanging open. He was so surprized that he was completely unable to say anything. This was the last thing he had suspected. He'd assumed that Sam would blame him for their scuffle as well as for the overturning of the raft. Bingo was used to backing down when the sons of wealthy landowners came to him complaining about this little thing or that. He put up with their jibes, good natured and otherwise, and politely pulled at the bill of his cap to show his respect. What else could he do when he didn't have a Da or Ma to stand up and protect him?

The one thing he hadn't considered was that the young lad would apologize and extend a hand in friendship. Recovering his wits as quickly as he could, Bingo turned towards Sam and spoke, "Not a problem. Of course, I forgive you. There's nothing to forgive.....just a tussle and a misunderstanding. I'll try to be more careful with my own elbows and feet." He looked down at his own gangley arms. "I expect both of us owe an apology to Sando as well."

With that, Bingo looked over to Sando, "Is everyone alright? Even Rory?" He had been worried about Rory ever since he'd pulled him up from under the water. The lad's face had looked so pale, a sickly shade of greenish-blue, and he had been coughing and gagging.

[Boromir88]

Rory stirred from his rest. He woke up with a gasp, first not knowing where he was. He remembered the argument, the boat tipping, but his last memories were getting mouthfuls of water, and then going underneath....his mind was blank of what happened after. He sat up, and saw all the hobbits staring at him, and with a sigh of relief on all their faces. His clothes were soaked, and his pouch filled with throwing stones were gone.

"Anyone happen to grab my sack of rocks?" Rory asked.

The Hobbits chuckled, they found it hard that Rory had just been through a traumatic experience, which if it wasn't for Bingo he probably would have died, and the first thing that hops into Rory's mind were his rocks.

There was a long, uneasy silence, that Sam broke. He was apologizing, and asking everyone for forgiveness. Rory piped up, "Cheer up Sam, no one's blaming you. It's not like that raft was a finely made Elven boat, it was bound to tip with any slight movement." Some of the hobbits glared at Rory, especially Sondo, who took pride in building the raft. Whatever the thoughts, the hobbits were relieved that Rory was his normal self.

[Firefoot]

Sondo was having difficulty getting a word in edgewise, which was perhaps a good thing because it had given him time to cool off. Quite honestly, he had not thought that Sam had it in him to apologize, though Bingo was mellow enough. He was, however, still extremely annoyed at how his adventure had started off, especially when the now-awakened Rory insulted his raft. Never mind that most of those present had helped build it - Sondo was quite protective, and glared at Rory accordingly.

He cleared his throat, and everyone turned their attention to him. “Yes, it would appear that everyone is fine,” he said in answer to Bingo’s earlier question. “But we can’t have something like this happen again. Any supplies that weren’t lashed down, which is basically everything anyone brought along today, were lost.” Here there were some sighs or disappointed groans. “We need to work together in this.” Everyone nodded their agreement, whether because they actually agreed or just didn’t want to argue, Sondo didn’t know. Sam and Bingo both looked properly penitent. “As for the raft,” continued Sondo with a withering glance at Rory, “just about any boat is going to tip if you want to tussle on it.”

Feeling better now that the situation was firmly under his control again, Sondo grinned. All had been forgiven, for now, and he was eager to get going again. “At least no serious damage was done. If we can get through this, we’ll just be even more prepared if anything else happens along the way. After all, what fun would an adventure be if nothing happened? Come on, the raft’s only a little ways downstream!” Sondo struck off toward the raft, and the lads all followed along, their high spirits generally restored. Most talked merrily as they walked, sometimes laughing. Sondo caught Falco frowning, as if he had something on his mind. Sondo made a note to maybe ask about it later, but now they had reached and found the raft thankfully still tied securely to the shore.

“So are we going to make sure our supplies are undamaged?” piped up Marroc, recalling Bingo’s idea. Sondo nodded, “Yeah, I think we should. Some stuff might have gotten moved around, and it wouldn’t be any good for all the food to get crushed.”

Deftly the hobbits untied the simple knots tying the oilcloth to the raft and pulled it away. Then they stopped - some scowled, and some gaped, but Sondo was the picture of shocked anger. Sondo forgot about everything else for the moment, for underneath the oilcloth, an all too familiar stow-away had been hiding. She was his sister, and she would ruin everything.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded harshly.

[Primrose Bolger]

Previous to the misadventure . . .

‘Boys are so stupid!,’ she thought to herself, chuckling quietly. ‘Even my brother!’ Sassy caught herself just as she was about to let out a small whoop over her observation. ‘Quiet, Sass,’ she reminded herself. ‘Don’t let them know you’re here.’ She hunkered down behind a thick bush watching the boys. Piled neatly on the raft was a little pile of blankets, and several small sacks of apples, taters, and little carrots and a number of tools and other things . . . all taken from the Brandybuck cellar. She knew, because she’d seen her brother and one or two of his companions sneaking them away and followed them, sliding along behind trees and running as quickly as her little feet would carry her from the shelter of one shrub or rock to another. She watched them cover the pile carefully with a large piece of oilcloth, then, later, tie it down securely to the raft with rope.

When the boys had gone, off to gather their own packs for the next day’s trip, she snuck down to the shore where the raft was tied and looked about it. For the most part the oilcloth over the mound of supplies was secured well. But being a determined eleven year old girl and one of small stature, she found a little space where two ropes crossed, leaving just enough room to pull up a corner of the cloth and wriggle beneath it. ‘This is it!’ she whispered to herself as she gave it a try and pulled the flapping corner in behind her, tucking it in neatly so that it wouldn’t be noticed. ‘This is my chance to go with him this time!’ She shivered a bit in the darkness beneath the oilcloth, but shrugged it off. She wasn’t scared . . . no, all she needed was her little cloak to pull over her and she would be fine. It was Spring after all, and sometimes Spring was a little chilly, she reassured herself.

Early next morning, before breakfast had even begun, she crept out of the Hall. Her little pack was stuffed with items she thought she might need. None of which were clothes. Fishing line borowed from her uncle’s creel with a few hooks and a number of fat, stubby candles from the kitchen, a shaker of salt, too, and a small pot of honey. Oat and currant cookies from the pantry wrapped in clean napkins, her Da’s filleting knife in its leather sheath, and a rather large ball of twine. A small, sharp hatchet meant for the woodpile, for kindling. And in one side pocket were stuffed two little rope snares for coneys or squirrels and in the other her tin mug and a spoon.

The sun had not yet burnt off the little fog that gathers along the river in the morning, so it was quite easy to slip down to the raft and hide in the little space she’d made for herself. She’d been quite tired, having stayed up most of the night to pack her needed things. It was warm under the oilcloth once she’d drawn her cloak up over her and resting her head on one of the little folded blankets, she fell asleep in spite of herself, the rocking of the raft on the river current in the little inlet lulling her.

-o-o-o-

She’d woken when the fight began. First were the loud words and then what she imagined were pushes and blows as the raft rocked and tipped. She heard the sounds of the others as they splashed into the water. She would have gone into the water herself, save for the fact her little space was well secured by rope. The cries of the Hobbits faded as the raft moved down the river, and Sassy had just peeked out from under the oilcloth, seeing if she should try to help maneuver the raft. There was no one aboard but her! She ducked her head back into the supposed safety of her little burrow and thought furiously about what she should do. Fortune smiled on her and she heard the voices of her brother and one other . . . Reggie, she thought by the sound of the voice.

Sassy realized she had been holding her breath as they tried their plan to rope something on the bank. And she almost cried out as she heard the first anchoring log snap. But somehow the raft was brought into shore and she heard Sondo talking as he tied it to a tree, telling Reggie to go on ahead; he would follow after.

Carefully easing her way back into back of her little hidey-hole, Sassy lay down, resting her head on the crook of her arm. She got her ragged breathing under control and thought about what she should do. Stay hidden or go out and wait for her brother and the others. She decided to think on it a little more and she was still not done with her thinking when she heard the gathering voices of the boys . . .

-o-o-o-

The stowaway . . .

‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded harshly.

Sassy stood up and looked her brother square in the eye, or almost in the eye, that is. She had stepped up onto one of the folded blankets, affording her a few more inches of height. In one hand was a cookie she’d been munching on to ‘help her think’, and in the other was a half-eaten apple from one of the sacks because, well, she liked the taste of them both together. In a decisive moment she jammed the remainder of her snacks into her pockets and planted her hands on her hips.

‘Don’t you talk to me like that, Mister Sondo-I’m-so-smart-I-can-sneak-away-without-anyone-knowing! Ha! I’ve been on to what you been doing and planning all along.’ She tilted her head up at him, and narrowed her eyes, giving the appearance she was considering him from a great height. ‘I’m going with you!’ she declared. Sassy looked up the river to where they’d started. ‘It’s too far now to send me back without you taking me.’ As he appeared to be considering just that option, Sassy cut off his response with a threat. ‘You do that and Da will skin you alive. Especially when his poor little girl comes in all dirty and bruised and maybe even bleeding and for sure, crying.’

She pushed a stray curl back from her face and looked round the circle of boys. ‘Uh huh - I’m coming with you.’ She bent down and fished around in her pack, pulling out a napkin filled with big cookies. ‘Anyone else want one? There’s enough for all of you?’ she said smiling sweetly at the cluster of lads.

As the boys were passing the cookies about, Sassy sidled over to where Sondo stood. She stood next to him as he looked about at his companions. With a quick move, she pinched him hard on the back of his arm as she smiled and handed him a cookie. ‘And don’t you ever talk to me like that again, or I’ll tell Da you dragged me along on this adventure,’ she whispered

[Encaitare]

Reggie took a cookie and began munching on it, shivering in his wet clothes. Oh, how he envied Sassy, standing there assertively, and also decidedly dry.

He wanted to feel empathy for her, he really did. After all, he was never included in the original plan either. But a little sister? He didn't have any of his own, but most of his girl cousins were always an annoyance. The younger ones were always running amok through Brandy Hall, acting as though they owned the place and bugging he, Bingo, and their friends. And the older ones were even worse; they were all superiority and smugness, calling them naughty boys when all they were really doing was something like trying to sneak mushrooms from the kitchen or getting mud all over the parlor. Yes, girls certainly were bothersome.

But still... he had been in the same position as Sassy just a short time before, although he hadn't been met with as much resentment from Bingo as Sassy appeared to be getting from Sondo.

Ugh. If anything could be said for girls, it was that they caused nothing but trouble, and a sideways glance at Bingo, who was shaking his head disgustedly, told Reggie that his brother certainly agreed.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo exchanged a meaningful glance with his brother and then moved quietly off to the side. He said nothing aloud, but only stared stubbornly at his toes with a blank expression masking the real feelings that lay underneath.

Confound it all! he ruefully mused. What kind of an adventure was this? First, he had been dumped in the water, and now there was a girl threatening to come along with them! As far as Bingo was concerned, the addition of a girl could only bring trouble. What if their journey involved danger and excitement? This Sassy character would probably sit back to wimper and complain while cowering in the corner and insisting that the older lads protect her.

Bingo had always avoided meeting the younger sisters of his friends, and Sassy was no exception. The few experiences he'd had with lasses had not been good. They had giggled at him for being shy and awkward, or even because his neatly mended clothes weren't up to the standards they had set. One of his eleven-year-old cousins had insisted that Bingo do all her errands and chores since she was too busy with other important things. As he and his brother were dependent on the charity of her parents, Bingo had grudgingly complied with all these requests, even the most outrageous and nonsensical. From what he could tell, this Sassy had a sharp tongue about her and would probably threaten to complain to Master Saradoc about Reggie and himself in the same rude way that she had browbeaten her own brother.

All the other lads had taken a cookie, but Bingo kept his hand deep within his pocket refusing to be swayed by the girl's all too obvious attempt at bribery. He walked over at Sondo and grudgingly assented, "If she's coming with us, let's go. Can't we all get back on the raft and start sailing again? I'm tired of sitting around and doing nothing. We'd best get going, or the day will run out before we find a good place to camp and cook our supper."

Bingo stepped back on the raft and curled himself up in a small ball at the very edge; he hoped that Sassy would find another place to sit. Bingo's stomach was growling loudly. He had missed second breakfast, but he wasn't about to suggest a stop for lunch. He only wanted to leave this place and hope that better things awaited them further down the river.

[Kitanna]

Marroc could handle being knocked off the raft. He could handle being soaking wet. He could probably even handle meeting unpleasant folk on this adventure, but he couldn't handle Sassy coming along. He had sisters of his own who annoyed him. Now someone else's sister was here to bother the hobbit lads.

All the others were grumbling and complaining. Reggie seemed to be the only one who had any sort of sympathy for Sassy. Marroc was about to go retreat and ignore Sassy's existance when the cookies appeared. "There's enough for all of you." She said holding out a plate of cookies.

Marroc moved closer to Sassy and took a cookie. Marroc was changing his opnion of Sassy already. Could someone who offered them cookies be all that bad? "Thank you, Sassy."

Marroc continued to munch, thinking maybe this wasn't so bad after all. It was not like the raft couldn't support. She was small and light. But then again what if she was a whiner like Marroc's sisters. They'd all just have to wait and see.

[Firefoot]

Sondo felt a burning desire to slap his sister. She was right, of course; he could not send her home - yet. They were just close enough that a party of hobbits would be able to ride out after them and bring them home before the adventure really got started. He was stuck with her. He would not, however, let her boss him around like she just had. He was older, stronger, and smarter, and on top of it all, she was a girl!

Before he had time to tell her off, Bingo came around and reminded him that they needed to be moving on. Sondo agreed; they had wasted a lot of time already. They needed to be far away by sunset. He began issuing directions: “Someone tie the oilcloth down again - we need to start sailing again. But leave the blankets out, so everyone can get dry and warmed up. Then everyone get on board the raft - I’ll be there soon.” He realized that he was quite chilly, now that he had stopped moving around. The day was warm, but not warm enough for a swim and wet clothes.

He turned his attention back to Sassy, who had begun to move triumphantly toward the raft. “Come here,” he instructed. She looked at him, and then very deliberately turned around to face him, as if it were solely by her decision that she listened at all. Sondo gritted his teeth, and when she was close enough he grabbed a small handful of her hair and held tightly. “You listen to me, you little brat,” he hissed. “First of all, I am the leader of this expedition, not you. I did not invite you along, nor do I want you here at all, but since you have decided to come along you are now under my leadership since I am the leader here. You will come with us for a while, because we are too close to home. Yes, too close - you can be home probably before tomorrow morning, and then you will send hobbits after us. But know that I will have no qualms about leaving you somewhere up ahead if you cause trouble. Then where will you be? You won’t be telling Da anything, then. When we get back and he asks where you are, I will say that you weren’t with us, or if you were you must have been hiding and were lost with all of our supplies when the raft tipped on the first day out. Got that? You are in no position of power over me or any of the other lads here, and being my sister will afford you no special favors. I won’t be taking any sass from you. Now, come on.” He released her with a shove and strode briskly toward the raft, stopping only to untie the rope lashing the raft to the shore. In this time Sassy boarded the raft.

Sondo shoved the raft off into the river, and they were once more sailing the Brandywine. He was in a foul mood, and after picking up a blanket for warmth he selected a corner of the raft and plunked down, dangling his legs in the water and gazing with unseeing eyes back upstream. For the moment, the others left him alone with his thoughts.

It was not that he hated his sister. Usually he was rather indifferent to her, except when she tried to tag along with him, in which case he sent her home without fail. He supposed it was this rejection that had led her to stowaway, and this did not put him in a better mood. Why now? Why did she insist on trying to go along with him all the time? Weren’t there any nice hobbit lasses her own age to play with? Aptly named little spitfire, he thought, as if it were a curse. Why wasn’t she docile like all the other lasses who played with dolls? Too bad she hadn’t been born a boy. She wasn’t usually this bad, and he didn’t even really mean it about leaving her someplace; he had mostly just needed some grounds with which to hold some power over her, and he wasn’t even sure she believed him anyway. Not that he was any less mad at her. Did she want to make him miserable and annoyed at her? Perhaps. He stared broodingly at the passing shores and wondered why his adventure was not like the ones in stories. Those heroes did not have to worry about tag-along little sisters. Then he vowed that she would not ruin his adventure. Would not. As far as it was in his power, he would even ignore her.

With false cheer, he got up to join some other hobbits in conversation.

[Nurumaiel]

As Sondo moved to join the others, Falco stepped in his way and gestured for him to sit down. Falco sat down as well, and he was silent for a few moments. Every so often he would glance at Sondo, or at Sassy, or down at the water. At last he spoke, slowly and quietly, but with a very clear ring of annoyance in his voice.

"Look here, Sondo, I thought this was a good idea to start with," he said, "and I still think it has some promise. But you can't deny that things haven't come off to a wonderful start. Mind you, I'm not questioning your leadership, but I am saying that there are some things that should, and need to, be improved." He glanced over his shoulder at the other boys. "First, you need to get a better hold on the other boys. The raft tipping wasn't a good thing, as I'm sure I don't need to tell you. You really need to sharpen up, Sondo."

Falco realised, of course, that it was not Sondo's fault that the raft had tipped, but he had a vague idea that the leader was responsible for all under his command, and what was laid to blame upon them should also be laid to blame upon the leader. Anyway, Sondo had to be told that the adventure wasn't starting well. Falco did not break it gently, but told it exactly as he saw it. Sondo appeared annoyed and perhaps slightly angry, but he was too used to Falco's manner of suggesting improvement and giving advice to fly into a great rage.

"The raft was bad enough," said Falco. "Everyone was scared ('Except me,' he thought). Sam thanked me very humbly when I fished him out. If that's not a sure signal that they were scared, nothing is. Besides losing morale and running the risk of mutiny - " whereupon Falco drew himself up a little with pride for using such exceptional words " - we've also lost some supples ('I think,' he added to himself... he wasn't sure if they had our not... he hadn't exactly been paying attention). But I was willing to put up with that because we're not a bad set of boys and I think we can re-coop-i-ate well and trudge on. But this business about your little sister is going much too far."

"I spoke to her," said Sondo, through slightly tight lips. "She won't cause any trouble if she knows what's good for her."

"I don't care if she causes trouble or not! Her mere presence is trouble. Do you think she's going to keep quiet when Sammy starts saying sharp and grumpy things? Eh? Mind you, I'm not trying to insult your sister. I think she's a fine little girl in her place... but this isn't her place."

"I can't send her back," said Sondo. "Unless you want to be caught... and whipped..."

Falco pondered over this for a moment. "Very well," he conceded. "I suppose we can't send her back. But things have come off to a bad start, Sondo. Really they have."

"Do you think I'm not capable of being leader?"

"No, no, I wouldn't say that," said Falco, after some hesitation. "You're capable of it. But, like I said before, you need to sharpen up. And you need to keep an eye on that sister of yours." He paused for a moment, and then smiled in a comradely way. "I'm not trying to stir up trouble," he said, "and I'm not thinking of mutiny myself. I just wanted to give you a little advice... before the other boys started giving their opinions by deserting and... and... mutiny-ing."

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy swatted at one, or most probably more, of the little gnats that hung in clouds along the riverbank this time of day. They were buzzing near her ear, threatening to chew on the tender parts. And really the sound of them was becoming more annoying than the buzz and hum of Sondo’s words as he scolded her. She hadn’t really been listening to Sondo as he talked. In fact, she had tuned him out as soon as he started his declaration. ‘First of all, I am the leader of this expedition . . .,’ he had begun. ‘Well of course you are,’ she thought to herself, squinting up at him in the sunlight. ‘You’re Sondo. You’re always the leader.’

She kept her attentive face on as he went on. It was a well practiced face, used mostly for times when her Ma or Aunty or one of the twins felt it was time to ‘take the young lass in hand’ for something. She opened her eyes wide and looked toward the person speaking, a look of sincere attention on her face. Then she’d let her mind wander, being careful to keep one ear tuned to the scolder’s voice. This time she was looking at the pools and eddies that lay along the river’s bank, thinking about what her Gammer had taught her about fishing. The gnats were hatching and she could just see where fish were rising to the surface to feed.

‘. . . and being my sister will afford you no special favors. I won’t be taking any sass from you. Now, come on.’ She caught the change in the pattern of his speech and brought her attention fully back to him. He’d shoved her a little, toward the boat, and she trotted aboard eagerly, glad that he was done talking. She was on the raft, out in the open, with the others! A part of the adventure!

The others on board seemed to ignore her, for the most part. But she was used to that, that’s how it was at home, too. Though . . . she looked slyly at two of the younger boys, Reggie and Marroc. They weren’t exactly overly friendly, but at least they weren’t grumbling about ‘girl’ and ‘little sister’. Maybe she could be pals with them. She looked toward her brother who seemed to be cornered by that Falco fellow. He looked sneaky, Falco did, to her. And some of the things he was saying sounded pretty darned whiney, though truth be told she couldn’t hear all his words. Sondo had that set look on his face. ‘Not gonna get anything by MY big brother,’ she muttered smugly, thinking to herself this was one of those people you didn’t want to be around too much. He looked like trouble to her.

With a shrug, she shouldered her pack and walked carefully to one side of the moving raft. The gnats she noted, were less bothersome now that they were on the move. 'Just like Gammer said,' she thought to herself. For a few moments she stood looking at the water. Sassy poked about in her pack, looking to find the fishing line she’d brought. Once found, she measured out several arms length, and taking her little scissors from her vest pocket, she snipped off the length. One of her uncle’s hooks was soon deftly tied on, and a bit of linty apple from her breeches pocket stuck on the sharp point. She plopped herself down on the edge of the raft, tucking her feet beneath her. Reggie’s brother was there, curled in a ball, and she could hear his stomach rumbling quite loudly. Tying her line onto the handle of her spoon, she trailed it out into one of the eddies as they passed near it. No luck with the first one, or the second, but the third cast was luckier, and a plump little trout caught the apple with its hidden hook and was soon pulled aboard, wriggling and slapping against the wooden surface of the raft.

‘Hey!’ cried Sassy, delighted with her catch. ‘Any one fancy some nice crispy fish for supper?’ She looked round with a grin on her face. ‘I’ve more line and hooks if you want to give it a try.’ Sassy cast her little line out again, not really expecting an answer . . .

[Boromir88]

Rory was usually the foolishly optimistic, slightly ridiculous, member of the hobbit lads, but he doesn't understand why Sassy was allowed to join. Just her name spelt trouble. Rory had his own tattling sister, and if Sassy was anything like Mirabella, he was going to have an awful time; he just knew it.

When the cookies got to him, Rory didn't want to attract attention, so he decided to pull one out. He gave it to Reggie, "Here you can have it, I'm not that hungry." somehow Reggie wasn't convinced. He could hear Rory's stomach grumble. Reggie still took the cookie and munched it down.

Rory went and sat down staired into the murky water. Why did he come? He was having no fun, not only that, but he was going to be in serious trouble when he got home. Rory didn't get depressed very often, and when he did, he always got out of it rather quick, but it's hard to be cheerful when everyone around him is moping around, with frowns on their faces. The only ones that were happy, were the ones congradulating Sassy for the cookies, and that only made things worse.

Then when Sassy caught a fish, Rory only grumbled more. Eventhough he didn't know Sassy very well, he kept thinking of his spoiled brat sister, Mirabella, and how much trouble she's gotten him into in the past. He just thought of Sassy as a show off, trying to win all the hobbits' affection. "She isn't gonna win me over, I don't care how many fish she catches." He said, then he thought he might have stated it rather loud, and was afraid some of the hobbits heard him....

[Encaitare]

"She isn't gonna win me over, I don't care how many fish she catches," Reggie heard Rory grumble. Then he fell quite silent, as though worried that everyone else could hear him. It was likely, since few secrets could be kept for long within the confines of a raft. Reggie looked around at his mostly morose friends. Sassy kept on fishing, her cheery words hving fallen dead in the air.

He quietly edged over to where Rory was sitting. The other hobbit glanced up at him, and then let out a small derisive snort. "D'you think the whole raft heard?"

Reggie shrugged. "I don't think they care, anyways." There was a minute of silence, broken only by low grumbling and the sounds of the river. He thought about the situation. If she wanted to be the one to take care of getting food and things, then what was the harm in that? Of course, a few things would have to be set straight with the young girl: there was no way that the older boys would be taking any orders from her.

"If she wants to help us find food, I guess that's a good thing," Reggie said, looking to see the other lad's expression. It remained grim.

"It's nothing but bribery," Rory returned, staring out at the riverbank. Reggie felt momentarily guilty, like the time when he and his cousins disobeyed Aunt Hilda, sneaked into the kitchens, and ate half a cake they found there, only to discover later that it was to be a surprise for a wedding anniversary. His full stomach almost made him feel traitorous. But at least he wasn't going to go hungry...

"I guess it's like in those real adventure stories," Reggie mused. "With the corsairs and their big ships and everything. You know, so far we've capsized, and we've found a stowaway..." From the other side of the raft, Falco's conversation with Sondo drifted over. "deserting and... and... mutiny-ing." Reggie wasn't sure what mutinying was, but he thought he remembered it had something to do with pirates and adventure. "I wonder if we'll be fightin' any pirates next."

[Firefoot]

Even though Falco assured him that it wasn’t, Sondo still couldn’t help but feel slightly threatened. He was becoming increasingly annoyed with Falco’s direct manner, and he had noticed his hesitation before answering the previous question. Did Falco think that he was unaware of the fact that nothing had gone very well yet? None of it was his fault, but he was doing the best he could to correct it, and here was Falco criticizing him! Sondo took a deep breath before responding. Getting mad at Falco would do no good - it may even cause more disunity among the lads.

“I shouldn’t have to worry about that. It’ll get better,” answered Sondo, unable to keep a slight edge out of his voice.

Falco shrugged. “I’m just telling you how I see it.” It was then that Sassy announced her catch, and Sondo directed his vexation her way once more. What was she trying to do, win them all over with food? First the cookies, then the fish? They wouldn’t be able to cook the fish, since they weren’t stopping until night. Enough time had already been wasted ashore. Sondo realized he was hungry, though, and so probably was everyone else. None of them had eaten much since breakfast.

“Let’s go get something to eat - we brought plenty of food,” said Sondo abruptly, ending the conversation. He was pretty sure that it was about over anyway. Falco agreed. Carefully so as not to tip the raft, the pair made their way over to the covered supplies. Sondo untied a corner of the oilcloth, revealing a good store of food.

“Hey, everyone!” said Sondo to get the lads’ attention, though some had already caught on. “Let’s have some lunch.” The prospect of a meal seemed to cheer them all to a greater or lesser extent. Rory especially seemed glad to have food not gotten by a girl. Sondo dug out some bread, cold chicken, and fruit to pass around. Being hungry, most took generous servings, and Sondo fleetingly wondered just how long their food supplies would last - after all, two people had been added to their coterie since stockpiling the supplies, and they were growing hobbits. As quickly as the thought had come, it was gone, and Sondo ceased to worry about it. Mostly the hobbits returned to their previous locations on the raft after receiving some lunch so as to balance the weight.

Sondo took the time to notice several things about the group at this time. The first was that for all her fish and cookies, Sassy had not been above getting some lunch like the rest of them. The second was that though Reggie had not been originally included, he fit in well, and seemed to be forming a friendship with Rory. Sam had remained unusually friendly, a change Sondo hoped would last but doubted it. Last was that Bingo seemed unusually moody since they had set out again. Sondo supposed that if he was to fear mutiny, Bingo might be the one to instigate it. He seemed genuinely unhappy with the adventure thus far, and he was more independent than most of them and generally well-liked, besides having a staunch supporter in Reggie. Sondo supposed that Bingo might even be annoyed with him, what with allowing his brother to come along, and then his own sister showing up. Sondo almost thought that he could sympathize with the other hobbit, though Reggie was decidedly older and a boy besides. He didn’t have nearly the control that Sondo did however.

So the day waned on. Sondo knew of nothing to do to raise the morale except hope that Sassy stayed out of everyone’s way and that a good night’s sleep with full stomachs would cheer everyone. Eventually Sondo had gone over to sit near Bingo for some company. Bingo was the one Sondo felt he was able to relate with most, at the moment.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Sondo had asked, plunking down.

“Go ahead,” Bingo had answered.

“It’ll get better, you know,” said Sondo after a while. “Right now, we’re all sort of getting used to this.”

“I hope so,” said Bingo. After that they hadn’t said a whole lot. It wasn’t really the uncomfortable sort of silence, though; simply neither of them had much to say to the other. Suppertime came, but due to the late lunch and lack of activity afterward no one had said anything about being hungry. The sun cast long shadows stretching eastward, and golden light glinted off the river, flickering with the current. It was ironic that the day which had started so poorly would end in such a dazzling show of light. It’s pretty, really, thought Sondo, but he didn’t realize that he had spoken aloud until Bingo responded softly, “Yeah.”

Sondo realized that it would be too dark to sail soon, and figured he had better start looking for a place to stop for the night and cook dinner. With a word of explanation to Bingo he got up and gathered up a rope to bring them to shore. He called to Reggie who was still chatting with Rory and now Marroc, “Reggie, you were able to catch a tree earlier today - do you think you could do that again now?” Then more generally, “Everyone else, start gathering up what we’ll need for the night - we’re stopping.” Reggie acquiesced, and Sondo soon found a promising spot on the eastern shore. Reggie cast the rope out and it caught, bringing the raft to shore without mishap. The hobbits all seemed glad to see the end of the day, and with more enthusiasm than they had had since before the raft tipped, they set up camp. It had been a long day, and Sondo dearly hoped that his adventure would pick up after the rocky start.

[Primrose Bolger]

As good as the bread and chicken looked and smelled, Sassy passed them up. She was not immune to the barely concealed disgust with which most of the others viewed her, and she figured that eating their food would simply make them all the madder. She did take an apple, for they seemed to have plenty of those.

The others gathered together in their little groups, and offered no invitation to sit with them. Oh, well . . . she said to herself, shrugging it off. I’m the odd Hobbit out as Gammer Brandybuck would say. She gathered her pack and moved as far away as the surface of the raft would allow. She hung her legs over the side of the raft, just far enough to let the water riffle against her feet. There were still a few cookies left in her pack, so she fished one out and ate it with her apple. Stashed in the side of one of the front pack pockets was a packet of dried, smoked coney strips, the sort her uncle took with him when he was venturing far upstream to fish and wouldn’t be home til next morning. She took out a whole one, then thinking better of it, broke it in two. Who knew how long this trip would be.

Light played prettily across the water as the sun headed off for bed. Sassy fixed the picture in her mind, intending to share it with her Gammer once she’d got back. With the encroaching darkness, the air grew a little chilly, and Sassy pulled her little wool cloak about her shoulders fastening it securely beneath her chin. Pulling her knees up to her chin, she clasped her arms about her legs and watched the banks of the river with their rushy edges and stands of cattails slide by. Here and there a duck paddled along, leaving a wide ‘V’ of water in its wake. And once, in a marshy little inlet pushed in against a bend in the channel, a heron poked along among the rushes in the muddy flat, looking to spear a tasty fat frog.

When it was almost dark, Sondo called for Reggie to cast out a rope and hook a tree. The throw was successful and soon the raft was brought up onto the river’s bank for the night. Sassy stood to the side as the others hauled their needed supplies off to a little campsite they’d picked. She trailed along, half hoping that someone would ask her to join in, but knowing they wouldn’t. She fetched her little fish from the stringer in the water, plucking a few stalks of the tall cattails as she did.

Sassy found a dry, cozy spot near the boys’ camp. At the base of a wide old willow. She spread leaned her pack against the trunk then looked about in the failing light for what she needed. There were plenty of small twigs and branches lying about, and she gathered them into a small depression she dug out in the soil a short ways away from the tree’s trunk. Fetching her flint from her pack, she got a little fire going. She didn’t need much, just enough to cook the fat trout she’d caught earlier. She gutted it carefully making sure not to slice her own fingers with the sharp knife, then spitted it like her uncle had showed her and cooked it over the fire. It was her Gammer who’d told her about the cattails – peel the stems and salt them a little and they tasted just like fresh, sweet cucumbers from her Ma’s garden. She picked every bit of the tasty meat from the fish once it was done, licking her fingers as the juice ran down them. A mug of cold water dipped from the river washed the feast down. And with another, she splashed her hands to clean them.

Her little fire had nearly burned down to ash by the time darkness fell fully. Sassy covered it with dirt to put it out, then sat listening under the cover of night to the sounds from the boys’ camp. ‘I wonder what they had for dinner?’ she thought sleepily, snuggling down after a bit near the willow’s trunk, her head resting on a low root and the rest of her wrapped warmly in her little cloak. It had been a long day and soon sleep found her, sending dreams of grand adventures to come dancing beneath her closed eyes.

[Boromir88]

Rory perked up at the sound of food. It's amazing how much merrier Rory is on a full stomach. Once you are full, you don't remember ever being hungry. Chicken, apples, bread...now all we'll need are a few good pints and we'll have a meal fit for a king, Rory thought. Ok, maybe there will be no pints on the journey, but atleast there's good food.

Most of the hobbits were in their cheerful conversations. Rory, Marroc, and Reggie were telling stories of when they got in trouble, since those were the best. "I told my younger brother, Madoc, that Mirabella had taken his mushrooms. He threw his tea on her." Reggie and Marroc began to laugh, "It was the funniest thing I've done in a while." Somehow, above all the other conversations, Sassy heard what Rory did to his sister, and thought how low and wicked it was, but let it go. Then Reggie began to tell how he took all the Sackville-Bagginses' spoons, "And to this day I don't think they've gotten them back." Rory said he would have never thought of that and Marroc chimed up, "Good I don't like them Sackville-Bagginses."

Then Reggie was summoned to pull in the raft, since it was getting dark, and it would be tough to see soon. All the hobbits enthusiastically nodded their heads, agreeing it was time to call it a night, they didn't want to have anymore setbacks today.

All the hobbits were safely pulled ashore. They began to discuss what would they do tomorrow, while all chowing down on more chicken. The hobbits got tired after their supper, and decided to call it a night. Sassy was off by herself, eating her fish. Despite all the problems today, Rory was full, and enjoyed his conversation with Reggie and Marroc. Today was a good day, Rory thought to himself, and tomorrow will only be better.

[Firefoot]

Sondo awoke at dawn in high spirits. It was a beautiful day - the sun was shining in a cloudless sky. A touch of dew lay over everything and the birds were singing in the trees. This was his adventure, his dream, so why should he feel down-trodden about it? Even Sassy could not dampen his mood, partially because he was simply ignoring her presence in as many ways as possible. The other hobbits were in various stages of wakefulness, but he was the first to get up and start moving around. He was soon joined by others, who helped him build up the fire and start roasting some meat for breakfast. Those who still were not up were soon drawn to the fire by the scent of food. It wasn’t exactly an ideal breakfast, being that they had no eggs or bacon or muffins or any of the other traditional breakfast foods, but all in all it tasted fine.

As leader, Sondo’s cheery mood was mirrored in the other hobbits, who generally seemed encouraged by the new day anyway. The morning activities of eating and reloading supplies were spent in light banter and conversation. Sassy stayed largely on the periphery, suiting Sondo fine. In fact, he hoped she felt a little left out, as payment for forcing herself on them like this. He was soon distracted from her by a question concerning the arrangement of supplies on the raft, and paid her no more heed.

Soon, they were ready to sail again. They performed a quick check to make sure nothing was being left behind and put out the cooking fire before loading onto the raft again. He felt that it was his duty to keep the morale high, since it would make for a more enjoyable day as well as safeguard against mutiny (the thought of which scared him a good deal more than he would admit, even to himself). So as soon as the raft was underway, he spoke up.

“Fellow adventurers! We got off to a rough start yesterday, but this day and all following will be better. Soon, we will be entering into lands completely strange to us, and then will our adventure truly begin. If we want, we may even go all the way to the Sea! Few hobbits have ever seen the Sea, and even fewer have come home to tell of it. We could be heroes!” He wasn’t sure where that part about the Sea had come from, but it sounded good. He did not really understand just how far away that was, having only seen brief glimpses of maps outside the Shire, but it sounded good, and most of the hobbits seemed to be buying it. He continued, “And it all starts here. In only a few days we can start making trips away from the raft rather than sailing farther downstream for a day and seeing what we can. After all, that’s what adventures are for!” He really did not know where his adventure was going. It seemed that most of the heroes in stories had some kind of quest, like Old Mad Baggins, or Isengrim the Mariner. He did not have a purpose, but perhaps one would present itself along the way.

His speech was met with general approval, especially from the hobbits who were characteristically more optimistic. Oh, but it was a glorious day for adventuring!

[Child of the 7th Age]

Sondo's predictions were happily true. The sun shone bright over the voyagers as they made their way forward. The current was brisk but not too strong as it carried the raft steadily down river. Two times, the boat came up against a pile of jagged grey boulders appearing out of nowhere in the middle of their path. But Sondo gave instructions to the lads and, working together, they were able to use their makeshift poles crafted from the branches of trees to push off from the rocks before any damage was done and resume their journey. By late morning their progress had been so good that Sondo had agreed they should put into shore and take a moment for a bite to eat.

After they'd steered the raft to the side, the lads and Sassy scrambled out and sprinted up the bank, continuing to run up the grassy knoll that stood close by. This gave them an excellent vantage from which to view the Baranduin as well as the surrounding countryside. Bingo turned around, with his back facing the river, staring eastward. The land that they had come through was a vast expanse of forest; ahead the terrain looked less wooded, with more rolling hills. On the other side of the river, just barely visible, was a stretch of land veering westward that looked to be a marsh.

Bingo wondered what would happen when they came to the edge of the lands where hobbits dwelled, if they ever got that far. Would there be a bright line on the earth, with hobbits lined up on one side and big folk on the other? He didn't really think so, but it made him uneasy to consider going into territory where there were vast number of Men roaming. Like many Bucklanders, he had been to Bree once in his life, but had felt a bit uncomfortable and was glad to head home again.

His brother Reggie seemed to be settling in easily on the trip, The young lad had chatted comfortably with Rory and Marroc, and only occasionally looked back at his older brother for a steadying grin or reassurance. Bingo's earlier fears that his brother would turn out to be a millstone around his neck were not proving to be the case. For the most part, Bingo was left on his own and could do as he pleased.

He could not help noticing that Sassy had sat by herself for most of the morning, quietly keeping to the edge of the raft. Bingo truly did not like girls and preferred to keep a distance, but he had enough gentleness in his heart to feel uncomfortable at the thought of anyone sitting off by themselves without a friend in sight. There had been too many times that he had been in the same situation. He could see that she had finished her lunch. The other hobbits were still up on the bank eating. Bingo quickly shoved the last morsel of bread and cheese into his mouth, and went to pick up a netting and two pair of heavy gloves that he'd found in the supplies. Walking down to the water, he stopped for an instant beside Sassy and casually mentioned, "I'm going down by the water to try and catch a turtle so we can cook a batch of soup later tonight. I saw a drove of them hiding in the reeds and dozing. Don't know if you want to help, but you're welcome to come."

With that, he nonchalantly tossed down a pair of gloves, mentioning that the turtles were snappers and it was best to be careful. He walked purposefully down to the water, never looking back. If she came, so be it. If not, he'd try to get one on his own. In any case, he'd better hurry. Sondo would likely have them get back on the rafts as soon as they finished lunch to continue their journey southward.

[Primrose Bolger]

It was the dull thunk of the gloves near her that made her believe the he just might mean for her to go with him. Sassy scrambled up from her seat on the ground and picking up the gloves and her pack followed after him. She noted he carried his own pair of gloves . . . and a net. Her little brow wrinkled as she tried to imagine what he was going to do with it. She shrugged her shoulders; perhaps that was how his family did it. But try as she might she just couldn’t see how it would work. The net looked too flimsy for the claws and jaws of a sizable snapper.

Sassy shouldered her little pack and ran up beside him, saying ‘thanks!’ as she tucked the gloves in the waistband of her breeches. They walked along in companionable silence until they neared the reedy area, stopping only once as she ran off to the side of the little grassy track to pick up two very stout, thick sticks. Bingo looked at her, his brows raised, but she just grinned up at him. ‘Comes in handy,’ she said, not offering much of an explanation. ‘My Uncle Maddy showed me.’

The two Hobbits stood for a few moments on the edge of the reedy area. There were, indeed, a number of snappers dozing among the reeds in the muddy flats. Bingo loosed his net and put on his gloves, nodding toward where the turtles were lolling. Sassy pointed a little ways up the river where an old willow grew on the bank, its roots a tangle as they dipped into the river. ‘Think I might try my luck there,’ she said. ‘Unless you need my help with something?’ Bingo shrugged, and she took that as an okay.

Sassy put her pack on the bank, taking out her little hatchet to lean against its side. Then she edged out onto the root tangle, hunkering down to peer through the intertwining roots. At first she had no luck, but she inched along and finally found what she was looking for. There was a snoozing turtle, about ten inches across, all cozy in the little passageway it had found for itself beneath the roots. She picked her way quietly to the tail end of the turtle, noting how it had tunneled in. Putting her gloves on, Sassy thrust her arm carefully into the hole and grabbed the snapper by his long tail. A struggled ensued, but the determined girl planted her feet and drew the hissing turtle out. It was not one of the granddaddy turtles, but it was a fair size, and would add a good bit of meat to Bingo’s plans for soup.

‘Got one!’ she called, dragging the creature backwards up the slope and onto the top of the river’s bank. The snapper was spitting mad and tried twisting itself this way and that with its claws dug in to get at its capturer. At one point, her foot slipped on the muddy bank, and the turtle nipped her soundly on the ankle, causing her to yelp loudly. She scrambled her feet out of range never letting go of the tail. ‘Hey! Can you help me here?’ she cried, calling out to Bingo. He came quickly, adding his weight to the pull as they eased the turtle toward her pack. ‘Get that stick there,’ she told Bingo, nodding at those she’d brought along. Bingo took hold of one of the stout stick and bopped the turtle on the nose. Like greased lightning, the snapper stretched out its neck and grabbed hold of the stick intending to do in its tormentor. Bingo kept a tight hold on the stick, keeping the turtle’s neck extended. With a quick move of her own, Sassy let go the tail and grabbing up her little hatchet, severed the head of the turtle from its neck. ‘Whew!’ exclaimed, standing back with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the catch. ‘That ‘un was a fighter!’ Sassy smiled widely at Bingo. ‘Hey, thanks!’ she said, grinning still. They could hear the turtle he’d netted flopping and hissing and tearing at the net that held him. ‘Want some help with that one?’ she asked getting out her hatchet and the other stick.

The walk back to the camp with their catch was a little less quiet. That is, Bingo was not much of a talker, but he listened to her burbling on about what fun that was, and how she hadn’t known you could hunt turtles with a net, but next time she’d try it, and how this was the second time she’d been snagged by a snapper, showing him a scar on her thumb as well as the little gash on her ankle. ‘Oh my gosh, I’m running off at the mouth aren’t I?’ she asked. ‘Sorry! My Gammer says sometimes I talk too much. Just tell me to be quiet . . . I’m used to it!’

They could hear the sounds of the other boys as they neared the camp. They were putting things back on the raft, getting ready to go. ‘Good thing you’re back, Bingo!’ one of them cried. ‘We just about left you!’ Sassy helped secure the two turtles on a short length of rope, so they could drag along in the cold water of the river to keep fresh. She looked about as the boys gathered on the raft, standing about in groups of twos and threes. Bingo had gone over to talk to his brother. With a resigned little sigh, she sat down again near the edge of the raft and leaned against her pack, dipping her nipped ankle in the cool, soothing water . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo had said little as they walked down to the river to catch the turtles. His mind was preoccupied with other things. When his mother and father were alive, they had fled the acrimony of Brandy Hall and occupied a rambling burrow near the banks of the Baranduin, almost like the Stoors of days long past. Dinodas Brandybuck, Bingo’s father, had always been fond of turtles and thought them quite intriguing. He had a gift for trapping and hunting the creatures that enabled him to keep his wife and children fed while trading leftover turtles back to Brandy Hall for other goods.

Bingo remembered the day he had helped his father dam a side tributary of the river to create a large holding pond at the rear of the family’s burrow. They had stocked the pond with fish and turtles and encircled it with a tall wood fence. In it lived a snapper named George, round and heavy as a boulder, with a nasty temper that was even more pronounced than his massive size. George had somehow escaped the family’s cooking pot to live several years in the pond, making steady inroads on his smaller neighbors there. Whenever Bingo walked over to the pond to do some errand for his Da, George regularly terrorized the lad, coming close to try and nip his toes.

Despite this, Dinodas had defended the turtle to his son, pointing out that George had reason for his actions, “A smart critter, and no wonder he’s so testy. He’s lived longer than even Mister Bilbo of Hobbiton, and that’s no easy task.”

On the night that Bingo learned of his mother and father’s deaths, he had gone to the pond and enticed old George into a wooden box, lugging him down to the river before setting the monstor free. Bingo had never seen George again, but he was sure he had done the right thing.

As he reached the water’s edge with Sassy, Bingo pulled back from his musings. He nodded goodbye to the lass and set out to trap a turtle of his own. Sassy had looked askance at the net he was carrying. It wasn't the best of traps to use, but it would have to do. Back home, his father has crafted floating traps made of a special kind of hollow wood and then lured the turtles in with bait. He did not have one of those. But in a pinch, other things would work almost as well. He leaned over the edge and dropped the net into the shallows, threading a few slivers of chicken onto a hook attached to a line. The line had several other sharp barbs sticking out near the end; these did not have any bait. When the sleepy turtle came up to look and clamped his mouth down on the chicken, he had not only been snared by the original hook, but the other two had each embedded in a leg, making it more difficult for the thrashing creature to reach back and nab Bingo.

Bingo drew the net tight and cut his line, still leaving the hooks in the turtle’s mouth and legs. Then he stuck a stick under the snapper’s nose. The turtle clamped down and refused to let go, which was exactly what Bingo had hoped for. The lad quickly slid a piece of rag over the snapper’s head to keep him from seeing and bundled him out of the water, squalling and kicking, before laying the creature down on the bank and chopping off the head with the help of Sassy's hatchet. After that, he'd removed the hooks and carried the body in the net bag.

He had thanked the lass for her help. For all her youth and wagging tongue, she had shown considerable skill and bravery. Then he'd run back to rejoin the other lads and left Sassy behind. Several of the lads were admiring his catch, which made Bingo puff up with quiet pride. Then, at Sondo's insistence, they had gathered together the last of their belongings and bundled them into the raft as everyone again found their places. Within a short time, they had pushed off from shore and continued their southwesterly path.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam wandered over to Sondo and looked around helplessly. He wanted to help, but ever since the boat he felt a little out of place in the group. He knew he was the one that caused it and of course that brought slight anger, at himself of course not others, but it was still there. He didn't want to bring any more undo pain to his fellow journeysmen. He only hoped to help.

He walked over and tapped Sondo on the shoulder, nervous at what he was about to ask. He didn't want to make Sondo any more mad at him.

"Sondo is there anything that I can help with? I would like to be a productive member of the gang instead of destructive one," Sam said as he looked down at his hands. He only wished he had something better say to Sondo.

Since the raft had tipped he couldn't look Sondo in the eye. He wasn't sure exactly why, but that was how he felt. He felt so ashamed of what he had done and never before had he felt that emotion before in his life.

He stood, waiting for Sondo to respond.

[Firefoot]

Sondo raised his eyebrows skeptically. He could not help but take a rather cynical approach to Sam's seemingly heartfelt offer - he had known the other hobbit too long. It seemed that it would take a lot more than a raft tip to change Sam's attitude, but if it was so, Sondo supposed he ought to have dumped Sam in the river a long time ago.

He shrugged in response, though Sam didn't see it because of his steady gaze at his feet. "Listen, Sam," said Sondo. "If this is about the raft, forget about it, okay? It's done with, and everyone's fine." Sam peeked at Sondo's face before returning his sight downward and answering, "I just want to help out."

Sondo took a deep breath. "Well, there's not a whole lot to be done right now. Tonight I suppose you could help cook the turtles that Bingo and Sassy caught earlier, if you want. I'm sure there'll be something you can do."

"I'm not much of a cook," mumbled Sam. "But I'll try, if that's what you think." This amused Sondo somewhat, since Sam was always the one who ate the most, but it also annoyed him that Sam was acting so... servant-like.

"Lighten up, Sam!" exclaimed Sondo. In some ways he found dealing with the grumpy Sam easier than the too-courteous one. "Just do what you can. If all you do is be friendly to everyone, that'll help some. It's an adventure, Sam; you're supposed to have fun!"

"Well, all right," answered Sam, not seeming entirely convinced. Sondo just sighed; some hobbits were beyond his comprehension.

The rest of the afternoon continued mostly without mishap. He had been worried for a few moments when the raft encountered some mini-rapids caused by a few sharp boulders at the bottom of the river and a slight drop in the landscape. The raft weathered the rougher water surprisingly well, and after having some experience earlier at manipulating the raft around rocks, the hobbits were well-prepared to deal with it. The slight increase of speed just before hand was exhilarating, and excitement erased any fear that they might not make it through, which they did without a hitch. Soon after this light started to fade and the lads began to look for a place to stop for the night.

Now that they had the long wooden poles, they did not need to worry about lassoing a tree or oddly-shaped rock which made maneuvering the raft to shore much easier. A likely spot was found in a grassy dell between two steep hills. They unloaded their supplies and started a fire, which was harder than it had been the previous night since this more hilly region was only sparsely wooded. They also tried to avoid using fresh branches because they smoked more. Then they began the cheerful task of cooking turtle stew. After several very similar meals, it seemed a feast. Two lads who were more skilled at recognizing tasty herbs brought back seasoning for the stew while others helped prepare the actual turtles. Sam seemed happy to be actually aiding in the process. Every time Sondo had seen him before, he had appeared to be trying very hard to enjoy himself, a purpose defeating itself in the effort it took. Sassy was fitting in better, now that the lads had gotten used to her presence.

When they finally sat down to enjoy their collaborative project of delicious turtle stew, everyone was tired but jovial. Sondo tried to savor each mouthful but found that his portion of the stew was gone only too quickly. It filled him to the brim, but had more been offered he would have taken it in a heartbeat. The others felt much the same way, resulting in another wash of praise for Bingo's, and more reluctantly, Sassy's, catches. When they finally settled down for the night, Sondo's last musings were of how thoroughly pleased he was with the way all had gone throughout the day and hopes for many more days like it. Little did he know, all was about to change.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo pulled the blanket over his head and rolled onto his stomach, vainly trying to screen out the sunlight and catch a few more minutes of rest. He had slept fitfully the night before. For several hours, he had flipped from side to side unable to sleep, listening to the incessant hooting of a nearby screech owl (http://www.owlpages.com/species/otus/asio/e_screech12.html) and trying to wriggle free of a twisted tree root that kept poking up from underneath his mat and jabbing him in the back. He had even tried moving to another spot, one that was closer to the other lads. But that had not proven to be helpful. One of the hobbits was snoring so loudly that Bingo had to plug his ears with his fingers until he could finally fall asleep.

Reluctantly, Bingo pried open an eye and sat up, scanning the length of the camp. He was surprized to note that no one else was awake. With a groan, he sprang to his feet. From the look of the horizon and the racket the birds were making in the overhead trees, the morning was already well advanced. It was long past the hour when they should have finished their breakfast, returned to the raft, and resumed their journey down river. Adventuring, Bingo reflected, was not always as easy as it sounded in the old tales. There, no one ever overslept!

Bingo scrambled over to where his brother was sleeping and jabbed him in the ribs, "Wake up, Reggie! We've overslept."

Then he started hollering and yelling to wake up the others, all the while ruefully thinking that this was not a very auspicious omen for the third day of their trip.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy was having the most delicious dream. It was evening, just last evening to be exact, and everyone was sitting around the little fire eating the turtle soup. The soup itself was delicious. But even better was that one of the boys had made room for her to sit in the circle around the campfire. And she had told a joke some of her friends had going round and the boys had laughed. Quite pleased with herself, Sassy rolled over, hoping the dream would go a little further.

Instead a loud voice intruded on her. ‘Wake up! We’ve overslept!’

She scrambled out of her bedroll and stood up to see the source of the noise. It was Bingo! Sassy blinked in the already bright sunshine and hurried to gather her things together. She tucked her shirt into her breeches and pushed back her messy curls – a comb or brush had not been on her list of essential items.

Once her pack and blanket was stowed on the raft, she ran back to the boys’ part of the camp to see how she could help. A burlap bag of apples had been left out and she took one to munch on. She passed it round as the boys gathered their belongings and began loading them on the raft.

From the looks of things, she thought, it might be all the breakfast they got.

[Encaitare]

"Wake up, Reggie! We've overslept."

From his little realm of total safety and comfort, Reggie wished his brother would shut up and let him sleep just a bit longer. He meant to tell him so, too, but didn't really feel like spending the energy on something that was likely to make Bingo angry. Yet he moved plenty quickly when Bingo began poking him in the side.

"All right, alright, Aunt Hilda. I'm getting up!" Reggie grumbled good-naturedly. Bingo went to go rouse the others, shaking his head slightly at the younger hobbit. Reggie smoothed his rumpled clothes, and then shook out and rolled up his blanket, wondering what was for breakfast. Apples, as it would seem -- hardly a hearty meal, but a tasty one all the same. He crunched into a tart, juicy apple as he helped the others load everything back onto the raft.

When everything was tied down or balanced to their satisfaction, Sondo declared that they could be off. Rory and Marroc pushed the raft off the bank with two long poles, and soon they were moving at a fair speed. Reggie laid down on his stomach, careful not to upset the raft's balance. There was no need to repeat their previous capsizing. He peered over the edge into the water, watching silver-scaled fish of all sizes swimming beneath the surface. The water at the raft's edges swirled vigorously. The river had risen a little, Bingo had told him, and that was why they had been moving faster yesterday. Reggie had thought it had been quite exciting, even better than the swing he and his cousins played on. You could fly through the air upon it, and feel the wind rushing past your face. It made him a little dizzy sometimes, but he didn't mind it. But the feeling on the raft was even more fun. There was no rope to hold you to one place if you didn't want it, and there was no Aunt Hilda to tell you when to stop playing and come inside. Instead there were adventures, and friends, and freedom.

[Boromir88]

Rory slipped off into a dreamless slumber. It wasn't long until he felt someone shaking him. "Wake up! We overslept!" Rory stirred, licked his lips, and turned over. "Wake up! Wake up! We got to go!" Rory still didn't wake. Soon Rory felt a splash of cool water down his back. He jumped up, clearly awake now. Rory saw it was Bingo.

"Jeez, not only are you a snorer, but hard to wake up!" he said half friendly, half irritably.

"I snore?" Rory looked puzzled.

"Yes! It was practically all night. Get something to eat, and eat it fast so we can get going."

Rory didn't respond, he just walked towards the food. He still wasn't totally awake yet. If Rory was snoring that ment he was in a deep sleep, and very hard to get up. His mother would always send his younger brothers to wake him, and would let them use any means at their disposal.

He didn't have time to sit and eat. Mostly everyone was done with their apple, or nearly done. Sondo shouted over to Rory, "Since you were the last one up, you can go get the raft ready. We are leaving soon." Rory grumbled, but thought it was only fair. "Well," he said talking to his apple, "I guess you'll just have to wait." He jammed it into his pockets. Marroc came by and gave Rory a hand, and Rory thanked him. Soon they were off again...Rory hoped it wasn't as boring as yesterday.

[Kitanna]

Marroc was having a delightful dream about his mother's mashed taters when some started shaking him. "Wake up! Wake up! We got to go!"

"Go? Go where?" Then Marroc remembered he wasn't at home. He was on an adventure. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking the morning world into focus. He ate a quick breakfast of apples with the others. It wasn't the breakfast he would have liked, espicially after the dream he just had, but he couldn't complain.

When it was time to head off Rory was given the job of pushing off the raft. Marroc went over to help him. Once they were floating down the river Marroc took a seat my Sassy. He had no real intention of talking to her.

He looked around and thought Reggie had the right idea of justing laying on his stomach watching the water. Marroc must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Reggie and Sondo had caught a whole mess of fish.

The young Hobbit looked up and saw storm clouds moving in. He hoped Sondo planned to get off the raft before the storm started. Marroc could think of nothing worse then being stuck on the river in a rainstorm.

[Firefoot]

Sondo couldn't believe what a late start they had gotten. Had they all really overslept? He knew that he had been in deep sleep - he had been scared out of his wits when Bingo started yelling for everyone to get up. They were on their way now, though, so that was good. They certainly wouldn't be stopping for lunch today! No, they would have to eat on the raft.

In the frenzied activity preceding their departure, Sondo had noticed very little except the task immediately at hand: getting moving. Now, however, there was little to do and Sondo realized that while it had been clear yesterday, today the sky was full of large, fluffy looking clouds, and some dark, ominous-looking thunderclouds loomed on the western horizon. He hoped there would not be a thunderstorm; not only would the weather be miserable, but they would also probably have to stop if the river got too wild. They had tipped once, in calm water, no less, and already the current was swifter than when they had started out. It was a recipe for disaster, but Sondo cockily dismissed the threat figuring that they could work through it like they had the rock jams and rapids. They were working together now, and the hobbits were all getting along fine; in fact, despite the late start, no one seemed to be in a particularly bad mood.

He saw Reggie laying on his stomach at the edge of the raft, apparently watching something with interest. He was alone, and Sondo had nothing else to do, so he approached and asked about it.

"Oh," he said vaguely, "the water, the fish." Perhaps it was a light in his eyes or the way he said it, but Sondo could sense Reggie's excitement, and Sondo was genuinely glad he had let the hobbit come along.

"Maybe we should try to catch some," suggested Sondo. If it was going to rain, at least they could have some fresh meat later on. Reggie was agreeable, and Sondo dug some hooks and line out of their supply stock. As he was doing so, it began to drizzle lightly. As long as he was at it, Sondo supposed he should get out some cloaks as well, in case it started raining harder. Someone groaned about the weather acting up, but Sondo didn't mind the light rain. It smelled good, all fresh and damp. As long as it didn't start pouring, he would be fine.

He sat down next to Reggie and handed him the fishing supplies. They chatted amiably, generally getting to know each other and forgetting for a while the light but persistant rain. The fish were really biting, and the pair ended up throwing back some fish that might otherwise be considered nice-sized. Most of the fish they kept were nice, fat silvery trout.

"It's the rain," said a knowledgeable, but not snobby, voice behind them. Sondo turned and found it to be Rory. "It brings them to the surface." Sondo nodded, recalling the fact.

"Whatever it is, it's working," Sondo grinned. They now had enough fish for everyone to eat their fill, and he and Reggie reluctantly put away their tackle. The fish, which they had stuck into Bingo's turtle net for lack of a better container, were also put away with the food supplies until they could prepare them to eat. Now, without the pleasant distraction, Sondo realized that a brisk breeze had stirred up, making the damp seem chillier. The dark clouds had moved closer, now, and Sondo feared that the storm was inevitable. The odd part was that through the incomplete cloud cover, the sun was still visible if not warming, and they went through alternating periods of sun and shade mixed with the determined rainfall. He only hoped it didn't turn absolutely miserable. The sun had not even reached its zenith yet, and Sondo could only reason that they would have to wait till lunch to decide what ought to be done.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo sat cross legged on the raft, miserably huddled in a tight ball. They had been travelling for several hours, and the weather was no better. If anything, the rainfall was coming more frequently and could no longer be described as light drizzle. The optimism of the early morning slowly eroded as sheets of rain continued to fall and the sun disappeared behind an ominous bank of grey clouds.

Bingo had initially pulled the woolen cape around his shoulders and tugged its hood over his head in a vain attempt to ward off the worst of the rain. But after several hours travelling down river, his cape was drenched and offered little protection. Worst of all the wind seemed to be picking up and the current was running faster, with the raft bobbing crazily in the water. The combination was not good. Bingo sat shivering in the front of the raft, with water dripping off the end of his nose. He wondered if Sondo would call a halt for lunch. Not that he felt much like eating. But he would give a great deal to have steady ground underneath his feet. His breakfast apple had been no more than half-ripe and was still bouncing inside his stomach. As the raft lurched forward, its front edge tilting up and down, Bingo suddenly felt very queasy and light headed.

Turning to the companion next to him, he groaned, "I think I'm going to be seasick."

The other hobbit eyed him warily, "Seasick? You can't be 'seasick' in a river. And I thought you'd been on boats before!"

"Yes, but never in rain and wind like this with the raft going up and down. Maybe you're not supposed to get seasick on rivers, but my stomach feels awfully funny."

Bingo's face was taut and tinged with a sickly greenish hue. He was becoming desperate. "Excuse me please," he cried out to anyone who would listen. "Do you think we might stop for lunch and take some shelter from this rain. Anyways, if we don't stop soon, I think I am going to be sick......"

[Primrose Bolger]

Primrose Bolger's post

What had started out as an inconvenient day had now turned nearly intolerable. She’d huddled under her cloak when the drizzle had started and moved on to pulling up her hood when the rain had begun to fall hard. Sassy had kept her turtle’s top shell – she’d scoured it with sand at the river bank and rinsed it thoroughly. Now she popped it on top of her hood like a rain hat, a length of twine securing it on her head. Several of the boys had laughed at her when she’d put it on, but at the moment she just didn’t care. It kept her head warm and dry and the rain from her eyes.

Despite the cold and rain, her tummy had begun to protest its empty state. Her eyes went frequently to Sondo, wishing at first he would say it was lunchtime, then wishing he would say it was lunchtime and time to take cover from the rain. And now she could hear Bingo complaining about his stomach, though from what she could hear he wasn’t hungry, he was about to heave up the apple he’d taken for breakfast.

‘Well maybe if I head the raft toward shore, the others will help out,’ she thought to herself. Marroc was sitting next to her, looking as miserable as everyone else. ‘Hey, give me a hand! I want some lunch and I want it under the cover of the trees on the riverbank.

Sassy got up, motioning for Marroc to come along with her. She grabbed one of the long steering poles, almost slipping on the wet slick surface of the raft. It hadn’t looked so hard when she’d seen the boys do it yesterday. She planted her feet firmly near the edge of the raft and pushed her pole against a rock she saw sticking up out of the rushing river. Behind her she could hear some of the boys yelling at her. She thought she heard ‘Stop!’ yelled several times.

But it was too late . . . the pole slipped down the side of the slick rock and got caught in whatever hidden tangle of rocks there was at the base of the big boulder. She tried to push on it then pull, but it was no use. The river was running too high and fast. It slammed her against the pole, sending the raft careening wildly. The pole snapped. Sassy fell hard on the edge of the raft causing it to rock wildly. The rest of the steering poles, which had been stacked near her clattered into the river as the raft bucked on what was normally an area of low rapids, but was now swollen with rain.

‘Oh blast!’ cried Sassy. ‘Help!’ She clung by her fingers to one of the ropes holding parts of the raft together as her small body slid back and forth on the slick surface of the raft.

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Kitanna's post

Marroc wished he had never gotten up this morning. Things just kept getting worse. He was tired, wet, and just generally miserable. He was sitting next to Sassy and he found himself jealous of the turtle shell hat she had made. Her head must be dry as a bone, he kept thinking.

Marroc tried to forget that he was wet and miserable and decided instead to focus on being hungry and miserable. He wanted to ask Sondo if it was possible to stop. It would be the smart and safe thing to do. After all poor Bingo was sick and everyone else would catch their death in this weather if they didn't seek shelter soon.

"Hey, give me a hand," Sassy's voice broke through Marroc's thoughts. "I want some lunch and I want it under the cover of the trees on the riverbank."

At this point Marroc should have used some common sense and stopped Sassy. Instead he followed her. She took up a large steering pole and Marroc helped her. They both had to work hard to kept from slipping all over the slick surface on the raft.

With the help of Marroc Sassy pushed the pole against a rock. The other lads were yelling for her to stop. Marroc let his hold on the pole loosen, another stupid move. Sassy had the pole stuck on the rocks. It snapped. Sassy hit the raft with a thud, as did Marroc. Almost, if not all, of the other steering poles, fell into the water. Marroc realized his error now. It had been stupid to try to help Sassy. He should have stopped her.

Looking up he saw she was clinging to the side of the raft. Sondo rushed to her aid and pulled her up. Everyone was safe, but for how long? With no steering poles what hope did they have of getting off the river before things got even worse? Though Marroc didn't think things could get any worse.

[Boromir88]

Despite the cold, and the contant beating of rain, Rory was in relatively high spirits compared to the other hobbits. His nose began to turn red, and his stomach began to grumble, as the apple he had in the morning hadn't been nearly enough to fill him. He was starting to think the waters were getting unsafe to travel down. Whatever Sondo had in mind for today, it's better to be safe then sorry, as my gaffer said, and we can always continue once the rain has stopped, he thought to himself.

That's when Bingo let out a shout making his thoughts heard, "Excuse me please, do you think we might stop for lunch and take some shelter from this rain. Anyways, if we don't stop soon, I think I am going to be sick......"

"There's no sense in going forward, these rapids are getting too rough." Rory chimed in. He noticed Falco began to study Sondo, as if waiting to see what he would do.

Sondo first acted like he didn't hear Bingo, nor Rory, but the grumbles began to grow and decided he had to try to convince the boys they must continue. Amongst the conversation, they lost track of the raft, and heard a bump. Sassy was trying to steer the boat towards the shore and land, the hobbits began to shout "Stop!"

"We're in treacherous rapids now. It's better to let the water carry you then fight it, as my pa used to say." Rory shouted above the growing noise of the storm. The skies began to light up with flashes, and boomed with thunder.

"What do you suppose we do then?" said Sondo. "Let the waters and rocks rip this raft apart? Or have the raft fling us into unknown territories?"

"No!" screamed Rory, "But often when trying to fight the river you could only make things worse....and with this raft already tipping in calm waters, we don't know what will happen."

Another yell was heard, but it was a girl's voice, and a cry of help. Sassy slipped and began sliding...off the raft! "Help!" Sondo knocked Rory aside and dove for his little sister. "I got you" he said in a sigh of relief, and pulled her back on board. "Are you ok?" Sassy said yes, as she stood up and brushed herself off. The rapids were only getting worse, Sondo needed to do something. "If we work together we can get this raft, and us, to the shore safely." He then looked at Rory suspicously, wondering what he was thinking. Rory didn't say anything, and he wasn't about to do anything, unless everyone was against him.

[Firefoot]

For a moment a flash of lightning lit everyone’s features. All of them were afraid to a greater or lesser extent, whether they chose to show it or not. Sailing in conditions like these was dangerous, if not downright stupid, whatever Rory might say. Truth be told, he had been about to agree to stopping before events had gone all chaotic on him, but no one had really been listening to anyone but themselves and he had lost his chance. He blamed himself, mostly, and made it his goal to see everyone through. They needed to get the raft to shore if they could. Frankly, Sondo wasn’t sure if it would be possible, with only one pole left - they could very well drown either way.

“Listen, Sassy,” he said softly, but fiercely. “Go to the center of the raft, and hold tight to something: a rope, the mast, anything, and don’t get in anyone’s way. Try to make sure the supplies don’t come loose. You’re too little to be handling the poles, and I don’t want you causing any more trouble. Got that?” He didn't wait to see if she obeyed; she was already going to be hearing it from him later. First she goes off and tries to steer the raft on her own, as if she were leader and not him, and then she loses all of their poles. He quickly took stock of the situation: some were trying to get the raft back under control, except they were working independently rather than together, and a few seemed frozen, unsure of what to do except stay on board. Sondo began to issue orders in an attempt to get everything under control.

“Reggie, take some rope and try to use that to bring us to shore. Two of you pair up on the remaining pole. Everyone else, watch for rapids and don't fall overboard. We need to work together, everyone!” Sondo found that he had some avid supporters in trying to get to shore. Those who couldn’t swim, and also Bingo who was still looking rather green around the edges. Rory reluctantly pitched in when he found the vote had seemed to sway against him. Sondo found himself working a pole with Falco. He was glad they were paired up - the wet poles were very slippery and the crashing river was treacherous. It was easy to see how Sassy, inexperienced at using the poles, had lost one.

Reggie cast out his rope a few times at large rocks or the singular trees that grew along the banks, but as a combination of ripping wind, pouring rain, and bucking waves, made several attempts without snagging anything. Finally, he called out, “I got it!” They dug in their poles, trying to curb the path of the raft. The current was too strong, however, and at that precise moment they happened upon a sequence of rapids. Sondo could tell Reggie was straining hard, and left Falco with the pole to go help. Their combined effort at the rope seemed beneficial, until with a loud snap and a sudden rush of movement, the rope snapped. They were all knocked off balance and ended up sprawling on the raft. The remaining pole was dropped into the water, though by some lucky chance none of the hobbits fell overboard. For a moment, Sondo thought the raft would tip with all of them crashing down upon it, and indeed it was already careening wildly, but the weight was evenly enough balanced that only a thin sheen of water sliced across the upside of the raft, not making much of a difference since everyone was already soaked through despite their cloaks.

Sondo had no idea what to do next. The rope which had snapped was the only rope long enough to bring the raft to shore, and they had no poles left. In a brief flash of lightning Sondo thought he caught a look of grim satisfaction on Rory’s face that he had been right, but the other hobbit didn’t say anything. By now, Bingo was not the only one looking sick as a result of the pitching river. Sondo felt queasy too, but not because of seasickness. He was scared for his life. If the other hobbits hadn’t realized it yet, they probably would soon, but Sondo feared that they might all drown. A dip in the river brought Sondo down to his knees, and he realized that standing was not a good idea.

“Everyone sit down near the center of the raft!” said Sondo. He had to yell to be heard over the noise of the storm. “We need to stay balanced. Also, grab hold of part of this rope.” (It was the end of the one which had snapped; the other end was still tied to the mast.) “No one is going to drown here! A storm like this can’t last long, and there’s nothing we can do.” The words sounded dark and ominous, but every hobbit there knew they were true. There was an air of finality to them, and for a while no one spoke. After a short while, the rumbling stomachs of those who were not sick were remembered, and the lad closest to the supplies finagled some fruit and meat out and passed the food around. It was difficult to eat on the pitching raft when the hobbits were periodically tossed about, and the effort was soon given up by most, figuring the storm would blow over soon.

Sondo was miserable. What had happened to his glorious adventure? Why didn’t the old stories ever talk about miserable weather conditions and grumbling comrades? A crack of thunder emphasized his brooding thoughts. There’s nothing we can do...

[Nurumaiel]

Was it any surprise that more misfortunes were upon them? No, it was not, Falco thought decidedly. First the raft had tipped, and now they were caught in a storm. Sondo wasn't a capable leader. He didn't care if the storm had come with Sondo's bidding. Sondo was the leader, and he was responsible. How would he feel if they all drowned? Would he like it if he drowned, if he died, and it were all his fault?

What if I became leader?

Falco started as the thought came to him, and cast a guilty look about him. Of course nobody could read his thoughts! Why should it bother him to think of it? He was always taking up leadership when Sondo failed back home. Perhaps this was different because they were on the water. Wouldn't that be mutiny?

It wouldn't be mutiny if he let Sondo stay leader, would it? What if he just formed his own expedition? The boys could go with him if they wanted, or, if they were foolish, they could go with Sondo.

But... what if that was mutiny, too?

At any rate, it was interesting to think about.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy accepted the piece of fruit and a strip of the dried meat in silence. She nodded her head at the boy who handed them to her, keeping her hood pulled well forward so that he could not see her face. Despite the chill of the day, her cheeks were blazing . . . and not from the briskness of the wind and rain. She was embarrassed; mortified that she’d gotten them into such a pickle! They were being hurtled down the river, and who knew when they would be able to maneuver toward the shore. Sassy hoped fervently both the raft and all of them wouldn’t be too banged up in the process.

‘You little wormbrain,’ she chided herself. ‘Maybe they should have left you to slip under the waves!’ Sassy chewed angrily on her meat stick as she sat huddled with the others in the middle of the raft. One hand held the raggedy, bitten piece of meat while the other held on for dear life to the rope. And that was another thing . . . Sassy loved the water, and was really quite a good swimmer. But, the fierceness of the river’s current really had frightened her when she’d almost slid into it. It had dragged at her toes, like some old boggart her Gammer had told stories about . . .the kind that liked to pull little children who wouldn’t stay in their beds into the darkness beneath and eat them boiled and mashed.

Sassy shuddered for a moment beneath her cloak, then clamped down on those sort of thoughts. She looked slyly about hoping no one had seen her acting scared. She couldn’t show she was frightened . . . boys didn’t, and well . . . she didn’t want to be laughed at. She had to be just as tough as they were.

She’d just wanted to help Bingo who had been nice to her and let her go along on the turtle hunt. She scooted carefully near him, pulling her pack off her shoulders as she reached the boy. Sassy fished in her pack, way down to the bottom, til she found the little tin she’d brought. Cook would skin her when she figured out who’d filched the candies from the cupboard.

‘Umm . . . Bingo?’ she said hesitatingly, trying to catch his attention. She opened the little tin. The candies were a little stuck together from being out in the wet weather, but she held them out toward him. ‘My Gammer makes these peppermint drops for us for sweets. She says they’re good for tummies, too. Settles ‘em right down. You want one?’ She made a little gesture as if offering them about for general use.

A little ways away from her sat that boy, Falco - the one that had cornered her brother when they first found her stowed away on the raft. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a brief look of guilt cross his face. Wonder what he's thinking! she thought to herself, eyeing him for a moment, her forehead wrinkling briefly.

************************************

Child of the 7th Age's post for Bingo

Bingo warily eyed the small tin of peppermints that Sassy was holding out in her hand. He could feel the hot stares of several of the lads, who peered at him in an offhand way, not saying a word but watching surreptitiously to see what he would do. The raft had settled down a little, and his stomach was feeling considerably better. A peppermint would be just the thing to set things back to rights again. Bingo had a bit of a sweet tooth, which he rarely had the chance to indulge. The peppermints looked awfully tempting, and Sassy somehow seemed less of a nuisance than she had done before.

Leaning over to the lass, he grinned, "Don't mind if I do....", and then reached his hand inside the box being careful to fish out only one. For one minute, he thought he heard a snicker from the back of the raft. But when Bingo shot his head around and glared, the sound immediately died. And within a few minutes, the raft had encountered a much wilder stretch of the river, and all thoughts of further investigation immediately died. Bingo hung onto the mast for dear life, hoping that the worst of the journey was behind them.

[Firefoot]

Sondo lifted his head hopefully when he realized that the time between the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder were becoming long indeed. Was the rain falling lighter, too, or was it just his imagination? Perhaps the wind was less cutting now. And maybe, that was a glimpse of sunlight through the clouds. Certainly, it was still raining and the river was rough yet, but Sondo was fairly sure the storm was over. They had made it through!

The others seemed to be perking up as they realized the same thing. Granted, they were still stranded on a raft with no decent means to get to shore, but the storm was over; surely everything would be better now. It wasn’t to say that anyone was particularly cheerful (they weren’t) for they were largely still cold, wet, and miserable, but there was a palpable mood of relief in the air.

Gripping the mast tightly for support, Sondo stood up. He wanted to get a better idea of the lay of the land than he could get sitting down. His stance on the rolling raft was shaky, but he did not show it. He stood straight, straining his eyes through the gray rain. Even drenching wet and shivering slightly from the chill, he looked every inch the leader. It was still his adventure, and his infallible optimism would not be suppressed now that the worst of it was over. Seeing him up, some of the hobbits began to move around as well, as much simply to stretch as anything else.

“Hey, there’re some more rapids coming up,” announced Sondo to everyone and no one. “Let’s see if we can get the raft over to the right side of the river more... it doesn’t look so bad over there.” Some raised their eyebrows at him, but it was Rory who asked the unspoken question: “How? Our poles and rope are gone.”

Sondo shrugged impatiently. “Well, what if we used our arms and legs to paddle over there?” No one seemed overly thrilled about getting even more wet than they already were. Seeing this, Sondo was the first to sit down on the edge and put his legs in the (cold) water. He was joined rather reluctantly, some on one side and some on the other to balance the raft.

“Now, paddle!” said Sondo. He kicked his own legs hard, and the joint effort seemed to work, at least a little bit. It did not occur to Sondo that if it hadn’t worked then they would all have been sitting at the edge of the raft while it went over the rapids and they all would have ended up going for a swim. Luckily it did work well enough, and as they drew near the rapids most instinctively withdrew their limbs in preference for the security of the middle of the raft, and the rest followed suit. It was a bit rough, but Sondo had been proven right; the right side was more sedate, and compared to some of the rapids earlier in the day the ride was fairly smooth. There was a quiet satisfaction that had not been fully disabled by the loss of steering equipment. To Sondo, it seemed that even if the hobbits weren’t as jovial as the previous day, their earlier gripes had been forgotten, even though this was not actually true.

The sun was setting and the hobbits were getting hungry again by the time anyone realized the full impact of what it was that they had accomplished earlier: they had steered the raft! They could get to shore, have a hot dinner, and get warm and dry before a fire! Someone voiced this realization jubilantly, and a bit of a cheer went up. Those who had been observant had already noticed the dark clouds which were threatening to let loose a downpour over again, and were the most relieved at this prospect. Heartened by the thought of warmth and comfort, the hobbits began to take their positions on the edge of the raft when someone cried out: “Wait!”

In their new hope, they had ceased to pay any attention to the river. Looming just ahead was another set of rapids, and they could not be all sitting on the edge going over those! So impatiently they set out to wait. Before they had even reached them, however, the storm broke loose once more. A crack of thunder came from directly overhead, and drops came fast and furious. The hobbits were nearly unprepared upon hitting the rapids, and many lost their footing, though luckily none fell overboard.

The griping that Sondo thought had been forgotten quickly returned now. No one wanted to go so close to the edge now that the waves were all but ready to come and turn the raft over! They once again had no means to get to shore, and had no way to see now that the sun had set, leaving them in utter, rainy darkness. Much of this complaining turned against Sondo, and though he tried his hardest to assuage it, he was completely unsuccessful, mostly because he was unconvinced himself. What would they do now? They had never sailed at night before, for obvious reasons. Now it was night and storming! He then felt as much as heard a rock scrape against the bottom of the raft. He could feel an alarming wave of dread rush through him, like when he reached the top limb of a tree and had no idea how to get down or was caught in the act of steeling some mushrooms and knew his Pa was going to give him a thrashing. Only this was worse. Much worse.

Everyone was jolted from their feet when the raft ran headlong into an unseen rock. Then everything seemed to be going in slow motion. A shout that he knew he should recognize was heard, and Sondo knew that someone had gone overboard. There was no time to react, though, before he heard a crash and felt the raft tipping. He was suddenly airborne, and had no way of knowing where he would land. He could hit a rock. All around there were shouts, and there was splashing all around. Then he himself felt himself submerge. He gasped; water filled his mouth. Where was the surface? It was dark - which way was up? He could not see and could not breathe. Under water was blended with above water in the pouring rain. Then, for an instant, lightning flashed and he swam upward. A thought came unbidden: no one swam in a thunderstorm - it was dangerous. He had to get to shore, but his limbs seemed heavy. He felt himself go under again, and his foot hit the bottom. He pushed off, trying to get back to the surface. How deep was the Brandywine anyway? He began to panic. He was going to drown! He thrashed his arms and legs, losing his head and forgetting what he did know about swimming in his panic. Where was everyone? Where was Sassy? She was, after all, his sister, and he felt an overwhelming need to save her as well as himself. Having a purpose calmed him some, but he still couldn’t see. What was happening?

[Child of the 7th Age]

By the end of the afternoon, Bingo was feeling considerably better. His stomach was calm, and he had regained his strength and spirits. The hobbits had even managed to work together to get through several hard stretches of the river. Bingo was relatively optomistic that they would soon find a way to maneuver the craft towards shore and settle down for food and rest before darkness fell.

However rejuvenated Bingo may have felt, his expectations soon met with a very different outcome. In the space of only a few moments, dark shadows and rain had descended like a grey iron curtain over the river, shutting out all the light and making it impossible to see. At the last moment, they had gone hurtling forward towards a huge, submerged rock, which had only a few inches of its surface visible above the water. No one on the raft, not even Sondo, had seen it.

Bingo heard a sickening noise as wood met rock. The front of the raft tilted crazily upward and then came smashing down on top of the jagged stone. Several of the logs snapped in two. It seemed as if their mighty raft was no more than a toy boat that a child might take out to play. Under the weight of the collision, one side of the raft dipped omenously low and began to sink. Water rushed in, sending luggage and supplies and all of the hobbits hurling into the water.

Everything happened so fast that Bingo had no time to prepare or be afraid. It was almost as if he was in a dream....only this time he could not wake up, no matter how hard he tried. He felt his body smack the water. It was cold, far too cold. Bingo tried to move his hands and legs to swim but they refused to obey him. He took in a mouthful of water and began to choke and gag, feeling an insistent tugging on his leg. Something was beginning to pull him down. Looking desperately around for a way to save himself, he spied a long tree branch hurtling down stream, apparently caught in a faster current in the very middle of the river. With a final gasp, he lunged forward, forced himself to grab onto the makeshift lifeboat and held on desperately as he was carried along. Looking back, he saw that his companions were still desperately floundering near the spot where the raft had capsized. They were screaming and yelling for help.

As the current slung him forward, Bingo hastily glanced back over his shoulder scanning the horizon for a glimpse of his brother. But, with the heavy grey shadows and dark moonless night, all the hobbits looked like tiny dots: it was impossible to tell one from another. The current was still too strong for Bingo to let go, even though he wanted to turn back to help. Still clinging to the branch, he made his way around a bend in the river, hanging on by the barest edge of his fingernails. All signs of the original raft and the rest of the hobbits were now totally hidden from his view.

I've got to get out of here. I must go back and find my brother. If something happens, it's all my fault. I should never have let him come. But, however desperately Bingo may have wanted to do that, he had no choice now but to continue hurling forward, trapped on his makeshift craft.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy’s hands were so cold she just couldn’t hold on to the rope any longer. Her fingers were numb and she had to think about each one as she pried it from the line. She was wet, too, and the cold from the river water that splashed over the raft as it dipped and tumbled its way down the river froze her to her marrow. One leg, in fact, was so cold, the muscles were slow to respond as she tried to shift her weight a little to a more comfortable position.

When the raft hit the rock she skidded in a wild arc across the wet slippery surface toward the eastern part of the channel. Her little body slammed hard against the root tangle of some old willow that had crept down the bank to dip into the river’s edge. For a long moment her breath was knocked out of her; then, the slapping of the water against the roots where she lay brought her back to her senses enough so that she wrapped her little arms around a root and clung on for dear life as the water flowing down the river pushed at her.

She gathered her wits and pushed herself up the slick bark on the root to where it met the trunk. Easing herself around the base of the tree she found her way to the upper part of the river bank. Her teeth were chattering, and her right cheek stung from where it had careened against the tree root and gotten scraped. It felt raw and achy and when she put her fingers up to it, they came away wet and sticky.

It was dark, the moon and stars obscured by the storm clouds. Sassy tripped and fell several times as she put distance between herself and the river. Her ears were ringing still from the blow to her head, and she couldn’t make out the voice of anyone shouting or calling. Tears of frustration and of fear welled up in the little girl’s eyes and spilled down her scratched and bloodied cheeks. She blundered finally into a low thicket of elderberry bushes mixed in with ferns. Sassy knelt down and burrowed her way beneath the loose thick covering of leaves and fronds. She was just too tired to go on. And far too cold. Her little pack was still strapped to her back, all soggy from the rain and the dip in the river. She took it off and laid her head on it as she scooped the layers of leaves over her trying to give herself some warmth. Only her little nose poked out from her leafy blanket.

Sassy had no idea where she was. She curled up in a little ball, her teeth chattering as she lay there. ‘Please let it be morning soon,’ she mumbled to herself as she shivered. ‘And please don’t let any critters sneak up on me either.’ A fitful sleep came finally to her as she huddled there, a stout little piece of wood she’d found buried beneath the leaves clenched in one hand . . . ‘just in case,’ she had told herself before she drifted off . . .

[Boromir88]

Rory's stomach was aching, as he hit the water, it felt as if all the air was pushed out of him. He remembers the storm subsiding, and everyone starting to ask about supper, when all of a sudden it struck again; een fiercer then before. The Hobbits had no choice now but to let the raging river guide them. All their poles were gone and they couldn't even dream about steering the raft with their hands and feet.

That's when the raft shattered against the boulder. It broke in half, and splintered into many pieces. Rory was catapulted into the air. As he started coming down he was heading face down towards the water. His father always said, "don't land on your belly, if you can help it." It was too late, he smacked into the roaring waves.

Rory looked at his stomach, it was beat red; probably going to leave a bruise. He wasn't hungry any more; the pain forced his mind off food. He leaned up underneath a tree, to protect himself from the rain. He was wet, cold, and aching, which ment he wasn't going to get a good rest tonight. Out of pure boredom, he began to doze off and slip into a dream....I don't know how to swim. In these waters there was no hope of swimming, no matter how strong of a hobbit you were. The water was swirling, my only hope is to stay calm and let the water lead me. I must stay above water. What was it that Pa always told me?...Paddling! It didn't get you very far, and tired you out quickly, but at least it kept you afloat. Just go along with the current....it'll land you a shore eventually. Why can't I paddle? My arms...legs...are too heavy...I'm sinking...

Rory woke with a gasp. As soon as he woke he knew his dream was just a nightmare, he didn't sink...he was still alive. Rory had tried to remember what happened after he began to slowly paddle, how did he get back to shore? His head started hurting; he couldn't remember.

He was about to doze off again when he heard a rustle. Rory jumped, with his hand on his small sword, now alert. He heard the noise again, it was not too far in front of him. He began to think of pirates. Rory heard some of the hobbits talking about pirates. About how they went sailing and searched for treasure. That's what the hobbits' adventure was supposed to be like, right? Sailing down the Brandywine and coming upon treasure. What if it was a pirate...or worse...one of those Ruffians cousin Merriadoc was talking about. He didn't like the sound of those ruffians.

Rory had no choice, he couldn't run, or atleast not far, he was too sore and weary. He pulled out his dagger, didn't know what he would do with it...if it was a ruffian. I mean he is a hobbit and these ruffians are supposed to be the size of one of those Big folks. He sucked up a deep breath of air, as the sounds began getting closer, he tried to let out a bold warning, but it came out weak and pathetic, "Who goes there?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

After what seemed like hours to Bingo, the current began to slacken. His branch veered off into a side eddy and was finally brought to a halt by a floating mass of twigs and decaying bracken. He managed to wade out of the water and scramble up the steep bank by using the tangled tree roots to give him a hand and foothold for climbing. By now, it was completely dark. Nervously, he looked up into the skies searching for any visible sign of the moon or the stars, but the dark canopy above was featureless and blank.

Since the muddy shore was too slippery for him to walk without sinking in up to his ankles, he veered off towards the east, entering the thick grove of trees and bushes that stretched along the length of the Brandywine. He had absolutely no idea where he was or at what point on the river the raft had capsized. His main thought was to get back to his brother, and he vowed not to rest until he had managed to do that. Still, he did not like the idea of walking through the woods. The one lesson that had been drummed into his head from childhood was to avoid the woods because terrible things lurked there.

Bingo was so tired that he could barely put one foot in front of the other. But, dutiful as ever, he plodded onward, struggling to keep awake and alert. Periodically, he would bump into a bush or small tree because he wasn't watching closely enough. Plus, the night was so dark that it was difficult to see anything more than a foot away. In the distance, he heard a howling. Only a farmer's dog lost in the wild, he assured himself. But at the back of his mind lurked the image of a fierce wolf, with gleeming eyes and slavering jaws. An owl hooted in a tall tree. Bingo stopped to listen feeling increasingly ill at ease.

He went over to a tree and yanked off a sturdy cudgel, both to help him navigate the uneven ground and to provide a handy weapon if any of the foreboding noises turned out to be a portent of some immediate threat. Bingo was careful to stay on the edge of the forest, close enough to the river that he could keep track of any noises coming from that direction. But, so far, there was absolutely no sign of the raft or his brother. As he trudged along, Bingo began remembering the tales Granny used to tell him: how the hobbits of Buckland had once battled the forest and imprisoned it behind a tall hedge. He remembered her speaking of moving trees that would suddenly come alive and attack without notice, swallowing up a hobbit in its twisting limbs and trunk. Bingo shuddered slightly, wishing that he was home safe in bed. Perhaps it would be better if he stopped now, and waited for the morning to come. But then he remembered Reggie, and that Granny had also told him a hobbit must be brave and push on even when things seemed hopeless.

What happened next, Bingo could never quite explain. He was blundering through a thicket of elderberry bushes and ferns, making more noise than he should have, while thinking that it would be nice if he was back at Brandy Hall, drinking a cup of elderberry tea, when suddenly he tripped over a root, or that's what it seemed like to him. Immediately, a threatening creature loomed on the path ahead of him: a shapeless mass covered with leaves and dirt. Bingo froze in alarm, thinking that this must be one of the evil tree spirits that his granny had warned him about. The only difference was that this creature was more bush-sized than tree-sized. Bingo grimaced and steeled his nerve. He did not want to be swallowed by a bush. Raising his cudgel above his head, he roared out a warning and raced forward, intending to pummel the evil bush into the ground if it did not get out of the way.

[Encaitare]

The water was cold and swift, and as he struggled to stay above the surface of the water, Reggie couldn't help thinking, Haven't I done this before? This was the second time they had all been thrown into the river, but this time it was darker and far more dangerous. The current pulled at him, as if whispering to him.

Come down here, it's so nice down here, you'll see....

He kicked his feet as best he could to counter the water's pull and tried to get a proper breath of air. He spluttered a bit as he got half a mouthful of riverwater. Moving his limbs as quickly as they would go (not terribly quickly, since the chill water was already taking its toll on him), he managed to stay afloat. In a moment of horror, he realized he was heading towards a large rock, which jutted out like a monolith in the broken surface of the river.

It was too late to do anything about it. He was able to turn so that his back hit the rock and not his face, but he still slammed into the hard stone. Yet it was a blessing unlooked for; he grabbed at the rock with stiff hands and held on for dear life as the angry river churned about him. His breath was knocked out of him by the collision, but he slowly recovered it and looked about for the first time since the crash.

None of the others were visible; Reggie fearfully wondered if they were alright. If Bingo was safe somewhere...

He realized that he had to use his head and get out of the river. He shifted his weight and moved so that he was closer to the bank. The shadow of the dry ground looked wonderfully alluring. Taking a deep breath just in case, he pushed off the rock with his feet and shot towards the bank, dragged a little bit more downstream but mostly in the right direction. He grabbed the protruding root of an old tree and pulled himself to shore.

There he lay for several minutes, catching his breath and staring blankly up at the cloudy sky between the shadows of the boughs of the trees and ignoring the fat raindrops which pelted him. It felt so good to be on solid ground, where nothing was going to pull him in any direction other than the one he chose.

After regaining his strength, Reggie rather unsteadily got to his feet. He was not sure at all which direction to head, but upstream seemed logical. So, he took a few wobbly steps forth, which soon enough grew surer. Every so often, he glaced resentfully towards the river. Once, he thought he saw a jagged-edged piece of wood go floating by, a remnant of their poor raft. All their supplies were gone, he realized, except for what little was in their pockets. Yet right now all he wanted was to find someone else. The woods were dangerous, Aunt Hilda had always told him, and although he often disregarded her warnings, this was one which he was now willing to believe. The sound of the rushing water drowned out many other sounds; what if some animal or villain was trying to sneak up on his? He would never know it until it was too late.

He looked about him anxiously, but was only greeted by darkness. An owl hooted suddenly, giving him quite a start. He sighed as he recognized the sound. Oh, come on, Reggie. It's only an owl. Pull yourself together, or you'll never find the others. He shook his head, flinging little droplets of water into the air, and continued.

Although he went for what seemed to him to be a very long way upstream, he could not find anyone. He shuffled tiredly through the underbrush, no longer concerned about making noise. Let the dangerous creatures of the wood find him. He was too exhausted to do anything about it. Just as he was about to fall down and curl up into a ball among the leaves, he heard a voice. It was soft and frightened, but a voice nonetheless.

"Who goes there?"

Reggie was about to answer, but his voice stuck in his throat. The voice came again, this time more bold.

"I said, who goes there? Show yourself!"

Reggie took a step forward, about to answer for a second time, when suddenly a shape came rushing at him. Something silver glinted in the dim light. He had enough good sense to get out of the way, his sense of self-preservation prevailing over his fear. He noted vaguely that the shape was hobbit-sized, and then it dawned on him.

"It's me! It's Reggie!" he proclaimed to the woods and to the mysterious person, before the latter could prepare for another go at him.

"Reggie?" the person said hopefully. "I didn't realize it was you! It's Rory!"

He was flooded with relief. His luck seemed to be improving. "Do you know where any of the others are?"

"No," said Rory, putting his short sword away. "I couldn't find them, and I fell asleep for a while." Now the other hobbit's voice seemed quite familiar; Reggie figured that it must have been fright that had kept him from recognizing it.

"Oh," Reggie said dully, the word 'asleep' beckoning him to do the same. "Well, I'm glad to have found someone." His mind became hazy with his fatigue; he had to give himself a good mental shake to return to the real world and not that of dreams. "What do you think we ought to do?" he asked at last.

Rory shrugged, nothing more to Reggie's eyes than a quick raising of shadowy shoulders. "I don't know that there's anything we can do right now. Just wait until morning, I guess."

"I just want to go to sleep," said Reggie, plopping on the ground under the partial shelter of a tree.

Rory chose a nearby tree for himself. "I think I'll keep watch," he said. "There are supposed to be ruffians in these woods."

"Wake me up later and I'll watch too." With that, Reggie finally slipped off into thankfully dreamless sleep.

[Firefoot]

Sondo knew that every moment in the water had him moving further downstream and away from the rest of the hobbits. He had to get to shore. Blindly he struck off across the current, forcing his stiff limbs to move. He swam with a fevered haste, desperate to reach the shore. He knew that he was of no help to the other hobbits when he had no idea where they were and was half-drowned himself. Even so, his progress could hardly be called good because of both the harsh conditions and his own not-so-strong swimming techniques. His rapid strokes soon slowed, and his mind dulled somewhat. Would he ever reach the bank? After what seemed an eternity, he did. The bank was steep, and it was only by sheer strength of will that he was able to pull himself up at all.

The hard swim left him exhausted, but he could not rest yet. He was the leader, and he would not be responsible if hobbits drowned. He looked up and down the river first, as if unsure of which way he was supposed to go. North... would be that way, he thought. Of course. Without further thought, he began to half-stumble, half-run upstream. Where was everybody? Surely some had made it to shore by now. A horrible thought struck him. What if they were all on the other side? He would never find them - they might even think him drowned and go on without him! This was his adventure. His! The thought of someone else taking over cut him deep. He had to find them. How far upstream? Had he gone too far? Oh, this wretched storm! It was ruining his perfect adventure. There was a lump of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. Assuming he found his friends - what then? They would be without supplies. The raft had crashed, his beautiful raft was in shambles, and all their food and blankets and everything with it. There was nothing left. No, wait, that wasn’t true. He felt mild relief poking into his wall of despair as he assured himself that he still had his knife, and an apple from lunch, and soggy clothes. These things would get him far, he thought bitterly. Oh, why did his grand adventure have to go so wrong?

Just then, he tripped and fell. He didn’t get up, either; just lay there drawing deep, shuddering breaths. He had to calm down. They weren’t dead. They would find each other, and they could go home. They had only been sailing for three days; how far down river could they be? These thoughts, meant to be comforting, sounded sarcastic even to himself. The river current had been stronger than he had ever expected, especially in this last day when they had not stopped at all. Sailing was much faster than walking. For the first time, he wondered if he would ever see his home again. What a fool he had been, thinking they could just take off ‘adventuring.’ He began to doubt himself - always before he had gotten them out of scrapes, but how would he get them home? He was the leader, and he could not let them down. What would they say of him if hobbits died? They would never listen to him again. This was beyond bearing, and grim determination settled down in place of despair.

Sondo picked himself up from the ground and took off northwards again. He would find them, all of them. Especially Sassy, the bratty, troublesome, girl - his sister. He wondered again how far he had gone, and how long he would need to look. What time was it, anyway? Surely it was midnight by now. If only the cursed sun would rise; then he would be able to see. He only ran blindly, now; what was the chance that he would simply happen upon someone? He wished he would hear something, anything: cries, yells, even grumbling. It would be so much easier if he could just build a fire and let them come to him. He couldn’t, though; it was entirely too wet, even if it had mostly stopped raining. He halted abruptly; dared he to hope? He had heard something; he knew it. He switched directions and hurried toward the sound. He soon found what he was looking for: only a little ways ahead, there stood a hobbit, though Sondo did not recognize him in the dark. He grinned.

“Hey, you!” he called out, but not so loudly as to startle the other. His approach accompanied the words, and he continued. “Have you seen any of the others?”

[Primrose Bolger]

She’d just settled down into a fretful sort of rest. The night sounds about her had settled, too, into the background and no longer set her on edge. She’d sorted them out or simply didn’t care any longer because she was so sleepy and none seemed to be coming any closer.

A pleasant dream of hot buttered muffins washed down with honeyed tea was just drawing her down to sleep when her eyes flew wide open in the darkness. SOMETHING was coming closer . . . and closer . . . and closer still! Sassy hunkered a little further down beneath her cover of leaves and twigs, hoping it would pass her by, unnoticed. It was big and clumsy as it clomped along. She thought she could hear its ragged breathing as it approached. In her frantic thinking, the Bear, for that’s what she had decided it was, was snuffling along and would soon catch her scent. She grasped her whacking stick firmly in her little fist and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

She just thought her little plan might work when the Bear seemed to lunge forward. He was almost upon her! Sassy rose from her leafy hideout and stood just in the path of the Bear wavering for a moment on which way to run. The creature raised its big, long arm at her and roaring loudly came at her.

Sassy screamed, a long , loud, shrill scream and fell over in fear at the attacking Bear. There was no light really to see him well but she was sure she could see blood red eyes fixed on her and the glint of sharp fangs and claws. As he neared her, she found the courage of the beset upon and struck out blindly with all her might at the knees of the creature. Her stick came around in a quick arc, and struck the Bear savagely on his lower leg. Surprisingly enough the creature yowled and fell over into the mud and leaves.

‘OWWWWW!’ the Bear called out. And then, ‘My knee!’ There were fearful requests that followed that the tree spirit please just leave him be . . .

‘Tree spirit?’ Sassy thought to herself. Just about ready to run from the monster, she paused. Something about the voice penetrated her panic. Careful not too come too close in case she was wrong, she called out in a hesitant voice.

‘Bingo? Is that you?’

The moon peeked through the thick clouds for a moment revealing the Bear’s face. Sassy came closer, brushing the mud and leaves from her face as best she could. ‘It’s me. Sassy.’ She bent down, offering her grimy hand to help him up. So relieved to see it was someone she knew she hugged him fiercely as he clambered up.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo was so pleased to see another hobbit that he dropped the cudgel he was clutching and submitted meekly to the hug. Still, he briefly snapped back at Sassy, "Watch what you're doing next time. That's me you're clubbin', not some ruddy bear."

He massaged the spot on his knee where Sassy's club had connected and then accepted her extended hand as she helped to pull him up. He hobbled around the thicket in circles and made sure his knee was still working. It felt stiff and sore but seemed to have no touble bearing his weight so he thought he might survive.

They finally sat on the ground under the bush and Sassy showed him how to burrow down under the leaves. Bingo had pretty much forgotten that Sassy was a girl. Their leaf burrow was at least warm and out of sight of other predators. He had already learned from Sassy that she had not seen Reggie or any of the other lads from the raft. Bingo decided that he'd best wait till morning to continue looking for his brother. He'd get some rest and awake at the first light of dawn to resume his search.

Just before drifting off to sleep, he whispered over to Sassy, "Some of the lads might ask about my knee. Maybe that should be our secret. Maybe we should tell 'em we were attacked by a big furry thing, and you and me chased him away with sticks." With that Bingo rolled over and fell asleep....

[Nurumaiel]

"Haven't, Sondo, 'pon my word," said Falco, drawing closer. His hands were in his pockets, and despite his muddy clothes, his dishevelled hair, and a certain sagging of his figure, he appeared quite casual and at ease. It had always bothered his mother. Any amount of horrible things could happen, and he would not give them a second glance. But if it came to losing his apple pie...

"Let's walk on together and look for them," said Falco. "Oh, but it's a wretched not. I'm awfully cold, but I'm sure you're feeling the same. I say, things haven't been going well, have they?" He said it casually, but he glanced at Sondo from the corner of his eye.

Sondo made no answer.

"Don't know how you fared in the water," Falco went on, light and cheery, "but I didn't do too badly at all. I hardly had the time to realise I couldn't draw a breath when I was sitting on the bank, blinking and sputtering. I got in the water long enough to realise how cold it was, though. Brrr! I wish the sun would rise to dry me off. It's wretched to get wet and stay wet."

Still Sondo said nothing. Falco looked him up and down keenly. "Say, Sondo, are you all right? You didn't hit your head or anything, did you? You're awfully quiet."

[Firefoot]

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” answered Sondo. “I guess I’m just getting tired is all.” To a casual listener his tone would have sounded nonchalant, but Sondo knew that there was almost no way that Falco could have missed the terse edge. Sondo had not missed the subtle jab, and he did not appreciate it. Falco was getting a tad too pushy.

“It is pretty late,” allowed Falco. Sondo snuck a glance sideways, wondering just what Falco was thinking. For as bad as things were going, Falco was entirely too cheerful. Sondo began mentally drawing up his guard, not showing it just yet but preparing for trouble.

“I wonder where they all are,” commented Sondo as they walked. “It’ll be near impossible to find them in this dark - we could very well walk within ten feet of someone else and not even see them. Even a bit of moon light would help.” He immediately regretted the words; it would be the perfect opening for another one of Falco’s criticisms, since the other hobbit so obviously held him responsible.

“Maybe so,” answered Falco. “Perhaps we should put off this search until morning, then? That’s probably why we haven’t seen any of them - they’ve all taken a rest.” Sondo realized that Falco wasn’t looking to pick a fight just yet - he had made his point and position clear, and left Sondo with that. A frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Was Falco hinting at something? First his warning of mutiny, and now a subtle hint that he wasn’t doing his job? Sondo felt paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the premonition.

“That makes sense,” he answered, much more easily than he felt. “We could probably find some patch of dry ground to sleep on - under a large tree or something.”

Falco squinted. “Like that one? I bet it’s big enough to be dry underneath.” They headed over to the tree, and if it wasn’t entirely dry, it wasn’t a muddy mess like most of the ground. Sondo yawned. Now that his frenzied swim and mad rush upstream were long over, his exhaustion was catching up to him.

“This’ll do,” he said, plunking down into a nook between two protruding roots, and Falco settled in similarly. Sondo was asleep in no time at all.

~*~*~*~

He awoke groggily a few hours later. His shoulders were sore, his legs felt stiff, and there was a knot in his back where he had slept on a bump. His clothes were rumpled and caked with dry mud. The previous night’s events came crashing back with astonishing clarity. He groaned softly, waking Falco, who without opening his eyes mumbled, “What time is it?”

“Early,” answered Sondo, nearly unintelligible. A rim of pink colored the dark blue sky, heralding a clear day to come. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Time to go find the others.” He rose slowly, testing his aching body. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to get some of the stiffness out. It hardly worked, but he was hardly about to go making a big show of it. Falco appeared not to be having the same problems, Sondo noticed enviously. Some hobbits had all the luck.

He heard his stomach growl, and realized that he was positively starving. Happily he recalled the apple in his pocket, and pulled it out. It was amazingly shiny, if slightly bruised, and Sondo would have eagerly devoured the whole thing... if not for Falco. Not so joyously he unsheathed his small knife and cut the apple neatly in two, careful not to cut himself though it was difficult without a good surface. He offered half to Falco, who accepted. They munched as they walked, heading first toward the river. Rather than sate his hunger, the apple only enhanced it and Sondo wished that all the food had not washed away. Luckily (in Sondo’s opinion), the apple took away the need for conversation during the short trek.

Upon reaching the river, they looked about hopefully for signs of other hobbits or the wrecked raft. They saw nothing, and after a short deliberation they agreed that the best way to go would be to travel along the river bank in hopes of finding something. They debated the direction; Sondo thought they should head north since he had travelled upstream last night and seen no one, but Falco thought that south would be better since, according to him, the raft had crashed pretty close to here and if they went very far they would be past the site of the crash and everyone ought to be downstream of that. It was not quite an argument, but Sondo did not think that it boded well for the day. In the end, they did not actually decide because both heard an unmistakable sound: laughing. The sound seemed fairly distant, but obviously it couldn’t be too far away. They hurried off in that general direction, and both noticed but did not comment upon the fact that it was a rather southerly direction.

After going a little way, they paused. Why hadn’t they found whoever it was by now? Had they missed the direction by so much? There was more light now, even if the sun was not quite up, and Sondo thought they should have seem someone. Falco, apparently thinking the same thing, said as much.

“I know,” said Sondo in simple agreement. These sentiments meant more than they realized, though, for someone had heard their voices.

“Sondo, Falco, we’re over here!” Sondo recognized the voice an instant before the lad appeared.

“Reggie! Who are you with?” Sondo asked as he and Falco approached. Thank goodness they had found someone!

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel woke up groggily, cold and alone in the darkness. He blinked, trying to remember what had happened. As he lifted himself up out of the river's water that laid around him a strange feeling passed over him. He looked around and called out names, but no one answered. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.

He had been alone before and he hadn't been afraid then, but then again he had never been alone in the dark away from the safety of the Shire and his home and bed. The only light that was illuminating the sky was the twinkling diamond stars above him. He couldn't see any moon. All he could see were even darker shadows all around him, swaying in the breeze.

His mind remembered what had happened. The raft had hit a rock and he had been loud for the first time in what seemed like forever to him. He screamed as he was flung into the water. As he was taken down the river he saw Reggie and Bingo struggling to keep their heads above the water. Samuel had tried to save them, but he had been flung against a rock and the rest was a fuzzy black dot in the masterpiece of his memory.

He rubbed his head and marvelled at the fact that he had not died. Perhaps only his memory was blocked out due to fear and other such things. Maybe he had survived somehow. Or perhaps he was dead and this is what eternity was like. He shivered at the thought. There could be no way that this was how the dead ended up. At least he hoped so for his sake.

He walked farther inland, his hands outstretched in a vain attempt to miss certain large objects. He stumbled and fell until he decided that enough was enough and laid down on his back, took a deep breath, and settled into sleep for the night.

************************************************** ***

Warm light hit his face the next morning, bringing Samuel out of his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. There were trees and some different type of rocks, but other then that Samuel had no idea where he was and where he should head off to. He walked down to the river and looked left then right, hoping that he would find someone. His ears strained for any sound of their voices, but all he could hear was the wildlife coming to life with the rise of the morning sun.

Samuel's stomach growled in protest against his thinking mind. He sighed and decided that left seemed better then right and headed along the shore line in hopes to find someone. He walked slowly in fear that he would miss seeing anyone from his group. He looked out at the river for a hope at seeing at least a part of the raft, but he found nothing.

As he walked he thought about home. Was there any chance that he would see it again? Would he ever make it back to tell his mother that he was sorry for how he treated her? He wasn't entirely sure of anything. The only thing that mattered was finding someone and getting back with the group.

[Kitanna]

No one had seen the rock in the river. There had been no time to avoid it. Everything happened so fast for Marroc, he could barely remember exactly how he got to shore. Though he did remember the cold water and the cries of his fellow hobbits.

When his head began to clear he realized he was all alone. He was laying on the shore, coughing up the water he had swallowed. He didn't hear anything from his friends. What if something horrible happened to them? He thought as he rose to his feet. His legs were shaky and he felt sick. "Is anyone there?" Marroc wanted to sound confident, but his voice cracked and came out as more of a squeak.

Marroc walked a little way downstream, hoping to find at least one of his friends. He barely made it twenty paces before his tired legs failed him. He went down on one knee. Marroc was tired, cold, wet, and hungry. He couldn't go on, not until the sun was out.

He pulled himself up once more and headed for the nearest tree. He would spend the night under its branches. He slumped down with his back to the nearest tree. He dropped his chin down and a few silent tears of frustration rolled down Marroc's cheeks before he fell into a fitful sleep.

~*~*~

A single chirping bird brought Marroc out of his nightmares. All night he dreamed of the raft hitting the rock and the hobbits tumbling into the water. He still had no idea where the rest were. Stretching out his legs, Marroc headed back to the river to get a drink of water and wipe off his dirty face.

As he splashed water on his face he thought he heard voices. They were not far off and Marroc swore one sounded like Sondo. He forgot his hunger and his aching body and headed off in the direction of the voices. He would be crushed if his mind was just playing tricks on him.

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Hey! Get up!’ Sassy wriggled out from under the blanket of leaves and poked Bingo in the back. The sun was trying desperately to stretch its own fingers of light into the tangle of elderberry limbs and leaves that had sheltered the two Hobbits during the night. ‘Sun’s almost up, Bingo. Maybe we can find the others.’ She crossed her fingers in the old ‘good-luck’ sign and whispered to herself, ‘Please let me find Sondo. She uncrossed her fingers then crossed them quickly once again. ‘And, umm, Bingo’s brother, Reggie, too.’

Sassy found a flat rock to sit on as she waited for Bingo to wake up. Her little pack was by her side, and she fished about in it, trying to see what was still usable. The cookies were a sodden mush as were the peppermint drops. She emptied the wet remains into the underbrush with a sigh. There was a packet of dried meat strips still left . . . wet, too, of course, but edible. And one badly dented apple. Most of her things were still intact in the pack, they would just need to be dried out when she had time. She patted the pockets on her vest. Some of her things in those were gone. The river had taken a handkerchief, a spare hair ribbon, a snail shell, and some smooth rocks she’d picked up for her sling. She gave a great sigh as her fingers encountered the little lump in her inner pocket – it was the little whistle her Da had carved for her from a small maple tree knot. Sassy untangled the leather thong it hung from and placed it round her neck.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Half an apple later, and a stick and a half of meat stick each, found the two Hobbits walking along the river bank looking for any evidence of the raft or their companions. The sun was just up as they neared a bend in the channel. Sassy was playing some little song on her whistle when Bingo shushed her. He pointed a finger through the clump of trees in front of them. Sassy cocked her head, straining to hear. There were voices . . . familiar voices!

One closer, one a little farther away . . .

‘Sondo!’ she squealed, grinning up at Bingo. ‘And isn’t that Reggie’s voice?’ the two took off running, eager to find their friends and brothers

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a wild looking little Hobbit that came running pell mell toward her brother. The voice certainly sounded like Sassy, and he recognized the breeches the girl was wearing (since they had been his several years ago), as well as the red color of the vest that poked out here and there amidst the muddy swirlings. But the creature had leaves and twigs firmly entwined in her mop of curls, and her face was streaked with dirt. And there on her right cheek was a large bruise and a scab.

Sassy, for he had determined it was indeed her, by her familiar grin and the whistle that bobbed against her raggedy shirt as she ran, waved wildly at him as she sped toward him. He barely had time to plant his feet for the impact when her body hit him and she wrapped her arms as far as she could about his waist, burying her snuffly face against his chest. She stepped back and looked up at her big brother with relief. A few tears had streaked her cheeks, but she wiped them away, smearing her face further.

'Oh, Bunnymuggins,' she sighed, hugging him fiercely once more. 'I'm so happy we found you!'

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel stopped short as the sound of familiar voices wafted to his ears. A smile spread across his face as he broke into a run in the direction that they were coming from.

"Sondo? Reggie? Anyone?" Samuel called as he continued to make his through the trees. His heart raced faster then he thought could be possible at the prospect of seeing familiar faces and no longer being alone with his thoughts and the dark. He kept going, even though he was starting to feel very tired from the running. The thought of being together again with the group was far more important then anything else to Samuel at this moment in time.

He broke through a patch of trees and there before him was Sondo, Bingo, and Sassy running in the other direction.

"Hey where are you going?" Samuel asked as he ran after them.

[Nurumaiel]

Bunnymuggins!

Falco snorted. There stood their leader, their gloriously capable leader. Leader Bunnymuggins. It was too absurd. He, Falco, had a sister, and she never called him ridiculous names. Honestly... if a hobbit lad was capable of acquiring himself a nickname like Bunnymuggins, was he capable of being a leader? Bunnymuggins indeed!

Falco decided that the best thing to do -for the present- was pretend he hadn't noticed, and turn away from Sassy's emotional scene which was no doubt embarrassing her brother to a very high degree. But before he turned to exchange a few light words to Reggie as a way of discreetly stepping out, he could not resist giving Sondo a pitying, and rather condescending, smile.

Leader Bunnymuggins, indeed!

[Boromir88]

“Reggie! Who are you with?” Rory recognized the voice to be Sondo's. Reggies opened his mouth beginning to reply, but before he could, another voice answered "Rory." Reggie and Rory appeared out of the wooded area and looked extremely tired and hungry. Rory collapsed to the ground, unable to stand any longer. Besides some berries he found in the morning, he had not eaten anything since his apple in the morning.

Falco gave Rory some water to get him a little refreshed, enough to give him strength again. "What are we going to do about breakfast?" Rory asked.

"Let's wait and find everyone first, we'll worry about eating later." Sondo said a little irritably. Despite Rory's hunger, he agreed, getting everyone together was more important right now. Rory went by the river and washed his face, and took a sip, he gagged. I might want to boil this first, he thought.

The four hobbits began to search for more signs of the other lads. They couldn't find anything. Rory turned around and suddenly saw Sassy running up to them as fast as she could. Bingo was there too! Rory was glad to see Sassy, eventhough he didn't really care for...girls. No matter how much he disliked some of the hobbits, back in the Shire, he never wished anything bad to happen to them.

Sassy rushed passed Rory, Reggie, and Falco, and stopped instantly in front of Sondo. "Oh Bunnymuggins I'm so glad to see you!" she shouted with joy, and lunged at him, embracing him. Falco let out a snort, Rory couldn't contain himself, he started laughing uproariously. He quickly covered his mouth.

[Firefoot]

Sondo froze in the act of obligingly returning Sassy’s hug. He could feel his ears heat. He had been relieved to see her, if not so thrilled as she, but now the sentiment was buried deep in the recesses of his mind. That despicable nickname!

“Indeed,” answered Sondo sardonically. The sarcasm was lost on the elated Sassy, however. Why, oh, why, oh, why! Why could she not have been stranded on the other bank? Was she really so traumatized by the event? It had been several years since Sassy had last used the horrid nickname, and even more than that since he had endured it with good humor. Why now? And in front of his friends, no less! He knew they had heard; it was evident from their expressions. His icy glare met the eyes of each hobbit, daring them to say something or laugh out loud (or in Rory’s case, to continue laughing). Most averted their eyes and Rory stopped laughing, though many were unable to fully wipe the traces of amusement off their faces - but not Falco. A slow smile spread across his lips. Sondo set his jaw and raised his chin slightly. Then he very deliberately turned his attention back to Sassy. Falco, apparently unaffected, continued about his own business.

Sondo gently removed her arms from around his waist. She looked up at his face with a smile. He did not match it; rather, his brown eyes, usually full of fun, looked down at her with a gaze hard as steel. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Sassafras Brandybuck?” he asked, so lowly that none save Sassy could hear him. It was enough, and without another word he stepped around her so that she was no longer in front of him but to the side and slightly behind him.

Sondo looked about him. Somehow every single one of the hobbits had managed to reunite, looking rather rumpled, hungry, and perhaps tired but none the worse for wear, really. It was time to move on. He had not previously considered their next path, but he had to decide now. They were without supplies and lost, outside the Shire. He wondered how they had all landed on the eastern bank - the wrong bank! He had never looked very closely at a map, and certainly not one that showed more than the Shire, and he had no idea where they might be. Somewhere north of Sarn Ford, he thought, but how far? It could be one mile or forty! If they were close, that would prove the best plan of action, but barring that knowledge the only sensible path would be to start heading north, back home. He wondered how long it would take to get back. Not too long, he hoped.

Sondo opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped. Would they still listen to him? Could they still respect him as leader - Leader Bunnymuggins who had crashed the raft? What if they decided a new leader was in order? They wouldn’t do that, he assured himself, and without pausing to think on the matter further, he did speak up.

“Hey, everyone,” he said. They looked up - at least they were listening. “Obviously, we don’t have a raft anymore, or any of the supplies on it. At least we have only been out here three days - we shouldn’t have such a long path home. As for food, well, we’ll have to find something as we go. We can probably catch some small game, and maybe we’ll be able to find some early fruits. I figure that if we follow the river north, we’ll be home before too long.” There were sighs and groans, but mostly they followed his logic, and there were nods too. Heartened, Sondo said, “We should probably get going, then.” He began to start off, and hobbits followed, but he stopped abruptly at a voice behind him.

“Hey, Sondo?” He could practically hear the “Bunnymuggins.” “Are you sure you’ve covered all your options?” It was Falco. Sondo was in no mood to be contested.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” snapped Sondo.

[Nurumaiel]

"Well, to be blunt," said Falco, with no hint of apology in his voice for being so, "I think it's rather rotten to give up like this. Most of us had a lot of trouble getting away from our families... at least, I know I did, and I had to sacrifice to do it." He thought of the apple pie. "I think it's a downright shame that we should have to go home, where I know there'll be a licking for me when my father finds out, and not have done anything... except nearly drown."

Sondo opened his mouth to speak, but Falco went on.

"It's my idea that we should head along towards Sarn Ford," he said. "It shouldn't take us dreadfully long to get there, and we can attempt to get enough supplies to equip us for the trip home... because, you know, Sondo, I for one am not going home to punishment when I haven't even had my fun yet.

"And I'm not trying to say that you're not capable of leading us," he added, his tone conveying doubt that he actually meant it, "but I think you have this all wrong."

[Firefoot]

Sondo glared at Falco. Had he been a dog, his hackles would have been up and his teeth bared. As it was, he drew himself up, trying to maintain any sense of command that he ever had. It was one thing for Falco to disclose his concerns privately, but this! Who was he to say such things?

Sondo made a sarcastic show of considering Falco's idea. "Okay, let's say we do head south. Do you know when we would reach Sarn Ford? It could be five miles or fifty for all we know. Saying it's fairly close and we make it there. You say we can get supplies. How? Steal them? I don't have any money, and I doubt anyone does anymore. And what happens if we head south and don't come upon Sarn Ford?" Falco remained silent, but had a stubborn look on his face. "Then what?" Sondo pressed, but did not wait for an answer. "At least if we head north, we know that we will be heading home. Even with the current being what it is, we were only sailing for three days - and those not even full days. It shouldn't take us terribly long to get home.

"Honestly, Falco, do you think I want to go home now? If we could have our raft back and some supplies, don't you think I would be on it in a heartbeat? But we don't. If there were any chance of going on, don't you think I would take it? But heading south, we go farther and farther from familiar lands. We have no supplies left, and unless you have some proposed way to go on without food, blankets, rope, and everything else that was on that raft, I see no logical alternatives. I don't know about you, but I heard wolves last night. As long as we are not sailing the river, we are much more vulnerable. It's too risky to try and head south.

"And who knows?" he added more softly, wistfully. "Maybe there's still an adventure waiting out there for us. Maybe this will even be more of an adventure, now that we have nothing but our wits to use." His voice hardened again, taking on the firm, comfortable tone of command. "We have nothing but ourselves to depend on now. You are either with us or against us, Falco. We head north."

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy’s heart fell to her toes when she realized what she’d said. It had felt so good to see Sondo that all remembrances of her two old promises to him had completely fled her memory.

Never hug him in public.

Never . . . never call him Bunnymuggins!

Thorns and nettles! she muttered to herself. It was going to be harder than ever now to get on the good side of her brother.

Even worse, the boys were making fun of him, either with outright laughing or sneaking little snickers. And that Falco! What a mean one he was proving to be. He was yapping on about how Sondo was wrong. And not only wrong but a bad leader to boot. It was all Sassy could do to keep herself from punching him in the belly. She had just enough restraint to know that Sondo would be in an even worse position if she did that.

She screwed up her grimy little face and glared at Falco. He says one more bad thing to my brother she swore silently to herself and I’ll fix him good . . . real good . . .

Sassy worked up a good sized gobbet though her mouth was quite dry, and spit on the dirt at her feet . . . sealing her little vow.

[Nurumaiel]

Oh, so this was how Sondo took his advice, was it? With hard, cold, unfriendly words. Falco had struggled to the point of exhaustion to give advice in a manner that was firm yet preserving of friendliness. Sondo had... had... had... and those last words of his. For them or against them? Sondo sounded more like a mutineer than Falco had ever even considered sounding.

Falco flung back his head and looked Sondo squarely in the eye. "If you put it that way, Sondo," he said, in regular tones but with a glint in his eye, "then I'll tell you that I'm against you. Not against the company, but against you, and you alone. I've no doubt that they have some sense in their heads yet, and the water has dimmed their brains too much." These harsh words, rather than diminish his anger, increased it, and he went on in a more fiery tone.

"You're accustomed to being the leader, Sondo Brandybuck, and I generally follow you because you're sensible. But when you go into an absurdity like this, the absurdity of going home to get whipped and beaten and sent into disgrace for weeks, I lose all patience... and all respect, as well. I won't follow a leader who can't lead. And you, Sondo Brandybuck, can't lead."

He straightened himself up, and glowered into Sondo's eyes for a few moments. "Now I've had my say, and I've given you my honest opinion of your decisions and of you. I'm going south now, because as it so happens I know just how to get supplies without stooping to steal. You might steal, because you're plans always go wrong, but I won't, because mine always go right." He turned abruptly then, and began to walk south, his back defiantly turned to Sondo.

He had not gone a few yards, however, before he turned again and, with scorn and contempt and mockery lashing in his voice, he added: "Wolves my foot!"

[Firefoot]

Sondo's eyes blazed at Falco. Couldn't lead, couldn't he? How many times had he schemed up interesting things to do on lazy days? How many times had he come up with their ideas and plans, most of which worked out brilliantly? How many times had he gotten them out of scrapes? And this was what Falco gave him? No longer did he doubt himself, for he saw that all along it had been Falco's grand idea to steal command of the group from him! Falco was just jealous that Sondo could lead and he couldn't!

"So do you, Falco, think that you could do a better job than me?" challenged Sondo, knowing full well the answer. Falco apparently decided that it was beneath him to respond, and Sondo had his answer in the other hobbit's retreating figure.

"You know what I think, Falco Brandybuck?" Sondo called out. "I think you are scared. Scared to go back home, scared to admit even you can't go on without supplies, scared to face me, and most of all, scared that you just wouldn't be as good a leader as you want to be." Falco stiffened. "And you know what else, Falco? All those years I thought you were my friend. But I can't see now that that's the case, because then you wouldn't be off and leaving us. Our only hope now is in unity, but you can't seem to see that. Go on, leave, if that's what you want. But know that even if you don't value friendship, I do. You're welcome back anytime, once you realize that if we stick together we can accomplish anything. If we all struck off on our own, we would be helpless, but together we are stronger. You said that my plans never work, Falco, but they have - countless times. Because all of us stuck together."

Sondo had realized somewhere in the middle of this fool argument that he was in danger of losing the rest of the band as well. Falco, he had nothing to lose. Sondo had everything, and so, though none of the heat had left his remarks, he had begun using his head again.

"You were honest with me, and I'm being honest with you," continued Sondo. "I think you're making a mistake. But go or stay, it's your choice."

[Encaitare]

"I think you're making a mistake. But go or stay, it's your choice," said Sondo.

Reggie shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable amidst the arguing. Sondo was making some good points... but then, so was Falco. He had listened silently for the whole of their war of words, and now was realizing that they were bound to split.

If he went with Sondo he would get home a lot sooner, which meant getting punished sooner, if anyone thought to discipline him, that was. If he went with Falco, there would be fine adventures. Surprisingly, he had not lost his optimistic view of traveling, even with all that had happened. The fear he had felt the previous night had left him completely, and now being dumped twice into the drink seemed kind of funny, the kind of thing you would tell other hobbits while they looked at you in incredulous admiration. Wasn't that what he had come for: adventures?

It wasn't what he had heard Falco talking about a couple of days before. It wasn't mutiny. It was just a choice. He was free to do what he wanted -- and why shouldn't he be? Why didn't anyone want to have fun anymore? Surely not everything could go wrong.

Falco and Sondo were looking about expectantly, as if waiting for someone to back up one of their arguments.

"Well?" said Sondo. "I hope none of you are going to listen to this!"

"I want to keep going south," said Reggie quietly. Everyone turned to look at him; under the many pairs of eyes he felt nervous, but he kept talking. "I don't see the point of turning back now just because a couple of things have gone wrong. Things will get better," he told the others hopefully.

He glanced over at Bingo to see that his brother was giving him a look of gentle disapproval. Suddenly he felt a little guilty for his choice... it seemed that Bingo preferred to go with Sondo.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo felt his heart shrivel up as he listened to the bickering between Sondo and Falco, and heard his own brother's preference to continue south to the Ford. The one thing he'd wanted from this trip was to become close friends with the rest of the lads. The part about going on an adventure was fun, but not the real heart of the thing as far as Bingo was concerned. Now it looked as if the whole group might split up in petty squabbles and fights. This was not what he'd hoped for or expected. He would prefer to be a peacemaker, and get the two lads to come to some agreement, but he had a sinking feeling that such an attempt would never work. He'd have to take a stand.

Whether they continued south to the Ford or went back to Buckland was not particularly important to Bingo. Either way would be fine. But the one thing that did upset him was to see Falco showing so much disloyalty to a friend. This trip had been Sondo's idea. He knew Sondo had put in a lot of time and effort planning and getting things right. They had all promised to follow Sondo's lead. The events of the day had not been pleasant. But who knew it was going to rain so hard? Bad times and bad things happened to everybody. Of all people, Bingo knew that. When their parents had died he thought at first that he would be next to shrivel up and die. But he'd gotten though it. He'd gotten through it by sticking to his brother and the rest of his Brandybuck kinfolk, as irritating and wrong as they could be sometimes. That was the right thing to do.

Glancing at Reggie, but speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, Bingo shook his head, "It wouldn't be right. When we started this trip, we all agreed that Sondo should be the leader. What kind of hobbits would we be if we went back on our word? Maybe Falco is right about heading south, and maybe he isn't. And maybe some of us will get whipped when we get home. We knew that when we started. But all that's not what's most important. I'm no turncoat, and I don't go back on a promise. I don't desert my friends just because they're in a little trouble, or it seems like more fun to run off and do something else. I'm sure Falco doesn't really mean it, but that's what he's asking us to do. I mean, what if we go with Falco and things get tough? Will we decide to desert him too?"

Bingo glanced hastily over at Falco and saw a very unpleasant look on his face. Then he turned back to Reggie. "You're my brother, and I love you with all my heart. But I hope you'll agree to stay with Sondo wherever he decides to go. It's your choice, and the last thing I want to happen is for us to split up. But deserting Sondo just isn't right."

[Nurumaiel]

Falco heard Bingo's words, and resented them. Disloyalty? Was one obliged to follow a leader who was leading them into disaster after disaster? And what was all this about a promise? Sondo must have had them promise to follow him as leader when the meeting where they first decided on this adventure was at an end. It would be just like Sondo to ensure by such means that nobody took his position of power. He, Falco, had promised no such thing. He had had to leave before the meeting was over because his mother was looking for him. Perhaps the others were breaking a promise, but he was certainly not.

He sat down on a convenient tree stump, folded his arms, and glowered at the company gathered about Sondo. "I'm not waiting very long!" he called. "Either you come with me or you don't, but I'm not going home. Go home and get whipped if you want, or come along with me and have an adventure." His eyes narrowed further. "I thought at least a few of you had some courage!" he said. "Am I the only one who can stand the thought of going to Sarn Ford? Is it really so terrifying as that?"

He stood up and turned his eyes southwards down the river. "Come with me or go with Sondo, but make up your mind quickly. I can't wait until night."

[Child of the 7th Age]

With a shrug of his shoulders, Bingo publicly announced, "Sorry Falco. You know how I feel. I'm sticking with Sondo. But good luck to you. I hope things work out."

With that final pronouncement, Bingo gestured for his brother to come over and speak privately with him. Standing up to his full height, Bingo put an arm around Reggie's waist and tried to make his voice sound as authoratative as he could. "Have you decided what to do, little brother? Of course, you're free to make your own choice. Only I hope you'll decide to stick with me. I've always looked out for you pretty well in the past, and I don't mean to stop doing that now."

There was an awkward silence before Reggie responded.

***************************

Encaitare's post for Reggie:

Well. How was he supposed to react to that?

Reggie loved his brother more than anyone, and part of the reason he had come on the trip was to be with him. But what was this tone Bingo was taking with him? He was acting protectively as he often did, but now it seemed stiflingly domineering.

"Look," he began. "I don't want to go home, not yet, anyway. There's so much more we could see, and places to go..."

"And dangers to be found," said Bingo. Under his gaze, Reggie felt that guilt once more. But, then, why should he always have to follow his brother everywhere? That was how it had started, but not how it had to continue.

He pulled away from Bingo. "I'm not a child, Bingo; I'm almost as old as you. You don't have to act like I need looking after all the time. We've gotten along just fine for years without anyone minding us, and I can do just fine by myself too." Bingo opened his mouth to say something, but Reggie did not allow him to do so. "It's not about Sondo or Falco," he said quietly but intensely, not wanted to draw the others' attention. "It's about doing what we want to do. And I want to go to Sarn Ford."

********************

Bingo's post

"I know you're not a child anymore. I didn't mean it like that. But I thought you'd want to stick together. That's what brothers do. If you want to go to Sarn Ford so badly, I won't be the one to stop you. Just remember though, if you get in any kind of trouble, I'll still be here and ready to help." Bingo stuck his hands deep in his pockets and purposely walked over to where Sassy was standing, determined to try and ignore his brother as much as possible so that Reggie would not notice how much his own feelings had been hurt.

[Boromir88]

Rory was as much torn between Sondo and Falco as the other hobbits, maybe even more so than the others. He realized that so far the trip has been a disaster, only one problem after the next, and with Sondo taking on that responsibility of leader, he needs to be held responsible. Rory also realized that in those moments of trouble it was Sondo who pulled everyone together to get them out of it. That is what you call being a good leader, Rory thought, being able to get your crew through the rough waters...that is what Sondo did.

Rory's thought shifted over to Falco's. If I do go home, I'm only going to get in trouble. Falco is promising adventure and fortune, and saying if you go with Sondo, you will only be punished and humiliated. Falco was offering a grand thing, adventure...what the hobbits set out to do in the first place. All hope of adventure had left Rory, he soon found himself shouting out amongst the clammer making sure he was heard, "I don't know about you, but if we do go home, yes we all will be whipped and punished, but better then prancing off to certain death!" He turned to Sondo, "I go home with you on one condition. Ever since this adventure started you made yourself leader, ignoring our demands to pull over and rest, or to not fight the rapids. To me, good leadership also means listening to your crew, and not running things like a dictator, which is what you've done. If you can promise that you will consider, or even accept, our advice, then I will join you. If not I go with Falco."

[Kitanna]

"I think you're making a mistake. But go or stay, it's your choice." Sondo said to Falco.

Marroc had found the others and was wishing now he was still lost. They were so divided now. Falco was accusing Sondo of being a bad leader and Marroc couldn't see it. Sondo didn't control the weather, it wasn't his fault the rain had picked up. No, none of them had seen that rock. It was as much their fault the raft crashed as it was Sondo's.

"Come with me or go with Sondo, but make up your mind quickly. I can't wait until night." Falco said. Marroc was looking around, some of the hobbits were actually considering following Falco to Sarn Ford.

Well Marroc would not go. No, he owned it to Sondo to stay. He didn't care if he was punished for leaving. Who knows what will happen on the way to Sarn Ford, he thought.

Now Rory was giving Sondo an ultimatum. Either Sondo listen better to their suggestions or he went with Falco. Upset and frustrated with everyone's disloyalty to Sondo Marroc spoke up. "We can't blame Sondo for all our misfortunes. He can't control everything little thing that happens, especially the weather. He was not the one who made it rain so hard yesterday. We shouldn't abandon him because of these misfortunes, we shouldn't break up at all. I will not leave Sondo, even if that means being whipped when I get back. I owe it to him to stay." Marroc took a step closer to Sondo and Bingo.

[Firefoot]

Sondo looked over Rory appraisingly. His temper was up, and listening to the talk swirl about him was making him worried. Some, like Bingo and Marroc, were clearly with him, but others, most notably Reggie, were set on going to Sarn Ford with Falco. This would never do! He had to keep them together, one way or another. And yet... Rory's comments stung, a little. So now he was a dictator?

"Is that what you think?" asked Sondo hotly. But he did not give Rory a chance to answer before going on. "Well, I suppose a dictator is better than 'can't lead.'" He laughed shortly, humorlessly. "As for hearing your opinions, I've always been open to that. And if it makes good sense, I'll agree. But all anyone does is complain or yell." He shrugged. His pride, already wounded, refused to let him give any more than that. "We need to stick together, Rory, which is what I want. But, blast, Falco's got everyone taking sides! It's senseless!" He hoped he had Rory won over, but Rory was not his biggest concern. He had little hope that he would win Falco over, but he would go down fighting, and maybe, just maybe, Sondo would persuade the rest of them to come with him.

"Falco," he said. "You still have not explained one thing. Just how do you plan on getting supplies at Sarn Ford? Not steal, you claim. But even if you do have money, don't you think that word will have reached Sarn Ford that we've all gone missing? Don't you think that you'll be stopped and sent home? And I daresay, I'd like to be there when you explain how it is that only a handful of you made it to Sarn Ford.

"And as for adventure," he continued, directing the comment toward the whole group though it was said as if to Falco, "Perhaps you misunderstand my intent. Just because we head northward does not mean the end of adventure. Plans are flexible - if things are going well, it may well be that we decide to strike out eastward and come home from a more round-about way. I'm sure that there is some kind of adventure out there, no matter what direction we head." He shrugged again, but there was a light in his eyes and a touch of passion in his voice. The idea of possibly going eastward eventually delighted him. Truth be told, he wanted to go home no more than did Falco, if for different reasons - he could take a whipping, if that's what it came down to, but he did not want to go back to the confines of Brandy Hall. "You think that I'm slinking home defeated. But I'm not. If there is adventure out there to be found, I will find it - but not by heading out blindly. There are people who die in adventures, too, you know - I'm not going to be one of them."

[Nurumaiel]

Sondo's argument made sense, though, of course, the part about dying in adventures was all rot. Nobody was going to die, whether they went north, south, east, or west. Aside from the dying bit, though, it was reasonable, and believeable. They could still have adventure on the way home, especially if they went slightly eastwards. But rather than reconcile Falco to returning home, it irked him more. What if the other boys saw the sense in what Sondo was saying and he gained more supporters? And Falco was a stubborn lad. He had set his mind on going south. South he would go.

Maybe they would be sent home from Sarn Ford, maybe they wouldn't. Falco's cousin who lived there would be willing to lend them supplies, and he wasn't a very bad sort of fellow... maybe he'd sympathise with them. And they could have the adventure they'd planned for.

Falco set his lips in a firm line. He would not give in. He would not. He contrived to make his face one of contempt and superiority, and considered that sufficient answer to Sondo's words. He said nothing.

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel just stood and watched. No one had really noticed that he was there and now there was a huge fight over who should lead. Yes, it was true that they had had two accidents since the beginning of this journey, but that didn't necessarily mean that Sondo was a bad leader. The first accident wasn't even Sondo's fault. It had been entirely Samuel's and everyone knew it. Besides, a rock in the river is no one's fault. It wasn't as if Sondo had placed it there on purpose.

He just stood and watched, unable to bring up any words. He was so unsure of how to even come into the topic. He was the blunt one most of the time, but since his realization that he was far more then just plainly blunt he just didn't want to step on anyones toes. He wanted to be a part of the team, but the team was now falling apart.

"Perhaps we should have a vote on who should be our new leader. But before we do allow me to speak. If you are going to blame the two accidents on Sondo then let's just stop and think a second. The first was purely my fault. We all know it and we don't have to go there. The apologizes have been said and everything else. Second, what did you except? It's a river. Did all of you think that Sondo would have known the entire lay of the river? Think about this people. Just because we lost our raft on a rock doesn't mean anything. And it defiantely does not mean that Sondo is a bad leader. What is wrong with you all? The sign of any danger and you want to point fingers?! We are suppose to be a group, a team in this journey. Yet you all want to just ditch this endeavor! What did you except this would be all about? Of course it is dangerous! Of course we are taking a risk! But that is what this journey is all about! Adventure! Danger! Excitement! If you can't take this then no leader will be good enough for you. Just think about that as you alienate Sondo. IF IT WASN'T FOR HIM NONE OF US WOULD HAVE STARTED OUT ON THE BIGGEST ADVENTURE OF OUR LIVES!"

Finished with what he had to say, he sat down next to a tree and crossed his arms.

"I have said my peace. It is your decision what you want to decide. It doesn't matter, but my decision is that Sondo is the best and I will follow him wherever he leads."

[Nurumaiel]

Sondo was the best?

Tears of frustration leapt into Falco's eyes before he could stop them. He averted his face from the group. He would not let them see those tears. He would never let them see those tears.

Sondo was the best. It was always the same. Everything they did back home revolved around that fact. Sondo was the best. He should be our leader. Was Falco never right? He strived so hard to do something worthy of admiration. He wanted to be a leader like Sondo was. But whenever he came up with something, even if it was a good idea, it was considered a bad, bad idea if it opposed what Sondo wanted. Because Sondo was the best.

They always said Sondo was the best! What about the time they had been sailing their wooden boats in the river? They had worked so hard to make those little boats, and then Sondo had wanted to sail them in the rougher part of the river where there were more rapids. It would be more exciting, he had said. Falco had adored that little boat he owned. His older brother had helped him make it. He had tried to protest that the rapids might harm the boats, but the boys had all turned against him. Sondo was their leader, they said. He knew what he was doing. He was always right. He was the best. We'll do what he says. And the boats had been pounded on the rocks. Falco's had been battered and beaten until at last it disappeared into the wild tumult of water.

All because Sondo was the best.

They never listened to him. They never would. He would have to follow all his life, whether the plan be good or bad. He could never lead. He could never win admiration from the boys. Sondo was the best. Sondo was the best. Sondo was always the best.

Falco whirled to the group, brushing at his eyes and struggling to keep his voice even and free of breaking. "I'm leaving now," he said. "If anyone is coming with me, come along now. If you're not... go home with Sondo."

After all, Falco added bitterly to himself, Sondo was the best.

[Encaitare]

Reggie watched everyone stepping towards Sondo, and felt uneasy. He wondered if perhaps they knew something he didn't, wondered if perhaps it wouldn't be so bad an idea to just join the rest of them. But, then it would seem like he was just giving in to the majority, which was not what he wanted either. He wanted fun and adventures; he wanted to go somewhere he had never been before.

Bingo's last words to him had not helped. He was being so kind to him, perhaps kinder than Reggie deserved. I'll still be here and ready to help, he had said. But that wasn't what he was supposed to say! He should have said, Yes, Reggie, you are a child -- you're my little brother and you're coming with me, and that's final. Then Reggie would have had every reason to be resentful, and part ways without regret. But that wouldn't have been like Bingo at all, anyway. He thought he had seen a glimpse of hurt in his brother's eyes as he turned away, and he felt sorry about it -- but he didn't want to be sorry! What did he have to be sorry for? For wanting to do something on his own for once?

Really struggling within himself, Reggie felt as though he might begin to cry. This was absolutely unthinkable; it would only prove that he was still some sort of baby.

"I'm leaving now," Falco was saying, his voice sounding a little strange. "If anyone is coming with me, come along now. If you're not... go home with Sondo." Reggie looked at the other boys. They all stayed where they were. Bingo would not meet his eyes.

In frustration, Reggie turned quickly and joined Falco. They began to leave the others. I will not look back, Reggie thought. I will not, I must not...

But he did. Bingo was still looking at the ground.

[Firefoot]

Sondo said nothing for a moment as he watched them leave. In the end, he was not surprised, and the disappointment he felt was tempered with triumph. He knew he had won the argument, and Sondo now figured that Falco had had in mind all along to leave, though preferably with a larger following. Far more hobbits than had left with Falco had sided with him, some with quiet loyalty and others with bold exclamations. Ultimately, leadership still belonged to him, and he drew from that.

"Well," he said. "I guess that's that. We've got to be heading on as well, but I don't think we need to be in much of a hurry. If they don't reach Sarn Ford soon, they may decide to come back after us." He doubted it, but as long as there was that hope, Sondo thought that he would have an easier time keeping up the morale. Tricky as that may be, Sondo had set high importance on it, especially in these coming days.

"But before we get going, I want to take a quick inventory of supplies. All that I have left is my knife. Do any of you have any food? Rope? Anything?" They pooled their resources, and, as Sondo expected there was not much to be had. About half had some kind of weapon, and among all of them there was only enough food for each of them to have a meal, and most of that came from the pack Sassy had managed to keep. Other than that, there were only a few odds and ends: fishhooks without line (though there were some short pieces of string), a spare button, an unusually colored stone, and the like.

"Maybe we'll catch some fish for dinner," said Sondo in an attempt to be positive. "We have some stuff here; we'll get by." Everything disappeared back into pockets, and without further deliberation they headed north. If any had regrets about the path they'd chosen they kept quiet; for better or for worse, their loyalties and desires had been evaluated, their choices made, and their lots cast.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam watched as Falco walked off with several others. In his mind this was not how things should be. They were a group and we wanted to stay a group. Besides they were only hobbits and that alone was not a great thing. Any one could come up and hurt them for just being hobbits.

Sam leaned over to Sondo and said, "I shall be back," before running after Falco. As soon as he caught up to him, he whipped the young lad around and looked him square in the eyes.

"What is wrong with you Falco? I understand wanting to be a leader. That I have always wanted, yet have never really told anyone. A good leader understands danger. The dangers of going by yourselves without protection, supplies, and other things is a suicide mission. Is that what you are leading these hobbits into? A suicide mission. You must think about that. I have nothing against you, Falco. None whatsoever. The only thing that I fear with you is your inexperience. Do not allow that to be your downfall, Falco. Just my words of wisdom. Take them or leave them. It is your choice. Good luck to you."

Sam walked away, hoping that his words would strike in Falco's heart and remain there, helping him in his leadership.

[Firefoot]

Sondo led the way upriver, mostly occupied with his own thoughts. Now that his temper had cooled off, he was able to rationally think through his argument with Falco. He realized, though he would never admit it, that he had said some things that would further push Falco into breaking away. Perhaps he could have been more considerate to Falco’s opinions - or maybe not. Falco had been downright insulting, saying that he couldn’t lead among other things. Though it was the first time Falco had told him so out loud, Sondo could not help but wonder whether Falco had felt that way for quite some time. To tell the truth, Falco’s comments had hurt. They still did, in fact, for though he was confident in himself, even arrogant, sometimes, the opinions of his friends did matter to him. And he did value his friendships; now he could see almost no way that he and Falco could ever make peace between them. After so publically denouncing him as leader, Sondo doubted that Falco would ever follow him again, and Sondo would certainly never follow another. They really were alike, Sondo mused. It was only that he had not only the ideas and the daring to carry them out, but also the persuasiveness to get others to go along with him. Falco had never really had the ideas, and so the hobbits naturally followed him. Sure, Falco protested occasionally, but he usually ended up going along with everyone else. But not this time. Never before had the two come to an out and out fight, and it was a sore blow to Sondo.

With a soft sigh, Sondo tried to put the thoughts out of mind. It was over and done with now, and there would be nothing to do about it until the two of them met again. If then. But with nothing else to occupy his mind, he kept coming back to the same old regretful thoughts. If he had the opportunity he would prefer talking with someone, but the remaining hobbits were either chatting quietly in pairs or similarly concerned only with their own thoughts. There were some who seemed perfectly content to make the best of the situation, smiling and even laughing on occasion.

Even so, their going was slow. Originally they had planned to keep to the river bank and so follow the Brandywine north. However, this idea was soon abandoned as the bank proved steep and uneven in footing, not to mention muddy. They had switched to walking in the forest, keeping the river close on their left and in sight. The ground was similarly muddy and uneven and the undergrowth thick so that they had to watch their steps so as not to trip. It was hardly better than walking along the riverbank.

It was nearing noon when Sondo started to get hungry, and he called for them to stop for lunch before anyone started complaining. He did not think that they would, after such a morning, but he didn’t care to find out. They had been travelling for around four hours now, but Sondo knew they had not covered very much ground. None of them had had much sleep, and some had not even eaten more than a full meal’s worth since yesterday’s breakfast. A weak attempt was made to preserve what food they had, but all were hungry and their supplies much diminished. Sondo reckoned that they might have enough for one more meal, but it was doubtful. They did not stop long and continued once everyone had finished. They would have to stop earlier that night in order to (hopefully) catch some fish.

They had barely started out again when Sondo’s mood began to pick up again, as it inevitably did if there was anything to be cheerful about. Sure, they had lost a couple members of their band and they were heading home, but there was more to come. They were down but not out, and Sondo intended to enjoy himself. He began to hum a merry tune, and as he recalled the words he began to sing. He was not the most musical person, but he could carry a tune well enough and the words and melody were both well known. After the first verse he was joined by a few more voices. It was a right good song for adventuring, though not without typical hobbitish references to food and drink, and after the final rousing chorus Sondo felt himself grinning. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy followed along behind Sondo and the remaining companions. She felt relieved in a way that Falco had gone off on his own. It was a guilty sort of relief, but it had taken her brother’s attention off her mistake in blurting out his old nickname, and it gave her a sort of ‘place’ in this new little group. After all, they had all stuck by Sondo – the boys and her.

They were all tired, but Sondo set a fair pace. She figured he had some plan to get them to a good place to spend the night and find something to eat. ‘Speaking of which,’ she thought to herself, ‘maybe there’s something I can find to help out.’ Taking her pack from her back, she opened the top flap and began to fish through it.

The food was all gone. She and Bingo had finished off the meat strips as they made their way back to the group. The few cookies she had brought were in soaked crumbles and the peppermint drops were all dissolved, leaving a sticky mess in the bottom of her pack. A number of the items in the big compartment of the pack were gone, washed out by the surging river water. But the things in the side pockets were all still there; their flaps tightly tied by her were now quite difficult to undo. The fishing line from her uncle was still there in one pocket as were some of the hooks she’d borrowed. A couple of snares for coneys were wadded at the bottom of another. And her Da’s filet knife. She heaved a sigh of relief when she found it secure in one of the back pockets.

Her last thing to investigate was her vest pockets. In the lower right hand one, still buttoned, was her little sling. But all her smooth little rocks she used in it were gone. She pulled her pack open again and felt about for the little leather pouch she kept it in. Perhaps she’d missed it, she thought, on her first look through. Hope as she might, though, it simply wasn’t there.

Looking up, she saw she’d fallen a little behind the others during her inventory taking. She could hear they'd started singing a cheerful song. Sassy put her pack hurriedly on her back and went running to catch up. It took longer than she expected as she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her and to the sides, stopping now and then when some promising looking rocks beckoned.

[Encaitare]

Nurumaiel's post:

Falco trod along with his eyes fixed on the ground, and his eyes flashing first with anger, and then with worry. He was still upset about the split of the group, and the fact that he had gained only one supporter. And, of course, the fact that Sondo was the best. That still hurt. It had been hurting for a long time, and would continue to hurt. But worry also assailed him. They had been trudging along for sometime, and had in fact already made one camp, but there was no sight of Sarn Ford. Falco had expected to reach it the evening he set out, but it was almost a day later, and there was no hint that they were drawing close. No sign pointed and informed them that Sarn Ford was close, and no hobbit wandered about to give them directions. Clearly they were still in a wilderness.

"Is it almost suppertime?"

Falco looked up. Reggie had tagged along faithfully with him, though he hadn't said much. Falco suspected that the boy was still feeling rather badly about having to split with his brother, and so he had exerted himself to show Reggie a special sort of kindness, and for more than one reason. The first reason was to comfort Reggie and distract his mind from the parting with his brother, and the second reason was to show his one follower that he was a kind, compassionate leader who cared about the feelings of those under his command. But Falco could not deny that he was getting tired of being kind and compassionate, and was feeling quite snappy at an unforseen happening.

"Yes, I think it's quite suppertime," he said, and promptly sat down. Gesturing for Reggie to do the same, he cleared his throat and said. "Er... now, Reggie, I have something to tell you. We lost most of our supplies, as you know, and we've been dining off what I have in my pack. But the fact is, it's taking longer to reach Sarn Ford than I had thought, and we're running low on food." Reggie said nothing, but his look clearly implied that he was waiting for more. Falco went on, saying: "Well, then, Reggie, I suppose I'd better be blunt. The fact of the matter is, we're clean out of food. But," and he quickened his words so Reggie could not speak till he was through, "that doesn't matter, because we're almost to Sarn Ford, I'm sure of it. We've gone to bed without supper often enough, or at least I have, and we can do it again tonight, for the sake of an adventure. We should reach Sarn Ford by morning, and everything will be all right."

To his surprise, Reggie raised no clamour of protest, but was rather uncannily silent. He was so silent that Falco began to wish he would start complaining. Reggie was thinking, that was clear, and Falco was afraid of what he might be thinking. Not mutiny, surely... hopefully...

"Well, we've got sometime until it gets dark, so we can just hang about as we please," said Falco, trying to speak in those kind, compassionate tones. "Go where you will, but I guess it would be best if we didn't stray too far from the camp." He opened his pack up and peered in. "Here's one last bit of a biscuit, Reggie," he said. "It might be a little stale, but it will fill you a little bit." He placed it into Reggie's hands, and then strode to the river-bank, hoping that his sacrifice made a good impression on Reggie's mind.

Sinking down into the grass, he dropped his feet into the cool water and swished his toes back and forth, gazing uneasily down the river. Were they really as close to Sarn Ford as he hoped? What if they weren't? They couldn't trek miles with no food in their stomachs. Or, at least, Reggie couldn't. He was younger and not as strong and hearty. But Falco wondered if he himself would be able to march a whole day without any food. This was an awful situation. But it was best not to worry about it. Sarn Ford had to be close. They'd been walking for so long. And their only choice was to go back to Sondo.

"And I'll never do that," Falco murmured. He directed his eyes to the river and watched its gentle running, and resolved to think of something else.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Encaitare's Post:

Reggie watched Falco's retreating back, and then eyed the bit of biscuit he held in his own hands. This was all the food they had left? Why hadn't Falco told him they were running out of food?

He wondered if Falco really knew how close (or far) they were from Sarn Ford. Reggie did want to go there, truly he did, just for the sake of going somewhere he had never been before and seeing something different for a change. Still, Sondo had said something about heading east...

His thoughts a confused jumble, he decided to take advantage of Falco's suggestion and go off by himself for a bit. He wandered away from their semblance of camp until the noises of the river were faint. As he walked, he nibbled on the biscuit. It was stale, and seemed much smaller when he actually raised it to his mouth. Instead, he broke off a corner and stuck the rest in his pocket. He rued the loss of the nice pack which Bingo had assembled to him.

I hope he's okay, he thought, wondering what the others were doing now. He then realized that he shouldn't care, since he had chosen to leave them, and made himself push the thought out of his mind. He focused on the squirrels, the patterns the sunlight made on the ground as it came through the leaves, the hopes he had for reaching the Ford -- anything to distract himself. But that one pesky thought of his brother kept returning. Bingo had looked so hurt when last he saw him, and he wasn't very sorry about it at the time. Now, though, he was sorry that he had made Bingo, his closest friend and kin, feel so terrible.

"I thought you'd want to stick together. That's what brothers do."

Why was it that Bingo's final words to him were getting to him so much? Guilt was eating away at him not unlike the way he was gnawing on the hard biscuit: slowly but relentlessly.

Bingo had done so much for him throughout his short life. He was Reggie's co-conspirator, sharer of secrets, the one he looked up to the most. Never had he thrown a harsh word at his younger brother -- and look how Reggie had repaid him!

He should go back. He didn't care if he was a baby anymore.

But still... Falco was being nice to him. He seemed to realize that he was upset, and was trying to be especially kind.

But, he had grown snappish as the day grew older. And, if he knew how torn Reggie was, then he would not be surprised if the younger hobbit left.

I must go back, and that's all there is to it, Reggie decided, immediately feeling like a much better person. He hoped Bingo wouldn't be mad at him. With that, he turned back towards the river.

On his way, he encountered a berry bush he had not noticed before because of his musings. Many of the berries were still green, but he found a good number that were ripe or close enough. These he picked and put in his pockets until they were filled to capacity. He then returned to the campsite, discovering that the shadows had grown long in his absence. Falco was probably wondering where he had been for so long, but the other hobbit said nothing until Reggie approached him.

"Anything interesting around here?" he asked in half-interest.

"Not really," Reggie responded. He drew the rest of the biscuit from his pocket and held it out. "Here, Falco. You should have some supper too."

Falco looked at him in surprise, but Reggie did not lower his hand. He took it with a grateful "thank you."

That evening was spent mostly milling about camp in boredom. Reggie was considering telling Falco he meant to go back, but something Falco said changed his mind.

"I hope the others are alright," Reggie had said offhandedly.

Falco grumbled. "Who cares? I certainly don't." He then added, more to himself than to Reggie. "I want nothing to do with Sondo right now, nothing at all." Perhaps he realized what he had said and remembered Reggie's earlier kindness, for he quickly said, "I do hope Bingo is alright, though."

Appeasement, Reggie thought it. Falco had been doing that sort of thing since leaving Sondo: trying to prove that he was a good and kind leader. But Reggie's plan was now set in stone.

He waited until the moon was high in the sky, pretending to be asleep until Falco's gentle snores told him it was safe. Quietly, he rose and took half the berries and stashed them in Falco's pack. Hopefully he would find them in the morning and realize that Reggie's intentions were not hurtful. He wasn't a bad leader, really. It was like what he had said to Bingo, only this time the situation was a little different.

"It's not about Sondo or Falco; it's about doing what we want to do," he had said. And now all he wanted was to be reunited with his brother.

He left Falco silently, following the river north and only hoping that Bingo could forgive him.

[Boromir88]

It was nearing noon and Rory was getting increasingly hungry. He figured they were getting farther, and farther, away from Reggie and Falco. The morning didn't start good at all. He was already hungry from the previous night, and hoped when he found Sondo, he would have food ready. But, Rory stumbled right into a mutiny, and found himself thrown into it.

He wasn't real impressed with Sondo's reply to him. It seemed like Sondo was just saying that to appease Rory, and get him out of the way. What doe he mean he has listened to us? When we begged him to pull over and get some food, he told us we needed to go on, since we got a late start. When I told him it was no use in trying to steer the boat in the rapids, he didn't listen. Then when he finally decides to pull towards shore, it was too late. All Rory wanted to hear from Sondo was that maybe he made some mistakes, and he would listen to the others advice. All it seemed like to Rory, was Sondo just quickly agreed in hopes that Rory didn't join Falco.

Despite not liking Sondo's reply, Rory still decided to go with him. His desire to go home was greater then his desire for adventure. Although, he still wouldn't mind having the adventure they always planned. Rory's main concern was surviving, and considering all their food was destroyed, along with the raft, meant the hobbits depended on finding and catching food. That's the other thing Rory noticed. Bingo and Sassy had proven themselves to be able to catch food, and they were no doubt going with Sondo. Reggie and Falco, although Rory never had a problem with them, hadn't shown that they would be able to catch food. Now, Rory finds himself travelling with Sondo, and still little food, if any.

"Let's stop here, and see what we have to eat." Sondo said. Rory brightened, the thought of food made his mouth water. I don't care what it is, I'll eat anything now. Rory munched down his lunch and soon found everyone ready to start again. The meal wasn't as big as Rory would have liked it to be, but it satisfied him for now, and gave him strength again. With nourishment in his stomach, and the thought of home near, Rory began to sing out in joy: "What was that song old Baggins would always sing? Oh I know...

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, If I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The other hobbits joined in, and new hope had come to them. "Oh, how much I would like to sing the bath song right about now." Rory chuckled and everyone let out a laugh. Sondo called for everyone to stop. Rory's stomach was grumbling, but he was still cheerful from the song, and thought I will be home soon.

[Firefoot]

Camp that night was about as cheery as could be, under the circumstances. They made camp fairly early for various reasons, the most prominent one being to catch some fish, but also so that they might rest. They had had little sleep and most were unaccustomed to such long days of hiking. Feet were sore and everyone was relieved at the chance to sit down. Sassy volunteered some fishing line which she had found in a pocket, and make-shift poles were made from branches. A few hobbits were set up with fishing poles by the river, but after an hour or so they had still caught only two fish, and those not particularly large. No one wanted to wait any longer for their dinners, and so the two fish were cooked at their little campfire and they had a fair meal when combined with the food left over from lunch. Certainly, it was not up to hobbit standards and any one of them could have done with a bit more food, but they weren’t precisely hungry any more.

What concerned Sondo was that now they really were out of food. They would be relying solely on their abilities to find and catch food, and from what he could see wildlife was none too plentiful. Besides, catching food took time. His outlook was bleak, for just the same as he had not known how far away Sarn Ford was, so also did he not know how far away from home they were. He tried to cheer himself by thinking they were doing all right so far and it would get better, but underneath it all he was worried. In his fourteen years of life he had never gone without; now, adventure or not, they had very few basic means for survival. Luckily, there was a clear stream not far from their camp; he did not fancy drinking the muddy waters of the Brandywine. But what would they do if they did not find fresh water? They had no water bottles. He was worried, very worried. Already he had been criticized for his leadership, though nothing yet was truly his fault. What would happen when they went hungry? The responsibilities associated with the title “leader” were being heaped on him like never before. What was he to do?

Nevertheless, he tried to keep a friendly, cheerful attitude for the sake of the other hobbits. They trusted him, to a greater or lesser degree, and he did his best. Even in his grim outlook, he was having fun now. Surely that counted for something. So he tried to put off the negative thoughts and joined the banter surrounding the fire until it began to get dark and hobbits started yawning.

A mention of standing watch through the night was made. A couple looked surprised that it might be necessary, and for himself Sondo had not even thought of it; others appeared concerned that it might be necessary. It sounded like a good “just-in-case” type of plan, and so most of the hobbits agreed fairly readily. So they drew lots for watches, and Sondo sighed resignedly at getting one smack in the middle of the night. He had wanted a good night’s rest.

He fell asleep soon enough, though, and slept deeply until he was awakened abruptly just past midnight for his watch. He got up tiredly and found a rock to sit down upon. For the most part, his watch was uneventful as he had expected. He had told Falco that morning that he heard wolves during the night, even though he actually hadn’t, because it seemed a good argument in the heat of the moment. Now, however, he really did hear them. They sounded far off but it was chilling nonetheless. Such a tangible threat was not lightly shaken off. The howls faded, however, and he heard no more during his watch.

~*~*~*~

The next few days were increasingly dreary. In the morning of their first full day since the split, they left the woods behind and the ground became increasingly more hilly. At first, they tried to continue to stay close to the river, but the bank was extremely uneven and in staying a little further back they were forced to continue up and down the hills. This was extremely tiring, and during their “lunch break” (they still called it this even though there was no lunch to be had) they decided to stay in the ravines between the hills in order to avoid the continuous climbing. In theory, this was a good idea, but in practice it led them further and further from the river, even though they tried to keep left. Ultimately, they were too worn out and hungry to realize just how far they had strayed from their path; it turned out that by the time they stopped the river was not even in sight on top of the hills. All Sondo was sure of was that they were heading more or less north.

The following days continued in much the same way. Hunger became almost constant, for the land was basically void of any edible vegetation, and only once did the succeed in catching a scrawny coney in the snares they left overnight. It had tasted good that night, but the end result was that it merely sharpened their hunger in the following day. Along with the hunger came weariness; they had sleep enough but without food to sustain the energy needed for their hiking, they were all but spent. And the grime! None of them had had a proper bath in days, and there was no getting away from the dirt of travelling. No more mention was made of breaking off of their main path and venturing east; they mostly wanted to go home now if only for the reason of having their needs taken care of. What he wouldn’t do for a hot meal and bath followed by sleep in a real bed. Sondo’s attempts at cheering the others became fewer and less convincing, for he himself was able to find little cheer. Also contributing was the stark absence of Falco and Reggie. Though only mentioned in whispers if at all, they were all sharply aware of the empty spaces. Several time did he wonder how the pair were making out, and whether they had made it to Sarn Ford and found supplies. Perhaps Falco had had the right idea after all; it was certainly taking them long enough to get anywhere - maybe Sarn Ford had been closer than he realized. But there was no going back.

They had continued to keep watch at night, as well, more for the sake of doing it than for any other reason, for as yet no threat had been detected. Sondo did not hear the wolves any more until several days later; he was pretty sure it was the seventh night since they had left Buckland. He could not believe that they had only been out a week; it seemed so much longer. He was not sure that they foreboded well, but passed it off. Their situation could not get much worse, and he thought that if the wolves were going to come after them they would have done so already. During these lonely watches he had only his memories and dreams to sustain him: memories of those first few days, and wistful dreams of how their adventure might have gone. For all their miserable conditions, adventure to him was still very much romanticized. Adventurers went off and after beating off the bad guys and maybe fighting a battle or two came home with treasure and none the worse for wear. This adventure was going all wrong! Adventurers were not always tired and hungry. They did not have to face mutiny. He would not let himself face the truth, that adventure wasn’t always what the stories made it out to be. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, maybe, for then all hope he had in this venture would disappear completely. He was convinced that there had to be something more to it.

But so far there wasn’t. And after five days since the raft had crashed, Sondo had lost all hope that there would be. Even without hope, though, he kept on believing that it would get better. It had to. They set camp yet once again on the eighth evening. It would get better.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo was beginning to wonder if they could possibly be walking in circles. They had only taken a few days to journey down river on the raft. Why would their trip back home be taking so long? They couldn't even see the river any more. Maybe they had veered off to the west and would never get back to Buckland again. That thought made him exceedingly gloomy.

At least the members of their party weren't squabbling with one another. But it was not long before Bingo began to feel that the long periods of silence were even harder to take than some good honest fighting. Perhaps his friends were afraid to say what was on their minds because they had lost all hope of ever returning.

The grime and hunger were an annoyance to Bingo, but no more than that. He could have ignored the gnawing sensation in his stomach and the fact that his shirt now looked little better than a dirty old rag, if only his brother was with him. Bingo missed Reggie more than he could ever put in words. His whole life had been spent beside his brother. He had consoled himself at the death of his parents by saying that at least he still had a family in the shape of Reggie. Now Reggie was gone, and Bingo was feeling very lonely. Whenever he thought he heard a noise in the bushes or a footfall coming behind them on the path, he whirled around to see if his brother was there. But every time he had been disappointed. Still, he hadn't entirely given up hope. Whether they reached Buckland or not, Bingo was not at all certain. But something inside his head still reassured him that somehow, someway, Reggie would find his way back with or without Falco, and they would be together again.

[Encaitare]

His traveling had been difficult and lonely... although lonely was the worst part, he thought.

Reggie had been wandering along the riverbank as best he could until the terrain became too difficult to manage. He had then turned away from the river, figuring that the others most likely would have gone that way as well. Unfortunately for him, he had not thought of his food situation very well. He had eaten most of the berries he had found early on, and was a good distance away from the Brandywine before it dawned on him that he really should have fished while he still could. Then he remembered that he had no line or hook, so it wouldn't have made too much difference.

I could have used my shirt as a net, he thought inconsequentially now as he continued through the bare land. His third day without Falco was coming to a close, and he figured he must have covered a considerable distance. He had risen as early as he could, and continued quite late every night in the hopes of catching up. Now he was tired and hungry, and decided that it was time to stop and rest.

Somewhat anxiously, he settled down by a mound of dirt and dug himself in backwards enough that he felt relatively safe. He had heard wolves last night, and hoped that the small shelter would be enough to provide him at least a little protection. Their mournful howling had frightened him to no end, not only for himself, but for all of his companions, wherever they might be. Trying to empty his mind of all his worries, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, it was still dark out. The moon provided enough light to see by, but it was still unsettling. It was the dark of deepest night when all the world was asleep, and anyone who was not was left to fend for himself against all the creatures of the night. He remembered the scary stories some of his older cousins had told him, delighting him with tales of monsters. But that had all been okay then, because he would always go to sleep that night in a cozy bed in Brandy Hall, knowing that he was safe from harm. Now every story he had ever been told seemed as though it might come true.

Reggie gulped as he heard a distant baying. He felt that there was not a chance of falling asleep again, and so he rolled out of his little hollow, causing some dirt to fall on him, down the back of his shirt and into his hair. He combed his fingers through his knotty hair to get the dirt out (largely unsuccessfully), stretched his short limbs, and walked on.

He continued as one in a dream, not following any consciously chosen course, but just allowing his grimy feet to take him where they would. Twice he stumbled in his tiredness; once he fairly tripped and fell on his face. Yet the thought of the night monsters was enough to make him keep walking. To sleep was to be vulnerable when one was lost and alone.

I shall have to sleep in the day and travel by night if this keeps up much longer, he thought irrationally, getting fairly giddy in his lack of sleep. He felt as though he just might laugh in the face of some big old wolf if it came snuffling along, looking for a nice little hobbit for supper. Everything was going so strangely and so wrong -- what did he care if something else terrible should happen?

He entered a rocky patch of land. The sharp stones beneath his feet did not cut him, but certainly forced him to pay more attention to what was going on. A good thing it was, too, for he just thought he had heard someone say, "Hello?"

Ridiculous. Who would possibly be awake out here at this time of night? Reggie shook his head. He was going mad like they said old Mr. Baggins was.

"Hello?" No, there it was again, clear as the stars above him. He wasn't dreaming after all.

"Is anyone there?" The voice did not sound scared, but hopeful. Suddenly Reggie was wide awake. He knew that voice -- it was Bingo's.

"Bingo?" he asked, taking a few steps forward.

"Reggie? Is that you?" He heard the scuffling sound of someone standing up. Reggie flew forward and nearly knocked his brother over in an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Bingo," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "I'll never abandon you again, I promise! Don't hate me... I'm so sorry."

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Hate you? I don't hate you. I am so happy to see you alive and well. Don't you look fine!" Bingo leaned over and engulfed Reggie's frame in a big bear hug. Then Bingo peered at his brother more closely and burst out in laughter. "Actually, you don't look fine at all. You look worse than I do, which is saying a lot. What I wouldn't give for a tub filled with hot water just for the two of us. Whatever possessed us to go on this little trip? It's certainly a good thing I got up. I was lying on the ground with tree roots sticking me in the back. I swear that they were moving, and I couldn't get to sleep. Then something inside my head whispered a warning to get up and go for a walk."

With a grin of affection spreading over his face, Bingo reached out to tousle his brother's ragged curls. Reggie's clothes were streaked with leaves and dirt. Long rips disfigured his shirt, and his hair was matted. But he looked like the finest thing Bingo had seen in a long time. "Don't the two of us make a picture! Aunt Hilde and Aunt Opal would make us wash in the shed for at least ten years to scrape all this dirt off." With a sigh Bingo added, "Well, it can't be helped. We'll just have to pull together to get ourselves out of this mess. Come on back to camp. I know everyone will be happy to see you."

As they walked along the trail, they talked of little things: how loud their stomachs were growling from lack of adequate food, how they would gladly undergo a whipping just to get a plate of Aunt Opal's biscuits, and how dark and mysterious the forest seemed at night. When they finally reached the edge of the encampment, Bingo stopped for a moment. He hesitated, uncertain what to say, but then plunged ahead, "I'm sure Sondo is going to want to know how Falco is, and whether you made it to the Ford. Maybe Falco sent a message through you?" Bingo looked expectently at his brother, but Reggie did not respond. At that moment, their attention was diverted by noises and shuffling in the camp. At least one other hobbit seemed to be stirring and awake.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam hears noises in the night

It was awfully dark and he was cold and hungry. And there, poking him in the side was the tip of some unfriendly tree’s root. Sam curled up in a little ball and huddled as best he could beneath his cloak. He was just on the brink of a little more sleep when the sound of feet scuffling along tapped at his consciousness and then voices drew nearer, bringing him fully awake.

At first, he was afraid. Who would be walking toward the Hobbit camp talking? Ruffians? Or worse yet, Orcs? Sam tried to be as still as he could, hoping they wouldn’t see him, but just a little, lumpy rock beneath a tree. He quieted his breathing and pushed his hands a little against his grumbly stomach to make it stop gurgling. His ears were straining to catch the sound of Orcish chatter . . .

‘Maybe Falco sent a message through you?’ drifted out to him from the darkness.

Wait a minute! Either he was dreaming still, or Falco had really turned against them. Sam pinched himself to make sure he was awake, then listened all the harder. It didn’t sound like he thought Orcs should . . . but still it could be ruffians. Then, the voices stopped and so did the footsteps.

Well, he couldn’t let the bad ‘uns get his friends! He picked up a good sized rock and rose up from his sleeping place, intending to clonk the ruffians on the head.

But there, in the pale moonlight, was Bingo . . . and Reggie! Sam rubbed his eyes, and took another look, making sure. He went running toward the two brothers, dropping the rock as he ran.

‘Hey! Wake up everybody!’ he called out with a grin on his face. ‘Reggie’s back!’

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy had given up completely on her mop of curls. So matted and tangled were they that not even her attempt to use her stubby fingers to pry apart the knots was of any use. With a sigh she pulled out one of the large checkered napkins she’d brought the cookies in and folding it into as neat a triangle as she could, tied it round her head and behind her ears like a little bandana. At least any straggling curls would be kept out of her face, she thought.

She heard voices at the far edge of their rough little camp and stood up, wondering who was talking. It was barely first light; the moon had not yet set, and darkness still covered much of the area. The mists were rising from the ground as the sun's light crept just to the horizon, making it hard to see clearly in the still dark distance. Sassy shivered in the chill morning air. Her little cloak was stiff with dirt and the rips in it let the cold seep through. She stamped her feet as she picked up her pack and slung it on her back. Moving a little closer to the source of the voices, she was delighted to learn that Reggie had abandoned that mean boy, Falco, and come back to their little group. She could see Bingo looking at him fondly at him, relieved to have his brother back. ‘I wish I was born a boy,’ she thought to herself, looking wistfully at the two. ‘Then maybe Sondo would like me better.’ She waved at Reggie when he glanced toward her, and was about to go up and greet him. But someone else had beat her to it, and so she turned away.

With a resigned little sigh, she turned back to where she’d been sleeping. In a small copse of ash and oak, a little ways away from their camp, she’d set her traps. Her hopes were dim that she’d find anything . . . there had been nothing caught for a number of days. But her luck had shifted it seemed, last night, and there were two fine, fat coneys caught in the rope loops, their necks broken. She took them down and wound up the loop rope traps, stuffing them securely into one of her pack pockets. The coneys she slung over her back and made her way as quickly as she could back to camp.

Everyone it seemed was gathered about the returned Reggie. So, her own return remained unnoticed, if indeed anyone had even noticed she had been gone. Shrugging off her ‘left out’ feelings, she concentrated on getting a little fire going. And once done, she skinned and gutted the well fed, if unfortunate, coneys; spitted them each on thin, ash tree branches she’d brought back from the little thicket; and set them to roasting over the small fire.

Sassy sat near the fire to tend the spits. She sniffed appreciatively as the heat cooked the meat. ‘If we quarter them,’ she thought, her tummy growling, ‘there’ll be a good sized chunk for everyone and a bit more.’ She snorted, thinking how Falco would not get a bit of her coneys. Sassy could just hear her Gammer saying how it was best to be kind even to those who spited you. But she just didn’t feel very kind at the moment . . . only very hungry and glad there would someone’s portion for the rest of them to share.

[piosenniel]

Sam

The first faint smell of roasting meat drew Sam like a magnet. He was glad to see Reggie, and hopeful at first that perhaps he had brought back some food from Falco’s camp. But Reggie’s tummy growled as loudly as Sam’s, letting him know there was no hope there.

Then . . . a delicious odor tickled his nose and sent his mouth watering.

Sam turned in the direction of the enticing smell, hoping his mind was not playing tricks on him. There on the other side of the camp was Sassy, crouched down near a small fire she’d started. He could see her hands reach out to turn a spit to either side, now and then. And on each of those spits was a plump coney! He drew near the fire and crouched down, himself, near Sassy.

‘I’ll tend to this one, and you can tend to the other,’ he offered, nodding at the coney to his left. ‘We’ll get them done up in no time with two of us cooking!’ He pulled out the little knife he had in his pocket. ‘I can help with the cutting, too,’ he said, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of a hot meal.

‘Going to be a good day,’ he thought to himself, grinning as he watched the coney turn a nice golden brown and smelled the fat dripping from it sizzle on the coals.

[Encaitare]

Knowing that Bingo was not angry with him lifted a huge weight off Reggie's shoulders. They walked back to the small camp, where the others greeted the returned hobbit. He felt so glad to be back... and what was that he smelled? Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Sassy was cooking some coneys. What a fine breakfast that would make! His empty stomach rumbled greedily as he inhaled the aroma.

Soon enough the sun was beginning to rise, providing thin but welcome light. As a few birds first started chirping, Sam and Sassy announced that the coneys were ready. Each of them was happy to accept his serving.

"Thanks, Sassy," Reggie said to the lass as she handed him a nice piece of roasted meat on a napkin. She had not paid any attention to his return, but now she smiled at his appreciation.

They sat in a circle and ate in silence for a while, but eventually a topic was brought up which Reggie had known would be inevitable. One of the hobbits asked about Falco.

"Yes, did you make it to Sarn Ford alright?" Bingo inquired. Most of the others waited curiously, although it seemed to Reggie that Sondo was trying to act like he was not interested whatsoever.

"Well, er..." he began, "...we never really made it to Sarn Ford. I kind of gave Falco the slip." Everyone looked surprised, and he hurried to get the rest out. "Not too long after leaving, I started thinking I might want to go back because I felt really bad about what I did. And Falco knew it, too, but there was no way he was going to turn back... so I slipped off in the middle of the night, while he was asleep."

He waited for their responses; he hoped that they didn't think he was some sort of double-crosser.

[Firefoot]

Sondo snuck a glance over at Reggie. Now that was interesting. He had been dying to know about Falco since Reggie had come back, but he was not about to be the one to ask. Now he knew, and found a great measure of satisfaction from the story. The pair had not reached Sarn Ford, nor could Falco even keep the one follower he had! The ultimate triumph would be if Falco were to turn around after realizing Reggie was gone... but, based both on Reggie’s account and his own logic, that would never happen.

“Well, we’re glad you’re back,” said Sondo, “even if Falco is not.” No one said any more on the issue; it had been a touchy topic before and everyone seemed satisfied, for now at least, by Reggie’s answer. Some light conversation ensued. Between Sassy’s catch and Reggie’s return, there was finally something to celebrate. Indeed, after going so many days without much to eat, the small meat chunks seemed a feast. Even so, the meal was all too small and was finished all too quickly. Sondo felt sure that given the opportunity he could have eaten both coneys. But he was thankful for what he had, and had given Sassy a smile of genuine appreciation upon receiving his food. It was the first token of forgiveness he had shown her since that fateful day when she called him “Bunnymuggins.”

They tarried there for a while after finishing breakfast, content to relax and let the food settle. Soon, however, Sondo felt an itch to start moving again. One thing he had found was that, even if it made for rather miserable travelling, it made for easy “pick-up-and-go” when they didn’t have any supplies to gather up and carry. They had scant supplies, and once he gave the word to start moving again, it could not have been more than ten minutes before they left.

This morning there was a spring in his step, and lively chatter characterized their hike. Having a meal (albeit a small one) in their bellies took their minds off food troubles (for a while, anyway) and Reggie’s return encouraged everyone, most notably Bingo. And yet, as he walked, Sondo could not shake the feeling of foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach, similar to when he had ‘known’ something would happen before the raft crashed. But no, he told himself. This day has started off so wonderfully; what could go wrong?

[piosenniel]

Sam

Sam came up beside Sassy and ambled along in amiable silence for a while. His feet kicked at little pebbles as he went along, and one he purposely kicked into the path of Sassy’s footsteps. She looked up at him oddly, and he grinned at her, then pursed his lips and looked expectantly toward the pebble. Soon, there was a game of ‘Back and Forth’ going on between them, accompanied by giggles on Sassy’s part when she missed the pebble altogether and it shot into the underbrush.

‘Say, you got any rope in your pack?’ They had tired of the game after a while and now just walked along talking about whatever came to mind. And to be honest, what was most on his mind was the subject of food. Again Sassy looked up at him. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘For traps and such. I was thinking if I helped you lay out a few more traps then maybe we could have a little more to eat. Whatta ya say . . . Sass – a – frass?’

He jumped quickly out of her way in case she took offense to his teasing.

[Primrose Bolger]

It was almost like having one of her friends from home along! Sassy’s spirits had lifted considerably with the appearance of Sam by her side. She didn’t mind the teasing name, but she knew the unwritten rule that you couldn’t let a friend get one up on you, so she stuck out her tongue at him.

She hauled her little pack off her back and dug down to the bottom of the main compartment. There was still a small coil of thin, strong rope and she hauled it out for Sam to see. She put it in his hands, telling him to go ahead and unwind it. As he did so, she got out one of her loop traps, and together they measured the length of it. Sassy offered to tie the slip knot on it, saying how her uncle had taught her the trick. But Sam’s fingers were nimble enough and soon they had two more traps to use. ‘Let’s give ‘em a try out tonight,’ Sassy said, testing the two knots and nodding her head at how well they worked.

Another game began, as Sassy caught the movement of a red squirrel in the branches of one of the trees ahead. ‘I spy, with my little eye,’ she began, nudging him to get his full attention. ‘Something . . . red . . .’

[Kitanna]

Reggie had returned and the hobbits had eaten a nice breakfast of coneys. Marroc's spirits were lifting. He was glad of Reggie's return and the coneys just made the day even better. Everyone seemed to feel better today. It was a pity Falco was not there to enjoy it.

Marroc felt bad for Falco. He had one follower and he'd abandoned him. Well, Marroc was pretty certain Falco would come after them. Who wants to be alone and away from home? Marroc nodded to himself, yes Falco would come around soon enough.

Now he began to whistle and merry tune and looked up into the clouds. Nothing could bring him down. Not today. He thought of home and the wonderful meals his mother would make. Though Sassy wasn't a bad cook. It was good she had come along. Marroc had no idea how to cook and he wasn't sure the others knew either.

Marroc hadn't noticed he'd strayed away from the others. When he drew himself out of his own thoughts he had trailed so far behind his friends he could barely see them. "Wait for me!" He called out, running after them. Marroc caught up in a matter of seconds.

[Nurumaiel]

Falco saw the company up ahead, and a bitter cry was mingled with the gasp of relief that burst from his lips. He was not pleased to see them. He did not want to go to them and ask if he could rejoin their company. It was so humiliating. How could he preserve what little dignity he had left if he went to them? But if he remembered that he was returning to them because he had no choice, and not because he was sorry (for what would he be sorry?), he could still be dignified.

It had been hard to cope with the fact that Reggie was gone. He had awoken that morning in brighter spirits, feeling more than confident that they would reach Sarn Ford before their stomachs told them it was time for breakfast. But when he had gone to find Reggie... Reggie was not there. It didn't take long for Falco to realise that Reggie had returned to Sondo's group, and his soul had been filled with the deepest of bitter resentment. That he had gained only one follower in the first place was painful, but it was beyond words when that one follower deserted him.

He had sat on the river bank for most of the morning, alternating between angry tears and bitter silences. At last he had resolved to go on alone, so he took up his pack and continued on south. By noon he was desperately hungry, and there was no hint that he was close to Sarn Ford. He had walked too close to the river and slipped, and though he saved himself by grasping desperately to the bank and pulling himself up, his pack, which he had been holding, rather than having it safely strapped to his shoulders, was lost.

So he had sat on the river bank for awhile more, wondering what he should do. He had no food, and he was terribly hungry. That was bad enough, especially as Sarn Ford did not seem to be as close as he had thought. But now, with the loss of his pack, he had absolutely nothing. And so the bitter choice was before him... should he continue on in a southerly direction, and hope that maybe, perhaps, possibly, Sarn Ford would magically appear? Or should he return to the group?

He stood up, brushed as much mud from his clothes as he could, and began walking north.

By midday he was trying to decide whether it was comforting or tantalising to imagine his mother's apple pies, and the chicken they would have for supper. He entertained himself in pleasant dreams of the feast he would have when he returned home, and hoped he was not making himself even more hungry by his visions. He walked at a nice, brisk pace, and pretended that his stomach was not growling as loudly as it was.

By evening his steps were lagging, and he was so hungry that his stomach fell, for the most part, silent. He wondered how far ahead the others were, and felt angry that they kept walking instead of taking it slow so he could catch up. He didn't care if they didn't know he was following them... they should wait for him!

An hour past his usual bedtime, he wondered dully if he should get some sleep or keep going. He decided on the latter. Sleep could wait, but he was hungry, so very hungry! If he kept walking throughout the night, maybe he could catch up with them. It was certainly worth trying. He would try.

On he walked, through the darkness. He had been asking much of himself to plod on throughout the day without a bite of food, but to continue on through the night was unbearable, or it should have been. He was so dull and tired that he didn't care. Midnight came, and he was still going on. Two hours past midnight, his ragged breath caught in his throat, and he began to sob. But he still trekked on. His only hope was that he caught up with the others.

Dawn was coming. A faint grey light stole across the sky, bringing the land out of its darkness but keeping it in a cool, dim light. Falco's eyes dimmed to match his surroundings. He could barely walk. His steps were dragging. He was too tired to even cry. The first birdsong of the day rang sweetly in his ears; his foot did not lift high enough; he tripped, and fell, and did not move.

It was too much. He could go no farther. He would rather lie here and starve to death than go on. He could not go on. He had fallen, and he had not the strength to get up. He buried his face in the grass and closed his eyes.

And then he started up. Was that... smoke?

He raised his head and looked here and there. Yes, it was! Not far from him were the remains of a little fire. They must have had their breakfast here. The fire was not dead yet... they couldn't be too far off!

He felt a faint glimmering of hope, and that smallest bit of hope gave him the courage to go on. But when he tried to lift himself from the ground his arms would not support him. Each time he tried to push himself up, they buckled beneath him and he fell back. He was too tired and weak. Again and again he tried, but to no avail. At his last try he put his face down and began to cry. Why couldn't he get up?

He lay, weeping, for some time, thinking all the while that the group was getting farther and farther away. When he had rested a bit, he tried again, but it was all in vain. He began to squirm along the ground like a snake, wriggling back and forth, trying to move himself forward. He did move forward, inch by inch. But to come back to Sondo like this! Like a worm. No, pride could hold out even in the face of exhaustion.

But it gave Falco an idea. If he could make his way to one of the trees, grasp one of the lower branches, and cling on for all he was worth, maybe he could pull himself up. He felt confident that, if he could just get on his feet, he would be all right, and able to stand. Once more he tried to lift himself up, but his hungry, exhausted, thirsty body would not support him.

He wriggled his way to the river bank, and dipped his head down to take a long, cool drink. He put his hands in, splashed his face, and was soon feeling a little more refreshed. He had been walking on so doggedly before that he had been fool enough to not stop for water. But now he felt just a little better. He wriggled to a tree then, slowly, just inching along, and when he reached it he grasped a branch, took a deep breath, and then began to pull himself up. The tree was a kind support and stood straight and tall. Just a few more moments... and then he was up!

He clung to the branch, and leaned against the trunk, gasping for breath and laughing with relief. He was on his feet! How foolish that he couldn't get up himself before. He felt much stronger now in the face of this victory. Well, he would never tell his older brother that he had fallen and couldn't get up. Not even when they were old and grey, not even when they were old and white.

He stood there for a few moments, rejoicing silently, and then he pushed himself away from the trunk, and slowly released his hold on the branch. He was a bit shaky, but he was standing by himself. Now to go on.

And on he went, ignoring the aches and pains in his body, pretending that he was a great adventurer. His imaginings helped a little, but not as much as he would have liked. Yet, he could go on. The rising sun brought hope, he reflected dreamily, and didn't stop to think that it would bring heat and exhaustion if he didn't hurry.

It wasn't so very long before he found the group, and now here he was, standing, torn with conflict. During the night, on his weary walk, he had forgotten his bitterness and anger, and thought he could hug every one of them, even Sassy (as long as the boys promised they wouldn't tell anybody that he had hugged a girl). But now that he had reached his goal, now that there was no more struggling, he was once again reluctant to beg pardon... that is, to forgive them.

But he had to go to them. He must remember, he was not returning to apologise. He was still proud and dignified and aloof. He flung his chin up and strode forward, struggling in vain to hide the limping brought on by his weary, aching feet.

[Firefoot]

The morning drew on, and Sondo began to think it was about time for lunch break. He wondered idly why they still called it lunch break; it had been several days since they had any lunch. More like a break in the hiking was what it was. He was getting hungry again; the cooked coney could only stave off the hunger for so long. He did wonder if the breakfast might be a good sign, and maybe they were getting on to places more suitable for coneys and vegetation.

“Hey, every-” he started to say, turning around. Was he seeing things? After the barest moment he decided he couldn’t be. The other hobbits began to look back too, wondering what it was Sondo had seen. A smug, victorious smile spread across Sondo’s lips. So the prodigal had returned, had he?

“So you’ve come back, huh?” smirked Sondo. He couldn’t help it. “I heard you never made it to Sarn Ford.” Sondo’s tone was conversational, but it was a jab, all right, same as Falco had been throwing at him that last night. Falco didn’t respond, and continued to make his way toward them. Sondo studied the other hobbit closely. He looked tired, like his feet hurt something awful. But there was something about the way he limped... A brief frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Falco looked proud still, even arrogant. Sondo’s temper flared against this hobbit who had shown him in such a bad light, but he shoved it back down. Kill your enemies with kindness, his ma had always said. At any rate, Sondo figured he had nothing left to prove.

This time without the implied jab, Sondo said, “Well, Falco, nice of you to join us.”

[Child of the 7th Age]

“Look!” Bingo grabbed Sassy firmly by the sleeve to get her attention and pointed excitedly toward Falco who was standing in the clearing talking with Sondo. Their voices were low, so that Bingo could not make out what the two hobbits were actually saying. Still, he could not miss the strained look on Sondo’s face. It would be a while till things were back to normal. For his own part, Bingo intended to do anything he could to help mend the situation quickly. Whirling around to face his brother, he flashed a grin of reassurance. “We’re all together now. Things will be better. It might take a bit, but you’ll see.”

Once Sondo backed away, Bingo pressed forward and waved his hand in greeting, “I’m so glad you’re back. I was so worried about you and Reggie.” Bingo sidled closer and lowered his voice, “Don’t mind about Sondo. He’ll get over it. Friends have tiffs and make mistakes but they need each other.”

Reaching under his belt, Bingo fished out his last remaining treasure. It was a small packet of berries that he had managed to scavenge along the trail the afternoon before. Although a few were smashed and in less than good shape, this tiny mouthful to eat was the greatest treasure he could imagine to bestow on a returning friend. “It’s going to be alright, Falco, honest.” He placed the berries in Falco’s hand and gently pressed his friend’s fingers over the precious treat.

Then Bingo slipped back to make room for the others who, full of curiosity and joy or perhaps other less agreeable sentiments, now pressed forward to confront Falco. For his own part, Bingo was content. He began whistling a lively tune and gathering up his belongings hoping they would hit the trail again as soon as things settled down. Surely things could only get better now!

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy stood to the side, watching Falco strut into camp. ‘Hope it doesn’t rain,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Got his nose so far up in the air he’ll drown if it does.’ She hmmmph’d in satisfaction that despite his snotty ways, he was limping. ‘Serves him right!’ she snorted.

She watched as others went up to welcome him back. Her brother sounded sincere, and Bingo, well, he was downright overjoyed to see Falco. What ever was the matter with them? Falco was a rat. A rat who’d come back, but he was still a rat. She looked sideways at Falco as he stood with Bingo. ‘Nope!’ she said aloud, casting her gaze down to her toes as they wriggled in the dirt. ‘I just don’t like him.’

A little rock came rolling along in the dirt, stopping just short of her toes. Sassy raised her head . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Falco's heart was deeply warmed by Bingo's warm welcome. A smile played about his lips, bright and cheery despite its faintness. His smile was not faint from lack of good feeling towards Bingo, but rather because he was feeling faint himself, and he took full advantage of a tree that stood nearby, propping himself up against it. He would have dearly loved to sit down, but he would not let them see how exhausted he was.

"Thank you, Bingo," he said, and paused. "...for the berries," he added. In his heart he was more thankful for the words of kindness, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything about that. He had been afraid of the reaction that would be given when he returned. He had expected at the least dark scowls and angry mutterings, and more probably an open attack on him with sticks and fists. Bingo acted just to the contrary of all these imaginings, and it made him feel that perhaps it was so bad that he hadn't continued on to Sarn Ford. Maybe he could be reconciled with the others yet.

[piosenniel]

Sam

‘I heard what you said,’ Sam said to Sassy. ‘It wasn’t very nice.’ He bent down and picked the rock up. With an easy flick of his wrist he sent it sailing through the branches of a nearby tree. ‘He is kind of stuck up and puffed up at times. But that’s just the way he is. Other times he’s a lot of fun. Got a lot of good ideas for games and such. Really sticks up for his friends in a pinch.’ He looked sideways at Sassy to see if she were listening at all. ‘Gotta take the good with the bad, don’t you?’

His stomach rumbled as if making a comment of its own. ‘Look . . . I’m not the greatest fellow either when I don’t get enough to eat. I can get really grouchy . . . really, really grouchy. I’m not very nice to be around. I’m a real pain. I know, ‘cause some of my friends have told me so. But they don’t turn their backs on me. They just tell me to knock it off . . . And throw me an apple or something, too,’ he grinned.

‘Come on over with me and say “hi”. Or if you can’t do that just come over with me and keep quiet if that’s what you want to do. Come on . . . you want to be part of the group . . . come on, Sassy . . .’

Sam ambled over to where Falco stood. He lifted his chin to the returnee and then nodded his head. ‘Glad you made it back, Falco.’ He looked to the right and left of Falco and grinned. ‘Didn’t bring anything good back to eat . . . did you?’

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t really like Falco . . . and for two very good reasons she thought. He didn’t like her and had wanted to send her back all by herself . . . and he was mean to Sondo. Sneakingly mean and outright mean, too. And despite what Sam had told her about Falco being a fun companion most of the time, she just couldn’t think how she might see him in this way.

On the other hand, she quite liked Sam. And she’d listened carefully to what he’d said to her.

Now he was walking toward Falco, having urged her to come with him. She scuffed her feet in frustration and chewed on the edge of her bottom lip as she watched his retreating back. ‘Go on Sass,’ she told herself. ‘You can hang behind Sam.’

Her little feet hurried to catch up with her friend. She hid behind him as he spoke with Falco, and once, when Falco glanced her way as Sam moved about, she nodded at him in a non-committal manner. Her face carefully neutral . . . or as neutral as a spirited little eleven year old girl can keep her expression. Sassy’s eyes flashed as Falco looked away, and he resumed talking once again to Sam. Careful to keep quiet she looked at him quite pointedly. ‘I’ve got my eye on you, Falco Brandybuck,’ she thought to herself. ‘Both of them! No matter what Sam thinks of you.’

[Nurumaiel]

Falco looked from Sam to Sassy. On the one hand, there was Sam, with a smile as kind as Bingo's had been. On the other hand, there was Sassy, and while her face showed no open emnity, he could guess exactly what she was thinking about him. And why shouldn't she? He had been rotten to her brother. That is to say, her brother had been rotten to him, so he had left.

There was a twinge of his conscience, and a realisation that he tried to stomp down. It was becoming plainer to him with each passing moment that he, Falco Brandybuck, had been the one in the wrong, and that it would be his duty to apologise. He would not apologise. He was not wrong.

He turned to Sam, smiling that faint smile once again, and this time it had a rueful look about it.

"I'm afraid I don't have any food, Sammy," he said. "Reggie and I ran out of food some time back, and even if there had been some food left... I lost my pack."

The tones in which he addressed Sam were very comradely. He had always been annoyed at the other lad's grouchiness, but since that first day when the hobbits were all sent floundering in the water, and Falco had pulled Sam out, and the latter had thanked him most graciously... well, Falco didn't feel quite so annoyed with Sam now. Least of all now, when he was giving him a warm, kind welcome!

As for Reggie... Falco had been fully intending to make Reggie feel his bitterness at the desertion by remaining coldly silent towards him, and every so often casting him reproachful glances, but Bingo's words had sent the plan from his mind. After all, Reggie had been the only one to follow him the first place. And they had been out of food.

Falco was not at all prepared to apologise, but he was feeling kind-hearted enough now to give a shaky smile and say: "It's nice to see you again, lads."

[Firefoot]

Sondo was taken slightly aback by how warmly Falco was received by the others. Sure, it was one thing to be friendly to him, but this? One would think Falco had been separated from them accidentally rather than striking off on his own, abandoning them all. Sondo said nothing, however; he did not care for another argument, and if he started it, they might side with Falco this time. What they would do, he wasn’t sure, but ultimately he wanted them united, and with him as leader. Still, he couldn’t help but wish that they were at least a little bit more hostile... like Sassy, he thought, noting his sister’s attitude. While not openly unfriendly, she was certainly the least welcoming of the bunch. Falco had noticed it, too, as had some of the others. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He had an idea.

He put a scowl on his face and directed it at Sassy, as if annoyed with her for not being more welcome. It was easy enough - he had plenty of practice being angry with her. “Sassy,” he said gruffly, “Come with me for a moment.” He didn’t say it loudly, but sometimes the lower voice drew more attention. He knew the other hobbits had heard, whether they acknowledged it or not. For a moment Sondo thought Sassy would refuse (how like her! he thought. Just when I really need her.), but at a look from him she followed after.

A little ways away he murmured, “It’s an act. Play along.” He took her far enough so that he knew they were out of earshot, by not out of view. Everything about his posture and gestures would suggest he was giving her an upbraiding.

“Listen closely, Sassy,” he said softly. “I can tell you don’t trust Falco. Neither do I at this point, though they do, seemingly.” He gestured off towards them in case any were watching. “But I can’t act upon those mistrusts. It’s my job to keep them all together and get us home. But you - you’re ‘just’ the little sister that isn’t even supposed to be here in the first place. They probably expect a wrong word from you, and that mistrust doesn’t seem so out of place coming from you. They don’t pay as much attention to you; they’ll probably say things around you that they might not around me. I’m not so sure that Falco isn’t up to something - you may have noticed, he hasn’t apologized yet, or even said anything to me except the general greeting to everyone.” Sondo knew he was running a risk by confiding in Sassy like this, but based on the others’ reactions to Falco, he didn’t trust any of them with something like this. “I want you to keep an eye on Falco for me, let me know if he does anything that seems suspicious, okay? And, please, be discrete about it. If they suspect... just don’t draw attention. If you need to, wake me up during your watch at night. Okay?”

[Primrose Bolger]

As Sondo was talking to her, Sassy grew a little irritated. Here he was wanting her help and saying all the wrong things. Did he really think she wanted to be reminded that she was ‘just the little sister’ and that she wasn’t really supposed to be here at all. Sometimes he was so annoying!

The sincerity of his request did sink in as he talked on. And she began to soften a bit, because in her heart she agreed with him. Falco was a sneak, big rat. And she was going to keep her eye on him anyway. Her impish nature, however, was not going to let her agree to Sondo’s plan so readily. He was her big brother after all. And how many chances did she get to make him squirm a little. A mischievous twinkle glinted in her eyes as she raised her grimy face up to him.

‘Well . . . I could help you. ‘Cause you’re right, no one really takes too much notice of me. But . . . why should I help you?’ She put on a sour face and planted her hands on her hips. ‘What are you gonna do for me?’ She let him stew a bit, then threw out an offer.

Sassy pulled her little sling from her pocket. ‘You know . . . when we lost the raft and all got dunked in the river, I lost all my nice round stones for my sling. And we’ve been walking along so fast, I haven’t really had time to find many new ones.’ She pointed with her chin toward the area beyond their little camp. ‘Four eyes are better than two, Gran always says. And it wouldn’t take as long to get more stones if you came along.’ She looked up at him expectantly. ‘So . . . fair trade? You help me first, then I’ll help you . . .?’ She started toward the outskirts of their camp. ‘Come on!’

[Boromir88]

Day after day Rory continued to slowly plod on with the rest of the hobbits. Reggie and Falco were now back, like I didn't see that one coming, he thought to himself. Sondo may not be the best lad for the job, but he only saw Falco's attempt of leading, ending rottenly. It was not surprise, to Rory, when they both returned.

It seemed like weeks had gone by, but it was only a few days. The path was rough, and slow. Rory had not had a good meal since the first couple days of their journey. Everyone was counting on Sassy and Bingo to bring back some food for them, but so far, it's been little success. Rory had to count on whatever berries he could find, if any.

He then looked down at his shirt. It was so worn, and stained, he couldn't tell what color it was supposed to be. He tucked in his shirt, since his pants felt much bigger. Oh what I wouldn't give to be back at Brandy Hall again. Back in the warm beds, and waking up to the smell of bacon and fried eggs. He came back to reality. Just like the previous days before, he began to slowly trod on, barely being recognized.

[Kitanna]

Marroc was happy. All the Hobbits were together again. Reggie had returned first and now Falco. Marroc sincerly hoped they could all get along this time.

"Glad you came around, Falco." Marroc said patting him on the back. When Falco first left Marroc was annoyed at his arrogance, but seeing Falco standing there, looking tired and hungry, he thought how humbled the young hobbit looked.

It seemed Marroc was not the only one happy to see Falco. Bingo and Sam had greeted him with warm smiles. It was Sassy who was the most annoyed with Falco's return. She probably still saw him as a traitor. She had every right to, but Marroc hoped that her mistrust subsided soon.

Sassy had been pulled aside by Sondo. He was giving her a little talk, no doubt about her attitude toward Falco.

Marroc looked away from the brother and sister and back to Falco. "You should rest a bit Falco, you look too tired to stand."

[Crystal Heart]

Sam smiled, but he could see that Falco was not his regular self. He placed a hand upon the young hobbit's arm and looked at him concerned.

"You should really rest. You do not look well, Falco. Are you alright?" Sam asked concerned.

Sam's mind whirled with memories. He was unsure if everything had truly had, but he realized that this journey had changed him. Changed him in such a way that he would never be the same again. He owed everything to this journey and he was truly, deeply thankful that he had taken this journey with these hobbits. To him they would always be his closest friends, united through this journey's bond. Sam had never felt a feeling like it in all of his life.

[Firefoot]

Sondo ground his jaw in irritation. He should have expected that she might try to bargain with him. He knew she had a point though; there really wasn’t anything in it for her. He did need her, however, so he nodded in resignation to her request.

“Deal,” he agreed. “But hang on, Sassy, I’m supposed to be scolding you here.” He winked. “Try to act like I told you to be nice to Falco, whether you would listen to that advice or not...” He sighed. She could be so difficult. “And I can’t exactly help you look for stones right now - it would look pretty bad if I yelled at you and then helped you.” He expected her to see the sense in that. She was young, but smart enough. Too smart for her own good. My own good, he thought ruefully.

He took a step to go after her back to the others when he halted abruptly, frowning. He heard voices, and not hobbit voices either, or he was a Dwarf. He glanced over his shoulder uneasily. The people the voices belonged to were hidden by a broadly sloping hill. He was thankful for that. It meant they couldn’t see the hobbits either. He would bet that they had heard them though, and they didn’t sound like nice voices.

“Sassy,” he whispered urgently, “go tell the others to be quiet." He would have told them to hide, too, except there wasn’t anywhere to hide, unless he counted the occasional hill or the distant tree cover. “I hear someone, over behind that hill. I’m going to find out what’s going on.” He hurried off toward the slope, keeping low as he ascended. He lay flat upon reaching the top, poking his head up so he could see. What he saw worried him.

There were four of the Big Folk down there. No, five, Sondo corrected himself as he saw another approaching from the left. Had he not been so concerned, he might have been fascinated - he had never seen any Big Folk before. The shortest of them was probably twice his own height, and all of them were burly and rather muscular looking. Their hair was dark, their skin tan. But their looks were not what caught Sondo’s immediate attention. They had supplies! Currently, they seemed to have stopped for lunch, same as the hobbits had been about to do. The difference was that they actually had food (they seemed to be cooking a stew of some kind) - and plenty of it, judging by the lumpy saddlebags on their horses, which seemed quite large to Sondo, being used to short, sturdy ponies as he was. His stomach rumbled at the thought of a square meal, and he began to wonder if there wasn’t some way to filch some food off of them, be it steal or otherwise.

“They should prove easy to catch,” the approaching one was saying. “They look young, and mostly unarmed. There’s somewhere between five and ten of ’em.” Sondo winced. They had been not only heard but also seen by these horrible Big Folk! How had they been so careless as not to know of them before? What was more, these men seemed intent on capturing them! Just why, Sondo was unable to figure out, and once the fifth man got close enough to the others, their voices got quieter and Sondo couldn’t discern the words. Hastily, he edged away from the top of the hill and upon reaching the bottom he sprinted off toward the others. What could they do? They would not get very far if they tried to run, because of the men’s horses. The men knew they were there; where could they go? Besides... he wanted some of their food.

Despite the situation, Sondo could not be more happy with the challenge. These were the type of problems he was deft at figuring out, the types of plans he might cook up at home. By the time he had reached the group, he had a sketchy plan worked out. Most of them would stay up here and act as the ‘bait’ for the men. Sondo never even considered that some of them might be caught; the men were bigger, but Big Folk were just that: big and clumsy and probably not so smart. A few, however, would sneak down there, and when the Big Folk came after the ones left, those couple would get into their supplies and take what they needed. Then they would just have to escape. He grinned wickedly to himself. This was what adventurers were supposed to do! (Though perhaps they usually went after gold and not food, he amended to himself, and banished the thought.)

Upon reaching the group, he quickly explained the problem, telling them about the Big Folk and their supplies and horses, and how they wanted to capture them. He did not, however, explain his plan, or even say that he had one. He wanted to hear their ideas first, then spring his idea, because otherwise he might risk the whole of them going against him. With Falco recently returned, he wanted that not at all. “The biggest problem,” he finished, “is that they know we’re here, and our situation. If we try to run away, they’d probably find us pretty quick on their horses. And there really isn’t much place to hide around here. So now we have to figure out what to do.”

[Primrose Bolger]

All thoughts of getting the best of the deal with Sondo flew from Sassy’s mind.

They looked like giants to her. Following after Sondo despite his telling her to go back to the others with his message, she’d only had a quick peek before Sondo sent her off again, and already her imagination had them tall as the trolls her Granny had told her stories of. Not bedtime stories, which would have scared her half to death – her and Granny both! No, these tales had always been told in the bright sun, while they shelled peas or fixed the snap beans. It was sunny now, but still Sassy shivered at the images of those tall, rough looking creatures.

She ran as quickly as her little legs would carry her back to where the others were talking and joking and laughing. ‘Shhh!’ she whispered, as loudly as she dared. They looked at her, some with dismissal in their faces. But before any could say, ‘Oh, it’s only Sassy . . .’ she motioned for them to gather near her.

In a low voice and as hurriedly as she could manage, she told them what Sondo had spied. He’d be back soon him she told them to let them know what to do, but until then he wanted them just to keep very quiet.

-o-o-o-

In short time, Sondo had returned and laid out his plan to the others. Sassy could see the boys nodding their heads. And then some began to speak up with additional ideas. But Sassy was scared. She was not as big as any of the boys. The giants would probably boil her up for stew with taters and carrots! Her imagination ran away with her completely and she began to panic.

Edging away from the boys and Sondo, she hurried to a little place she’d noted earlier. Two thick bushes grew near a small boulder. She was just small enough to wriggle in beneath the tangle of roots and thick limbs. Through the thick leaves she could just barely see out, enough to know when to close her eyes and quiet her breathing if one of the Big Folk got near. Sassy settled her back against the rock. She drew her knees tight up against her chest, her arms wrapped round them. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she hoped the giants wouldn’t hear it.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo sat off on his own a considerable distance from the rest of the group watching as his friends merrily put forward ideas for squelching the Big Folk. One lad boasted that he was a sure match for any big bully and would be glad to offer himself as bait. Bingo wondered if he really believed that or just wanted to impress the others. For the first time since the fight with Falco, Sondo looked happy and confident, revelling in the possibility of pulling off a trick that would humiliate the stupid lugs and guarantee his own position as leader. For most of the hobbits, their return to Buckland no longer seemed a dull and hungry trek northward, but part of a real adventure.

Unfortunately, Bingo was not so happy. He did not want to be thought of as a coward, and he liked the idea of finding some food, but he was also worried about what might happen. Since his own mother hailed from Bree, he had had dealings with the Big Folk, unlike the other hobbits in their group. Even as a youngster, Bingo had journeyed to his grandparents and had visited a number of their larger neighbors. He had liked some of these Big Folk and disliked others, really not too different from how he felt about some hobbits he knew. But he would never think of a big person as automatically stupid. Bingo had met a dumb Man or two, but he had also encountered some very clever fellows, both good and bad, whom he would not care to anger.

Influencing his feelings was the stark fact that ruffians had killed his parents. All his parents’ sharp wits and speed hadn’t prevented them from being slain on the road back from Bree to Brandy Hall. And the kind of Big Folk that Sondo was describing sounded just like the bad ‘uns who had accosted his parents on their journey home. Bingo wanted nothing to do with such miserable and threatening fellows. Immediate flight seemed like the better choice. Perhaps they could shrink into the thick bushes and nettles where the Men’s horses would be hard pressed to follow. He wondered what Reggie was thinking, but his brother had been quite small when their parents had been killed. Maybe he saw it differently and was not so afraid.

Bingo knew he should raise his voice and say something to Sondo, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The others would probably laugh and call him a coward. Overwhelmed with his inability to do anything helpful, Bingo restlessly sprang up, tromped further away, and plopped down in frustration on a small protruding boulder. Suddenly, he felt a tiny tapping on his foot. Squatting down and peering between the bushes, he caught a glimpse of two frightened eyes staring out at him. He bent down lower and looked inside. There was Sassy curled up like a badger inside a hedge. Even this close, he could barely see her.

“Sassy, is that you? It’s Bingo. Me….. Not one of the bad ‘uns. Stick your head out and talk. I don’t like this any better than you. My ma and da were killed by ugly folk like these, and I don’t relish fighting them. I don’t mean to cause trouble. I’m sure Sondo is doing his best. But I’m mighty afraid we’re about to make a very big mistake….”

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Bingo?’ she whispered. ‘Are the Big Folk near our camp yet?’ When he shook his head no, Sassy poked her face out just a bit. ‘They’ll be here real soon,’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘You better hide, too. Those fellows are awfully big!’

When Bingo made no move to crawl in with her, Sassy peeked out her whole head and took a look about. Seeing no giants lurking in the vicinity, she inched out and sat huddled near Bingo. ‘Sondo thinks he can trick them, you know,’ she continued. ‘But I saw them! They’re lots of them and they’re so big.’ She sidled up very close to him. ‘Do you suppose they have fangs?’ she whispered, shivering.

**********************

Child's post:

Despite his worry, Bingo could not help but smile at Sassy's image of the Big Folk. "Well, they're bad," he agreed, "but not as bad as that. No fangs or horns or anything odd. Just a bigger version of a hobbit. They can be strong but often they're slower than we are. We do have soemthing else going in our favor. Sometimes, when the Big Folk see us, they get so wrapped up thinking how big they are that they can get careless and let down their guard. Let's hope that's so, and that your brother's plan will fool them."

As Bingo talked, he actually felt a bit more optomistic. Perhaps Sondo was right about these srangers and the chances of taking them in with a ruse. "Anyways," he added, "I don't think either of us want to let your brother down. Let's go have a look and see if we can help."

[Firefoot]

Though outwardly maintaining some semblance of seriousness, inwardly Sondo was absolutely thrilled, and it shone through a bit. After having listened closely to their bold statements and latching on to their enthusiasm, he had explained his plan and now they were more than willing to go along with it! Yes, this was the type of situation he knew best.

“Okay,” said Sondo, “I’ll need someone to go with me to take some of the Big Folk’s supplies.” He looked around for volunteers.

“I’ll go with you,” someone piped up. Sondo looked; it was Rory. The promise of a real adventure seemed to have perked him up a bit

“And me,” said another, only an instant following. This time Marroc had spoken. Sondo nodded. “That’s settled then: Rory and Marroc will go with me.” Marroc was trusty enough, but Rory would not have been his first choice for a companion - ever since the day they had split Sondo had gotten the impression that Rory did not trust him fully. He had followed along, though, so Sondo didn’t push it. For now, Rory seemed as eager as the rest of them for this escapade to begin. Except, noted Sondo, Bingo, who seemed less than thrilled with his plan, yet thankfully said no word of dispute, or Sassy, who was just plain scared, but what was to be expected of a girl anyway?

“The rest of you, then,” continued Sondo, “will stay up here and wait for the Big Folk to come over here. You can spread out a bit first, and hide; make them have to look around before anything actually happens. It will just give Rory, Marroc, and me more time. Remember, they’re looking to capture us, no more. Once we’re done, you all will know; we’ll do something to make the Big Folk go back to their camp or something. Then we’ll have to get out of here, and quick. Just like at home when we don’t want to get caught. All right?” There were nods and cries of agreement.

“Good. Come on, Rory, Marroc, let’s get going.” With a jaunty wave to the rest of them, he set out toward the hill with his companions. He held a finger to his lips for Rory and Marroc to stay quiet; the Big Folk could not know of their approach. He led them up to the base of the hill, then stopped.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” he whispered. “We’ll split up; that way if they see one of us, they won’t know we’re all three there. Marroc and Rory, you go around that side-” He pointed to the north end of the hill - “and conceal yourselves as best you can. I think there’s a tree that one of you can use. I’ll go around the other end. I don’t know which way the Big Folk will come over, so make sure they can’t see you, even if it means you have to go a little way away. Just make sure you’re within fairly easy distance of their camp, and can see it. If they leave a man to guard their stuff, well, I guess our best option will be to knock him out with a few well aimed stones. Once they’re gone, we have a few things that need doing. We only take as many supplies as we need and as we can carry. Hopefully there’ll be some smaller packs that we can use, but all I saw was saddlebags. We’ll also cut their horses lose, so they can’t follow us. And we’ll have to figure out some kind of signal to the rest of them. It needs to be pretty fast, too: get in, get what we need, get out. Got it?” They nodded to show that they did and broke off.

Sondo hurried off to his end of the hill and cast about for someplace to hide. He wished for a sparse forest, or even just some undergrowth. But the place was pretty barren. A tree grew off a little way to his right, but he would have to cross about fifteen feet of empty ground to get there, risking being seen. He was risking being spotted as it was, though, exposed against the side of the hill, and so decided it was worth it. The Big Folk seemed concerned about little else beside themselves; they seemed to have finished their lunch and were digging into their saddlebags. He waited until all their backs were more or less turned, and spanned the distance to the tree quickly. He squeezed himself up against the trunk, which was barely wide enough to hide him. He peeked around; they hadn’t seen him. The men spoke together for a few moments, and then four of them took off toward the hobbits, leaving a single guard as Sondo had expected. They carried ropes, and seemingly no more dangerous a weapon than knives. He hoped the others were ready. The time had come.

[Kitanna]

As soon as Sondo's plan was revealed Marroc knew he wanted, no he had to help. He hadn't been very good with the raft, he was not a very good hunter, but stealing he could do. He was used to sneaking into the kitchen and stealing bread or cheese from his mother. Of course stealing from the big folk would be different, but Marroc could move swiftly and softly. He was confident in himself and Rory that they could get away with plenty of food.

He eagerly followed behind Sondo and Rory toward the big folk's camp. He listened intently to Sondo's plan. Marroc nodded in agreement to all the other hobbit lad said. He was about to burst with excitement.

The three split off. Rory had plans of sneaking in from the back of the camp and Marroc would go in from the side.

Marroc crouched low to the ground and watched the big folk in their camp. He smiled to himself as he saw most of the men heading down toward his friends. They had left one guard at the camp. The young hobbit's heart beat so hard in his chest he thought the guard would surely hear it.

He waited a few moments before creeping out of his hiding place. Just like stealing bread or cheese, he told himself. He could see Rory creeping toward the camp as well. They caught each others eyes and nodded to one another.

The guard was keeping his back to their supplies. He seemed to be looking off toward where his friends had gone. Probably wishing he had gone, Marroc smirked. He had reached the saddlebags. He looked up, the guard's attentions was drawn away from the hobbit. Marroc turned his attention away from the guard for a moment.

Marroc slowly reached his hand into one of the bags. He was so quiet, he surprised himself. The guard moved, he looked like he might turn. Then a small rock hit the guard on the side of the head. He huffed and grumbled and headed in the direction it had come. Another larger rock came flying out and hit him in the temple. He landed with a thud in the dirt. Marroc smiled, obviously the work of Sondo.

Rory had joined Marroc and the two began to rifle through the bags.

[Boromir88]

Sondo barely had fininshed his plan when Rory piped up "I'll go with you." Rory felt lonely, and sort of forgotten, the last several days. He wondered if he shouldn't have openly told Sondo his problems with him. He looked into all the hobbits' eyes, wondering if they mistrusted him. Finally something I can do to help, something I'm good at. We've been starving, and I've done nothing except be another person to feed. What could I have done? I've never hunted before. Finally something I'm good at, he thought. This should be easy, it'll be like back at home again. It'll be like borrowing things from my sister. Rory grinned, but what he didn't realize was the possible dangers. Once Rory had a plan of being up to no good, he often ignored the possible consequences; getting himself into trouble.

Marroc came with Sondo and Rory, they set off, and soon halted, where Sondo laid out the plan. Rory nodding his head in enthusiasm, agreeing splitting up was the best way.

They split up Sondo to one side, Rory and Marroc to the other. Rory then told Marroc he was going around the back, and that way they can hopefully trap him. He began to sneak quietly around the side of the hill, until he saw the back of the guard. He nodded to Marroc and Sondo who we both in position. Marroc was such a sneaky lad, he got right in behind him, Rory looked on with excitement.

Then a moment of terror hit Rory, it looked like the guard was going to spot Marroc. The guard began to look around. Rory jumped up, to get Marroc out of there, when a clonk was heard. The guard whipped around to Sondo's side, when another rock came flying in, cracking him in the head, and knocking him out.

Sondo sprang up, alongside Marroc, with Rory. "I suspect he's going to be out for a while and with quite a headache." Rory chuckled. He was glad to see the brute unconscious. "That was a mighty hit Sondo, pal."

[Crystal Heart]

Sam wasn't sure he exactly wanted to steal from the Big Folks. They were so much more powerful then he was, but he wanted to be a hero.

"I will come with you as well if you need me of course," Sam piped up. No one answered him and he believed that it would just be better if he stayed with the rest of the group. Especially Sassy, not that he didn't believe that she couldn't take care of herself, but she was the only girl on this journey and she would be extra vulnerable to the Big Folk. He only hoped that they wouldn't find her. He didn't want to have to hurt anyone, hobbit or Big Folk alike.

[Primrose Bolger]

There were four of them . . . and the closer they got, the bigger they loomed. The light was behind them as they drew close to the makeshift camp, faceless with the sun at their backs. It threw their jagged shadows before them . . . reaching out like dark wraiths . . .

Sassy’s knees shook as she watched them run with their coils of rope hung over their shoulders, their fists balled as they hastened toward the Hobbits. At their belts hung knives, she noted and two of them had large sacks looped through their belts, also. She had her little sling in her left hand and with her right hand she scrabbled through her vest pockets for what few stones she had left.

There was really no plan for those left in camp. As far as she could figure out they were just supposed to annoy the Big Folk, make them keep their attention on the Hobbits in the camp and off the three who were stealing supplies. Her own little plan, thrown together after Bingo ran off, was to jump up from behind the little rocky outcropping at the edge of the camp. Sling a few rocks at the men, then dodge away as fast as she could to somewhere they couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t let any of them get too close . . . she was a good enough shot she could do that . . .

Two of them had run past her chasing some of her companions before she worked up the courage to put her plan in action. She scrabbled to the top of her rock and swung her loaded sling round and round, taking aim she let fly two rocks, one after another, hitting the man running past her now in the leg and in the arm.

‘I should run now,’ she thought to herself, seeing the stones had hit their mark. But he had growled and turned toward her. She could see his face, glaring at her. Sassy froze, a rabbit caught in a sudden light from a hunter’s lantern. A sudden gasp brought her to herself; she fell from her perch and scrabbled wildly to get to her feet and run . . . just run . . .

Just run! she screamed to herself.

The man she’d hit with her stones was not quick enough to catch up with her. She was going to get away. Hope gave wings to her feet as she flew from him.

But the last of the Big Folk, the one she hadn’t focused on, had seen her, too. And he angled toward her as she fled, his long legs running more rapidly than her little ones. He knocked her down, cuffing her on the side of the head hard with his coil of rope. Sassy fell and he grabbed her up roughly by her collar and stuffed her into his burlap sack. Stars and darkness swam in her head from the blow and the fall as he slung the bag over his back.

‘Got one of the little runts!’ she heard a gruff voice say before darkness took her . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo watched in horror as the ruffian snatched up Sassy and stuffed her inside the bag, heaving it over his shoulder. All Bingo could see in his mind's eye was the sad picture of his parents brought low by the nasties who had attacked them on the road. Whatever happened, he wasn't going to let them do that to Sassy. A tiny seed of rage was planted and suddenly exploded inside the usually quiet hobbit.

He lunged down and picked up a pointed branch that was as heavy as a cudgel, brandishing it menacingly in front of him and running pell-mell towards the ruffian who was trying to kidnap Sassy. At the same time he let out a stupendous roar, "Reggie, anybody, come quick. The rascal's got Sassy. We need to get her back."

Bingo came crashing into the ruffian and whacked both his legs with the stick. The rascal had not been expecting any serious resistence and stumbled, sending the bag flying to the other end of the grove where it landed on top of a treestump with a thump. Bingo could see that Sassy was still squirming and sqawling inside. Bingo turned around and lunged for the sack intending to untie it and let Sassy out.

Suddenly from behind, another of the no-goods came sprinting forward and collided with him, propelling him to his knees. The fellow raised up his knife above Bingo's head and, with a wide sweep of his arm, began to bring the blade down with great force. Unable to break free, Bingo closed his eyes and, in sheer terror, waited for the blow to fall.

[Encaitare]

Reggie had not known what to do in the face of the ruffians -- what could they possibly want with a few young hobbits? They looked so tall and strong, and in their presence he was frozen. But with Bingo's cry for help returned his wits, and he scrambled in the direction of the call whilst trying to remain out of sight. He looked worriedly around, hoping he would see Falco or anyone else who might be able to help, but no one was to be found.

As he ran, he saw a figure appear over the top of a large rock -- one of the Big Folk. Bingo had just hit him, and the Man stumbled in surprise. Reggie mentally cheered for his big brother. An instant later, though, another Man was right on top of Bingo. Reggie quickly stooped to find a stone to throw, grabbing the first on he laid eyes on. It was not an ideal stone, but it would have to do, for the Man had pulled out his knife.

Popping up from behind the rock, he threw the stone as hard as he could at the Man who was threatening his brother. The irregularity of the rick meant that it would not knock anyone out, but the shape worked in their favor: a sharp point on it cut the Man's temple. He froze in mid-strike and cried out, slapping a hand to the small wound. Reggie ducked back down again, and though he was relieved that Bingo had escaped certain death for the present, now the Big Folk were heading towards him, following the direction of the stone's throw...

[Firefoot]

Sondo shook his head with a sigh at the motionless figure on the ground. Big Folk, he decided, are awfully easy targets. Much easier than squirrels, or birds, or even Sassy. The last brought a reminiscent smile to his face. So far, the Big Folk were proving everything that he had assumed true: they were slow, unobservant (Marroc had snuck in right under his nose!), and apparently stupid (he had turned right toward the rock throw without a thought of defense!). He had no time to dwell on it, though; already he was hearing some shouts from the other side. They needed to get out of there quickly.

He went to join Marroc and Rory who were methodically sorting through the supplies in one of the saddlebags. They were finding some food, thankfully, as well as other amenities. At least the Big Folk were smart enough to bring along proper supplies.

Rory was chuckling. "That was a mighty hit, Sondo pal."

Sondo cocked his head. "It was an easy shot." He glanced down at the supplies. "Have we got anything to carry this stuff in?" Sondo asked the two.

Marroc shook his head no. "These saddlebags would be very unwieldly to carry around, and the men don't carry packs." Sondo frowned thoughtfully. He was good at improvising, and an idea came to him shortly. Marroc and Rory waited expectantly.

"They have some blankets, right?" he asked. "We can tie the stuff up in those. That should be easy enough to carry away from here." He helped them unfold a couple of blankets small enough for hobbits to carry, and then they started heaping supplies onto them. Sondo dragged another of the saddlebags over.

"Take what you can out of this," he said, "and then tie 'em up. We need to be finishing up here, before our friends can get into any trouble over there. I'm going to go try to free their horses."

He left Rory and Marroc to their work and slowly approached the seemingly monstrous beasts. Their hooves looked quite capable of crushing him. The nearest one, a tall bay, snorted uneasily and lifted its front feet up a few inches. Sondo hesitated. He wasn't afraid. Of course not. He took out his short knife and took a step closer. Then he realized that their reins, which had been tied to the branch of a tree, were out of his reach.

"Hey, I'm going to need some help," he called to Marroc and Rory. The tension seemed to have spread to all of the horses. They did not look comfortable around Sondo at all; the feeling was mutual. Sondo could ride a pony well enough, but that was about as far as his connection to animals went. He hoped one of them wasn't about to kick him or anything. He swallowed his discomfort and continued, "Could one of you give me a leg up? They're tied out of reach."

[Crystal Heart]

Sam was hiding, something that he knew was completely cowardly when his friends were near death at this moment. He watched from his position behind a tree as one of the men started for Reggie. Sam swallowed his fear, took a deep breath, and lunged from his hiding place screaming at the top of his lungs. He ran towards the man, not really knowing what he would do, but only thinking to save Reggie and the others from their fates.

He ran towards the man and smashed into his leg, biting down hard. The man let out a howl and grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to pull him off. Sam pushed his teeth together harder. The man smashed his head, successfuly sending Sam's mind into a tail spin. Dizzy, but determined Sam started swinging with all his might. He could feel his fists connecting with the man's legs. He was again grabbed by the back of his shirt and lifted up. Sam's eyes soon looked into the man's eyes.

"Why you little..." the man gruffed out. Sam spit quickly and punched in nose. The man didn't let go. Sam hit him harder, in the temples in a vain attempt to escape. His mind suddenly remembered the rock that he had found while he had been walking. It was not a large rock, but a rock all the same. He pulled it out and smashed it against the man's temple with all his might. The man's hand slacked and Sam fell to the ground with a hard thud.

Even though Sam could no longer breath, he jumped up and watched as the man toppled upon the ground. Sam gasped a jagged breath and jumped on top of the man, readying to continue his battle, but found that the man was unconscious. Sam jumped off and looked around.

Finally, Sam spied the bag that they had put Sassy in. It lay upon the ground where the man had dropped it. He ran over and opened it hastily, praying silently that the young girl was still alive. He pulled her out and studied her face.

"Sassy? Are you alive? Please please please be alive!"

[Kitanna]

"Could you give me a leg up?" Sondo called to Rory and Marroc.

"I'll help him, Rory, you keep packing supplies." Marroc got to his feet and hurried over to Sondo.

The horses were tense and snorted nervously as Sondo and Marroc came closer. Seperately the hobbits were far too short to dare to untie the animals, but if Sondo climbed onto Marroc's shoulders he might be able to reach. "Come on, Sondo. If you sit on my shoulders you'll be able to reach the ropes."

Marroc bent over slightly so Sondo could climb onto his back. "Move forward slowly, Marroc." Sondo said, once he was on Marroc's shoulders.

Marroc took a few small steps at first. When he was confident in his ability to carry Sondo he moved a little faster. Sondo reached out and began to untie the first horse's reigns. Marroc was surprisingly steady with the other hobbit's weight on his shoulders.

The first four horses were relatively easy to untie. But when it came time to untie the last horse they heard the growls. Marroc recognized it as a wolf's and he forgot that Sondo was still counting on him. Marroc lost his footing and hit the ground with thud. Sondo landed hard next to him.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy was dazed from the blow to her head when the sack had gone flying from the man’s hands and landed hard against the tree stump. She heard someone calling her name, but it seemed from some far off place. And then the light flooded into her eyes as the dark sack was opened. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light, somewhat. There was a blurry Hobbit’s face looming over her and when she turned her head, the Big Folk were still near.

Head ringing, her vision still quite blurry, Sassy pushed away at whoever was kneeling over her. She whimpered, then forced the sound to stillness, not wanting to attract the attention of the Men. Sassy rolled over and got slowly to her knees then to her feet. At a wobbly run, she took off for the shelter of what trees were near.

Safe, behind a fate tree trunk, she sunk to her knees, her head reeling from the blow and the run. Quietly as she could, she leaned over and threw up.

[Firefoot]

The sounds of fighting, not too far distant, reached the ears of a wolf pack. They had tracked the short two-leggeds this far in hopes of being led to an area of more plentiful game. Two-leggeds did not make good meat, unless and the wolves did not eat them unless no other choices were available. The wolves were reaching that point now; usually by this late in spring the effects of winter had been entirely erased, but not this year. Game had been scarce, and the gaunt wolves were hungry.

But fighting: who was fighting their short two-leggeds? It was a matter of concern for the wolves, and bore checking out. The alpha male, a rangy wolf with tan fur, rose from his relaxed position with a growl and a few yips. Come. We find what happens. The rest of the small pack, numbering six in total, loped after their leader. As they approached, they crept up a low rise on their bellies to observe the scene below them.

The wolves were quick to grasp the situation; once they did, hackles were not slow in raising and low growls escaped their throats. These short two-leggeds were their quarry, part of their territory, and their fates would ultimately be decided by them. The alpha male’s growl changed pitch: these two-leggeds go too far. They must pay.

With a snarl, he sprung from his crouched position toward the fight, about a hundred yards distant. The other five leapt after him. Instantly the focus of the fight switched from short two-leggeds against big two-leggeds to two-leggeds against wolves. One of the short ones flung a stone at him, which connected solidly with his muzzle. While it was not enough to inflict real damage, it still hurt, and infuriated the leader wolf. He forgot for a moment that he did not intend to hurt the short two-leggeds and attacked the one who had thrown the stone. His miscalculated his victim’s reaction, however, so instead of taking a solid chunk out of the two-legged’s face he only gashed its arm, albeit deeply. Ah, but it was good to taste blood again!

Now, however, the two-leggeds had recovered from their initial shock being attacked, and they had taken out their bright steel weapons. He felt one cut across his side and snarled in pain, turning on his attacker. You will pay, two-legged. You will pay.

~*~*~*~

Sondo

With Marroc’s help, Sondo had managed to cut free all the horses save the last when the first snarls were heard. The horses had not gone far once free, but now, hearing the wolves, they fled in a blind panic. The last horse, finding itself held captive, reared against the restraining reins with a frightened whinny. Marroc forgot for a bare moment that only he was holding Sondo up, backed away instinctively from the dangerous hooves, and lost his balance, causing Sondo to fall hard. He put his hands out in front to break the fall and the moment he hit the ground he regretted it. Pain seared up his left forearm from his wrist. He had no doubt that it was sprained, at the least.

He had no choice but to ignore it for now, though. He sprang to his feet. “Forget about the last horse,” he said, keeping away from the panicked animal. “We’ve been too long; we need to take what we have and go. It sounds like they’re in trouble.” Sondo wondered if it was the wolves he had heard some nights. A shivver ran up his spine. That could get bloody.

Rory hefted the smaller of the two loads up on his back while Sondo, careful of his wrist, helped Marroc with the more unwieldly one. They went as fast as they could carrying the stolen supplies and dropped them off around the side of the hill where Marroc had hidden earlier as they comprehended the horrific sight before them. Quick as a blink, Sondo stooped, picked up a stone, and hurled it at the nearest wolf's head.

"Come on!" he urged the other two. "We need to get them away from here, and leave the wolves and Big Folk to each other."

[Crystal Heart]

Sam was quite offended by the fact that Sassy had pushed him away, but he figured that she didn't realize who he was. He watched as she got up and proceeded to throw up. His heart broke at the sight, but he was unsure of what to do. This journey had changed his heart and his want to be better instead of horrible, which of course was all great and good, but it didn't help him now. His past was filled with horrible behavior and now that he had changed he had no idea how to comfort anyone.

He walked over to her and placed his hand upon her back, grabbing her hair and holding it up and out of her way as she threw up the contents that had been inside her stomach moments before. He looked up and that's when he saw them, the most dreaded thing in the entire world; wolves.

Sam pulled Sassy down to the ground and pinned her. He placed his hand on her mouth and gave her a sharp look.

"Don't say anything," he whispered dangeriously.

[Nurumaiel]

Falco crouched behind the tall rock, breathing as softly as he could and listening to the noises. His previous good feelings at the warm welcomes given to him were now replaced, at least partially, by a feeling of resentment that nobody had paid much attention to him when they made their plans concerning the Big Folk. He was not so foolish as to think they should keep on welcoming him back when danger was near, but he did not like the fact that they had forgotten, or maybe even never realised, that his legs were in no condition to be doing much running and hiding. When the others had all scattered about, he had limped painfully about, looking for somewhere he might hide, as he knew it would be useless to try to help them, unless he wanted to get himself killed and risk the lives of his friends. He had found the rock, and ducked behind it, but wondered nervously what would happen if one of the Big Folk came around it and saw him.

He had heard the strange snarling, and it had not taken him long to realise that there were wolves about. His position behind the rock, he realised, was now useless. Wouldn't they smell him out? He had to find a place where he could be hidden from the Big Folk, but out of reach of the wolves. He began to feel, for the first time on their adventure, frightened. It was not the thought of wolves and Big Folk that frightened him, though that thought was slightly disturbing. Falco was a bold, and slightly reckless lad. But it was the thought that there were wolves and Big Folk about, and that he could not run from them, that struck a chill of fear into his heart.

He heard the tread of feet on the other side of the rock, and realised right away that it was not the light skip of hobbit feet, nor the clumsy stamping of the Big Folk, but the stealthy, pattering tread of a wolf. He had previously consider making his way to a tree and pulling himself up onto it, but that was now out of the question. He looked desperately around, and at last up, and saw the top of the rock he hid underneath. He got softly to his feet, and studied the rock face. It was not sheer, but it was steep enough that a wolf might not be able to follow him up... and steep enough to provide a challenge to climb it, as his legs were sore and aching, and his whole body was rather faint and limp.

Nevertheless, he must climb it for his life, and climb it he would. He found a foothold, a ledge to grasp, and he began to slowly pull himself up. His weak arms rebelled against the strain put on them, his feet against the climbing, but he ignored them. He could hear the panting of the wolf now, and was assured that it was growing closer. For a moment he was tempted to scramble wildly up, despite that he might slip and fall and lose himself altogether, but he recalled something his older brother had told him once and it steadied him. Wolves, he had said, weren't the kind of fellows who ran about eating up little hobbits just for the fun of it. They were rather shy of people, and wouldn't want to go attack and eat one unless they were terribly hungry. Falco drew a little, quiet breath, and continued his steady pace up the rock.

Over the edge and onto the surface he climbed, and looked down. A wolf passed softly by him, lifted its head to look up at him intently for a moment, and then, after that pause, tread on. Falco drew a very deep breath, not caring how loud it was, and began to move towards the center of the rock. He had finished the escaping bit. Now he must hide.

[Kitanna]

“Forget about the last horse. We’ve been too long; we need to take what we have and go. It sounds like they’re in trouble.” Sondo and Marroc were backing away from the horse. The others had fled in their blind fear. Marroc didn't blame them.

Rory had two small packs and Marroc another one. They ran back to camp. It was a scene of chaos. Wolves snapping at the big folk and the hobbits. Sondo grabbed a rock and hurled it at a wolf.

Marroc followed his lead and hit one square on the jaw. The angered wolf turned to him and snarled. Marroc picked up another rock. This time the beast was ready. He snarled at Marroc. The young hobbit was too frightened to move. The wolf lunged at Marroc, Marroc moved aside quickly, but still the wolf caught his leg. As the wolf landed Marroc swung the bag he was carrying and knocked the wolf off balance.

"Come on!" Sondo called, trying to round up the hobbits. Marroc took a moment and inspected his cut. Nothing serious, not even all that deep. Well, that's a relief, he thought as he went after Sondo.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy was not about to be held down by some boy, friend or no. First the Big Folk; now wolves . . . now Sam acting . . . acting . . . stupid! She tried yelling out at him that they needed to run . . . run fast . . . and hide. But Sam’s hand was clamped down on her mouth and all that came out was some muffled grunting. Sassy opened her mouth a bit and clamped onto Sam’s hand with her teeth. Not too hard, but just enough for him to let out a squeal of pain. He drew back a little and she pushed away at him with her arms, scrambling out from beneath him.

‘Run!’ she screamed, taking off in an opposite direction from where the wolves and Big Folk were clustered. Sassy ran deeper into trees at the edge of their campsite, heedless of whether anyone else was going the same way. Her imagination kept pace with her. At her heels she could hear a wolf. She was sure of it. A huge beast . . . no, beyond huge . . . gigantic. The wind that stirred her curls as she ran seemed like the creature’s breath drawing nearer and nearer.

If anyone called to her, she did not hear them. Fear ruled her thoughts as her little arms pumped wildly, as her feet flew over the dirt striving to get away. At last, when her breath had grown ragged and her legs heavy with weariness, Sassy spied a tree. A lucky tree, she thought, reaching its welcoming trunk.

The branches grew low enough for her to clamber up onto them and make her way quite high up. She hunkered down in the angle of one of the upper branches and the trunk, and closed her eyes tight for a moment telling herself she was safe. She opened her eyes after a while and looked about her, her ears wide for any sounds. But there were none, only the sound of the breeze in the branches. With a sigh, she lay down on the broad limb. Her eyes grew weary after a short while and shut of their own accord . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo peered out from between the branches of his leafy bower; the ground was far below but he had a good vantage point and could see everything that was happening. He had a distant glimpse of Sassy who had raced over to a tree well back from where the action was occurring. He could not tell for sure, but she was slumped over the limb in such a relaxed fashion that he guessed she was asleep. Bingo could hardly suppress a chuckle. Sassy was small and young but she must have iron nerves! He could not imagine falling asleep with the fear that the wolves might uncover their hiding spots.

His own heart thumped wildly against his chest. For the most part, his own companions had scattered and had managed to find safe places to hide: some in trees and others in rocks or climbing up jagged slopes. "The Big Folk, however, for the most part were trying to fight. A number of them were getting the short end of the stick. It seemed to Bingo that they would have been better off trying to flee or take cover. The fact they hadn't done that probably meant Big Folk could be incredibly stubborn and too proud for their own good.

One of the wolf pack had fallen, but a number of the others still fought on darting in and out between the sharp swinging blades. One of the Men had been hurt. Instantly the pack converged on him, tearing at his legs and lunging forward to attack his face and body. In a moment the Man was down. Bingo clung tightly to his branch and wondered how long they would have to wait until the pack went away and he and the others could come out of their hiding places.

For a moment during the fighting he had actually forgotten he was ravenously hungry. Now the gnawing sensation in his stomach had returned. In desperation he even began to wonder what roast wolf would taste like. If the rest of the pack ate their full of man flesh and then ran off, and it was safe to build a fire, he vowed to try a meal of grilled wolf-on-a-stick.

[Encaitare]

He had thought he was done for when the Man started approaching his hiding place, but the wolves proved ample distraction.

That sure was lucky, Reggie found himself thinking, before fully realizing that his situation had just gone from bad to worse. Or maybe not.

He dared not move from his hiding-spot, not wanting to attract the attention of the wolves, in case they thought a nice little hobbit would make a tasty and easy meal. Briefly he wondered whether it would be worse to die of starvation in the woods, or torn to bits by the ravenous creatures. Just stay calm, Reggie, be calm. They'll go away. Keep your head.

Curled up behind the rock, he could not see anything. But he could still hear, and that was more than enough. The snarling of the wolves, the shouts of the Big Folk... a Man's death-cry as he went down. Reggie squeezed his eyes shut tight and wished that he could do the same with his ears.

[Firefoot]

As the wolves turned on the Big Folk, Sondo backed off, Rory and Marroc with him. The rest of the hobbits had scattered. No more did he heed the conflicting groups, and turned instead to his friends.

“Can you two carry the supplies we took by yourselves?” he asked. They nodded. “Okay. Can you take them to that stand of trees?” He pointed to a small thicket about a half mile distant, the way to which was largely hidden from the Big Folk and wolves. “We need to gather together and get out of here, but everyone has scattered. I’m going to try to round them up and send them your way.” They agreed to this plan and struck off toward where they had left the bundles. Sondo took off at a jog in the direction he had seen his sister fleeing. He wasn’t sure how much time he had; already a wolf and one of the Big Folk had been killed, and he did not want to be there when one side prevailed.

He found Sam before he found Sassy. He was hiding out in the midst of a few trees, clearly debating whether to stay there or not.

“Sam?” called Sondo softly.

“Sondo! Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.

Sondo nodded, not really paying attention to the question. “Look, Sam, do you know where Sassy headed?” He knew that the two had formed something of a friendship.

“She bolted off that way,” said Sam, pointing. “I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Sondo waved his hand. “Okay, fine. Would you go after her? I’m trying to gather up the hobbits. There’s a stand of trees a little way from here, over that way-” he gestured, “Take Sassy and anyone else you see and go there. Rory and Marroc will be heading that way, too; you should be able to find them. And try to avoid the notice of the Big Folk and the wolves, okay? I don’t want them on our tail.”

“Sure, Sondo,” said Sam. The two parted, and Sondo headed off around the perimeter of the fight, not knowing where to look next. The landscape had looked quite barren before; now, however, he realized that hiding spots were actually quite abundant if looked for. It was by pure chance that he stumbled upon Reggie’s hiding spot. Their conversation was brief; Sondo directed him toward the trees and asked if he had seen Bingo or Falco.

“Not for a while,” Reggie answered. “Falco not since before the Big Folk came over here, and Bingo since the wolves came. Do you want help finding them?”

“Just check trees and other likely spots as you go. The sooner we’re all together the better,” answered Sondo.

“All right.”

Sondo continued his search. He was more concerned about Falco than Bingo; Reggie had at least seen Bingo lately, and he couldn’t have gone far. Sam and Sassy might have even seen him. But Falco; he hadn’t been seen for a while, and he hadn’t looked so good when he came back to the group: limping, and tired-looking.

Before looking for Falco, though, he turned an eye toward the battle. Another of the Big Folk was down, leaving only two of them against five wolves, some of them injured. Sondo had little doubt as to the victor of the battle, and he figured the end wouldn’t be long in coming. The Big Folk saw the same thing, apparently, and gave up the fight, running toward their camp. The wolves were in fast pursuit, and Sondo knew the Big Folk did not stand a chance now - the wolves would be a great deal faster, and more agile to boot.

Hastening on, he spotted a tall rock that looked to be a likely hiding spot. He looked around behind it, saw nothing, and was startled by a voice from above, “I’m up here, Sondo.” Sure enough, Falco had managed to make it to the top of the tall rock, or at least some kind of ledge since he couldn’t be seen from the other side.

“Can you get down?” Sondo asked. He remembered now his throbbing wrist, forgotten in the urgency of his mission, and knew that there would be no way he could climb up to help Falco.

“Yes,” answered Falco. He started down, and though he tried to hide it, Sondo saw the difficulty the other lad was having. Falco was in much worse shape than Sondo had realized before. When he was about two feet up from the ground he dropped the rest of the way, whether by design or accident Sondo wasn’t sure. Whichever it was, it seemed to pain Falco to land so heavily on his feet.

“Our meeting place is about a half mile from here,” Sondo explained, tactfully ignoring Falco’s weaknesses. You’re the last one I had to find.” He bit his tongue at the small lie and hoped Bingo had been found by one of the others. “Come on.” He didn’t want to offer help to Falco, knowing Falco was proud that way, but he would gladly give it. Even though he had asked Sassy to keep an eye on him, he had (mostly) forgiven Falco by now, and wouldn’t mind counting Falco among his friends again.

He took a step in the direction of the tree stand. “Coming?”

[Nurumaiel]

Falco bit his lip and hesitated for a brief moment. Of course he was coming. He wouldn't stay behind where wolves and Big Folk could find him. But did he want to go? That was the reason for his pause. It was humiliating to be found hiding on top of a rock, when the others had been running here and there, trying to help. He had had no choice; his sore and achings legs would not have been any help to the others. But it was humiliating, and doubly so because it had been Sondo who had found him. Sondo who still thought ill of him.

And then there were his legs. Whether he wanted to go or not, whether he had to go or not, could his legs support him? Half a mile... half an agonising mile. How could he manage it? How could he think of managing it? He was shaking, and not from the fear of the wolves. His whole frame was trembling, on the verge of collapse. How could he go half a mile to the meeting place? And when they reached the meeting place, what then? They would go on, of course. How could he go on?

"Coming?" said Sondo again, but his tone was not an annoyed, impatient tone. There was a faint smile on his face, which, in the days before their adventures when they had schemed about some prank, would have instantly been called encouraging, by Falco at least. But now he thought of it as nothing but mocking.

He's laughing at me! Falco thought, with a start of resentment. He thinks it is positively ridiculous that I was hiding when everyone else was in the thick of danger, and he's thinking of how he can tease me about it later. And he thinks I'm scared now. He thinks I'd rather stay safely up on my rock. He's laughing at me!

That was not to be borne. Falco threw back his head and began to totter forward weakly, struggling hard not to totter, or at the very least not to totter weakly.

"Yes," he said. "I'm coming."

[Firefoot]

Sondo nodded, inwardly skeptical. Did Falco really think he might make it all the way there without help? Too proud for his own good, he decided, rather hypocritically. In fact, as he led the way toward their arranged meeting place, Sondo became irked. Why wouldn’t Falco just admit that he was tired and his legs were in terrible condition? Sondo would have been more than willing to aid Falco, help support him; but no, Falco had to determinedly go on by himself. And go slowly. Sondo wondered how long it would be before Falco could keep up with a regular pace - if they had to go this rate all the time, they would never get home. Then again, this was Falco he was thinking about; of course Falco would have to be difficult. He always had been.

Guilt pricked at the back of Sondo’s mind. Maybe you haven’t forgiven Falco as much as you thought, his conscience nagged. You’re being more than a little unfair. Weren’t you just thinking that Falco was your friend, after all?

They’re valid concerns Sondo protested weakly. However, his conscience won out. They had walked perhaps a third of the distance when it became obvious to Sondo that Falco had absolutely no intention of asking for help, whether he needed it or not. He stopped and turned to face Falco.

“Look, Falco,” he said sighing. “No offense, but it’s pretty clear that you’re having a hard time. We were friends, once, and we could be still. Do you want some help? There’s still quite a way to the meeting place.”

[Firefoot]

Snarling, the pack tore after the two remaining tall two-leggeds. They gave a bit of a chase, not because it was necessary but more for a bit of sport before the kill. Finally, the lead male could stand it no longer, and growling to the others this one’s mine, he sprung upon the slower of the two, the one that had killed his mate. The two-legged stumbled as the wolf hit his back. Sharp teeth gleaming, his powerful jaws closed around the man’s neck, severing the spinal cord. The man fell limp, instantly dead. The rest of the pack had taken on the final two-legged, bringing it down without difficulty.

The kills were left lying; wolves did not eat two-leggeds. The alpha male now regretted having anything to do with the short ones; they were the ones who had brung this grief upon them. The wolves trotted silently behind him as he approached his fallen mate. He sniffed her hopefully, but there was no life in her. He let out a long, mournful howl. He was joined by the remaining four wolves in the pack, their voices mingling into a single harmonious song.

Finally, the howls drifted off. Come decided the wolf. These two-leggeds have caused us naught but grief, and they approach the Forest Where No One Dwells. We leave; we hunt the bearers of the two-leggeds. Four were freed. The other broke loose only recently. We hunt.

The song of the wolves changed; their mouths salivated, eager for the fresh meat of horse. The lead wolf set the pace, the loping, tireless gait of hunting wolves. Soon, the only sign that remained of them were five dead men and a fallen wolf.

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the sound of the wolves receded in the distance, Bingo climbed down from the tree and walked slowly over to the clearing in the woods where the dead bodies of the Men and the wolf still lay. Several of his companions were also coming out of their hiding places. Bingo's first thought had been to skin the carcass of the wolf and use the meat to feed them before starting on the trail again. But looking at the carnage strewn over the ground, he found it difficult to kneel down and use one of the Big Folk's knife on the animal carcass.

He had no great love for the ruffians, especially after what had happened to his own parents. Yet there was something immeasurably sad about the bloody and torn bodies that lay motionless on the forest floor. "What should we do?" he whispered, addressing anyone who stood nearby. "I think Sondo wants us to troop down to that thicket in the distance. But surely we just can't leave this." Something inside his head told Bingo that was wrong. "Can we burn the body or heap up some stones? If it's safe to do so, burning the bodies would be the fastest......"

[Encaitare]

The sounds of the fight had only continued to grow more severe as Reggie looked for the others -- then a dreadful silence fell. A chilling howl came from the clearing and raised the hair on the back of the lad's neck, and at last it seemed that it was over. He could not seem to find any of his companions despite his careful looking. He chanced calling their names, but still no response came, and so he decided to turn back.

As he entered the clearing, Bingo glanced up at him and the others who were straggling in. He was looking at the dead bodies with a startling sorrow. Reggie slowly approached, transfixed and oddly fascinated.

"Can we burn the body or heap up some stones?" Bingo said. "If it's safe to do so, burning the bodies would be the fastest."

Reggie kneeled by one of the fallen Big Folk and stared. "I guess maybe we could. We couldn't let the fire get out of control, though... 'cause I don't think we could carry enough stones."

Something winking on the ground next to the dead man caught his eye. Closer inspection revealed that it was a small coin, not worth much but not undesireable either. It appeared to have fallen out of the man's pocket. Figuring that the man wasn't going to miss anything of his, Reggie began rummaging through the other pockets. He found several more coins, a good length of string, and some trinkets: two blue beads, a little carven figure of a fox, and what seemed to be a spare buckle of some sort. All this he put into his own pocket, and moved on to the next one, feeling like some kind of scavenger, but hoping nonetheless to find something useful. After all, stealing from dead men was no worse than stealing from live ones.

All in all, what he obtained was mostly unremarkable. A key, a little metal file, a pair of gloves which were far too big for hobbits' hands -- just the simple sorts of things that people were likely to keep in their pockets for one reason or another. But he took all that he found anyway, showing his findings to the others.

"You never know what you might need," he said, shrugging. "They've got knives... d'you think we ought to take those too, instead of leaving them out where other ruffians can find them?"

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy rose groggily from the limb she clung to. The receding sounds of the wolves in pursuit of new prey had finally pierced her weariness. She squinted, looking toward where she’d run from. It looked clear now, she thought, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. Perhaps if she went back, the others would be there, too.

Scooting near the tree’s trunk, she hoisted her far leg over and, carefully as she could, made her way down to the ground. She missed a couple of footholds, scraping herself on the face and arms as she struggled for purchase on the rough tree bark.

Things look different now that she was down on the ground. She felt a little turned around now that she didn’t have the vantage point of being high up in the tree. Sassy rubbed her cheek where she’d bruised it and pushed back her straggle of dirty curls. Just a little ways away she could hear the sound of some little stream. It reminded her that she was thirsty . . . really thirsty from her long run. Her face brightened a bit at the thought of a drink. And besides, she thought, she could gather some of the little river stones she liked for her slingshot.

She set off, walking quietly as she could, toward the sound of the rushing water . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Falco averted his eyes from Sondo and considered. It would be practical to accept the offer. They were taking some time to reach the meeting place, and besides the general inconvenience, there was the personal inconvenience to Falco, having to hobble along on his pained feet. But how could he possibly consent to let Sondo, the one boy who had been mean to him at his return to the camp, help him?

He lifted up his shoulders and let them drop again in a gesture of indifference, and began to walk forward again. His gesture signified that Sondo could help if he wanted to, which, Falco thought, was another way of saying 'yes' without humbling yourself too much.

[Firefoot]

Oh, for goodness' sake, thought Sondo, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Falco might as well just say it: he needed help. Nevertheless, he offered Falco his shoulder and said, "Here; you can lean on me." Falco nodded as if indifferent, but Sondo could see the relief in the other lad.

With Sondo helping to support Falco, they were able to walk a bit quicker. Neither of them said a whole lot, concentrating more on the task at hand. Sondo did not mind helping Falco - he had offered, after all - but he was at least a little annoyed by Falco's pride. Never had he apologized since returning to their camp, and now he barely responded to the offer of help, much less friendship. And until he did any of those, Sondo could not fully trust him. He wasn't even fully convinced that Falco really wanted to join the group again.

When they finally reached the trees, Rory and Marroc were waiting, organizing the supplies taken from the Big Folk. Falco sunk down against a tree trunk. Sondo wondered why it was taking the others so long; he thought that Falco and himself had taken quite some time as it was. He let the others know what he was doing and wandered out to take a look, and saw that Sam and Sassy were approaching, while Reggie and Bingo were still back by the battleground, standing near one of the dead Big Folk. Sondo was too far away to tell much more than that. He wasn't in a hurry, since he figured they wouldn't be getting much farther that day, even if it was only mid-afternoon. Falco clearly needed to rest, and it had been an exciting day for all of them, to say the least. They could build a fire and have a real supper tonight, a celebration of sorts. So he headed back to the other three, figuring they'd get there when they got there.

"Let's get a fire going and cook up a meal," he suggested. "We're not going to go any farther today." Rory got up to help him gather wood while Marroc continued to go through their newly-acquired food. Soon a merry fire was crackling. They speared strips of meat on sharp sticks and began to roast them over the fire. Sondo's mouth began to water as the scent of cooking meat filled the air. They would be eating well from now on.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo had concurred with his brother's suggestion that the two of them gather up the knives and other weapons that the ruffians had been carrying. With the hobbits having lost much of the gear that they had originally brought from Buckland, they could use every replacement that they could find. The two of them had gone around together and systematically collected what was still left on the bodies: an assortment of knives of varying sizes, but also several long swords that were too long and bulky to do either of them or their companions any good.

Bingo had taken one of the smaller knives as his own. He was not thinking so much of using it in a fight, but it would come in handy for gutting fish or small animals, or performing other chores. His brother chose another for himself, and then the two of them walked back towards the grove where Sondo was gathering the rest of the group. A bright fire was lit and, even from this distance, Bingo caught a good whiff of food cooking. At least they would eat well for the first time in days!

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy makes her way back to the group

Her pockets were full of stones; they hung heavily against her legs, banging rhythmically against her thighs as she walked along. It was good that her pockets were full, but her tummy, on the other hand, was quite empty. Sassy dug deep into the pockets of her vest and searched through her tattered little pack . . . nothing . . .

‘I wonder if the others found any food,’ she sighed, stopping to try and get her bearings. Her little hands were on her hips as she turned in a circle trying to decide where she was and where the others were. She spied a fairly tall rocky outcropping a little ways away from her. Climbing up to the top of it she squinted into the distance until she saw the smoke rising from a campfire. It must be Sondo and the others, she thought, but even if it weren’t them she was going to go there. She would find some way to get some food, even if she had to beg or steal.

It was growing dark by the time Sassy reached the source of the fire. Sassy snuck up quietly and crouched down behind a clump of bushes a little ways away. She could hear hear the voices of people talking to each other . . . and she knew them! It was her companions. Sassy stood up, taking a close look at the group. There didn’t see to be any of the Big Folk about. With a quiet sigh of relief she made her way to the edge of the group as they sat about, eating.

Without a word or nod to anyone, Sassy took a chunk of bread from one of the dishes and a thick slice of smoked pork from another. She sat by herself, her eyes looking warily into the shadows. She was tired and on edge, not just from the events of the day, but of this whole ‘adventure’. She didn’t know if she could stand anymore surprises.

[Firefoot]

As each hobbit trickled into their camp, each helped himself (or herself) to the biscuits, dried fruit, and roasted meat. For the first time since the raft had crashed, they were able to eat until they were full, and everyone was finally able to sit back contentedly. It was at this point when Bingo voiced his opinion that something ought to be done with the Big Folk’s bodies.

Sondo nodded thoughtfully. Even if they were ruffians, it really wasn’t right to just leave their bodies to rot. “I think we should be able to burn them,” he agreed. The others nodded or voiced their agreement. “We better hurry, though,” he added, glancing toward the westering sun. “It will be dark soon.” So they set out to gather the bodies together so that they could be burned, bringing with them a burning branch from their campfire so they would not have to light another fire. Sondo realized that Falco would not be able to help. He stayed behind a moment and told Falco, “It’s all right if you stay here; I understand. You can watch the fire or something. If you want, you could get an inventory of what supplies we have.” They he hurried off after the others before Falco could respond.

The hobbits had already started to move the two Big Folk closest to their camp together. The men were quite large and heavy, and several hobbits were needed just to drag one.

“You know, those other three Big Folk are laying way over there,” observed Reggie. “It might be easier if we were to burn them in two piles, rather than drag those three all the way over here.”

“The fires would be smaller, too,” someone chipped in. The proposition made sense, and so it was decided that they would build two smaller fires. Soon they had piled the Big Folk accordingly, and it was time to light the fires. Certainly it was nothing fancy; Sondo figured they were doing enough in burning the bodies, and that they didn’t need to give them a real funeral. To make sure the fires did not get out of control, the hobbits kept their eyes on them, but from a distance as the smell of burning flesh and cloth was hardly pleasant.

The short trek back to camp was mostly quiet. The sun had set, leaving the world in a dim twilight. Once they returned, some stayed up and talked for a while, but slowly they all turned in for the night. It had been a long day for all of them.

~*~*~*~

Sondo awoke the next morning just as the sun’s first rays crested the horizon. He didn’t get up right away, but laid in place for a while listening to the birds sing and watching the sky slowly turning bluer. When he heard some of the others rustling around a bit, he rose and prodded at the fire with a stick. It hadn’t gone out, but only a few hot embers remained. He figured they could eat what meat they had left over from last night, so they wouldn’t need to use the fire again this morning. He did nothing to revive the fire and joined a few of the others who were digging some breakfast out of the packs. They ate a good meal, though they didn’t stuff themselves again as they had last night. The food still had to last until they got home, so it was back to travel rations.

Once everyone was up and had eaten, they had to figure out how they were going to carry their new supplies. There were very few packs among them, but those they stuffed and agreed to switch off carrying them. The rest of the supplies were folded up inside the blankets again and rigged up so that one person could carry each with reasonable ease. Then they were ready to set out.

Fortunately, Falco’s legs were feeling better this morning, as near as Sondo could tell. He had asked, and Falco had shrugged and made a noncommital sound. “Well, if you’re getting tired again, say something,” Sondo had replied and left it at that. Falco’s attitude was irking him again, and he paid little more attention to the other lad.

They had barely been walking for an hour when a dark line appeared across the horizon. As they drew closer, they realized that there could be no doubt: this was the Old Forest. This revelation was met with varying reactions. On one hand, it meant they were getting close to home. However... the Old Forest was a bad place. Sondo had heard stories, many of which he doubted were true, but the stories had to come from somewhere. Something was wrong with those trees, and nothing else lived there. Yes, the Old Forest was a dark place, and, stories being true or not, Sondo feared the place like he feared little else.

“Well, I guess we start heading more west, now,” mentioned Sondo during their lunch break. “Right now we’re just heading straight for the forest. Maybe we’ll even find the Brandywine again.” So after lunch they traded off packs and set off toward the northwest. Sondo intentionally set a slower pace than what they had been travelling in former days for Falco, who still had not complained but seemed to be getting more worn out again. Sondo soon forgot about Falco, however, as he noticed a slight change in the landscape. It was subtle, but the farther north they got the odder the shift seemed to him. It was almost as if the land was shaped so that it would be easier to go due north. Sondo tried to throw it off as the Forest playing tricks on his mind, but instead he became more and more convinced. For example, the slight rise and fall of the land was such that the land seemed almost furrowed, like a giant rake had been run over the earth. It was not enough to inhibit their travel, really, but confused him nonetheless.

He decided it was too much to ignore when they finally crossed what was tall enough to be considered a low hill. He glanced back at the hobbits, his gaze landing on Bingo. Bingo had always seemed fair knowledgeable about the land and such, and Sondo didn’t think he would call him crazy either. He dropped back and fell into step with Bingo.

He asked softly, “Bingo, does there seem to be anything... strange about the land around here to you?”

[Child of the 7th Age]

“Strange?” Bingo’s voice trailed off as he echoed the central query that Sondo had put to him. “ I’d say there are plenty of strange things about this place. I don’t know if it’s the trees or the land but something is pushing us northward. It’s almost as if we were a herd of sheep, with a herder that’s prodding and pulling us exactly where he wants to go. To be truthful, I don’t like this place. I’d rather veer west and walk down by the river, but there doesn’t seem to be a way of doing that.”

In the last few minutes of their trek, the trees bordering the path had gotten taller and more dense. Bingo wasn’t sure if they were actually in the Old Forest or still on the outskirts. The trunks of the trees looming over them were of varying sizes and shapes; some even had branches hanging low over the trail that seemed to thrust out a limb directly in the path of the unwary traveler. Bingo suddenly remembered stories he’d heard about the Old Forest and how it had goblins and trees that attacked the unsuspecting. He’d never believe any of those till now.

At the very moment when Bingo was thinking how much he disliked being in the forest, a large tree root jutted upward from nowhere and sent him sprawling on the ground, much to his embarrassment and discomfort. Sondo reached out a hand to help pull him up. Once he regained his footing, Bingo noted with a sigh, “Wherever and whatever this place is, I think we’d better hurry along and find a way out. I wouldn’t want to be here after nightfall.” Bingo glanced at his companions and wondered how they were feeling about all this. At least there hadn’t been too much grumbling so far. But he thought he saw shadows of unease mirrored on several of their faces, and Falco looked to be especially tired and wary.

[Primrose Bolger]

Walking along in the Old Forest . . .

‘Out of the frying pan, into the fire . . .’ Sassy could just hear her Gammer saying that old saw. And now Sassy understood it. The wolves and Big Folk had gone away, one way or the other. But these trees . . . they crowded in on her with their dark branches and shadowed trunks. The possibility of getting away from the thick closeness that closed in around them seemed to diminish with each step the group took on the mouldering dried leaves that covered the forest floor.

‘I am never going on another adventure again,’ she muttered. ‘I’m never even going to think about going on another one . . . ever!’

And what were these boys and her brother thinking? Seems they didn’t care a bit about the fact that they’d almost been killed by wolves and gosh knows what by the Big Folk ruffians. How could they shrug that off, she wondered.

Worse yet, she had seen some of them take things from the dead men. Stories from her Gammer about those dead men of old in their mossy green barrows on those Downs somewhere made her shiver. What if those Big Folk that just died came after their things . . . reached out for them in the night with the bony fingers of their fleshless hands? Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She wouldn’t throw up again. Probably just get a laugh from some of the boys and a disgusted look from her brother.

She looked round at the others in a sly manner as they tramped along; sliding her eyes from figure to figure. The light from above barely filtered through the thick branches of the trees. It cast a gloomy pall on the group, sliding in pale, murky bars over the moving Hobbits. Sometimes she could see one of the boys or another as the light heightened their features . . . but their eyes, if they turned her way, were always deep pools of shadow . . . and sometimes they seemed to slide into the shadows altogether where the light did not penetrate. Sometimes her imagination got the better of her and she wondered if she had fallen into one of the scary old stories her Gammer had told at night near the little fire in the kitchen.

And save for their footsteps, it was so very quiet. Oppressively so . . . Sassy was frightened to the bone.

‘Shhh!’ she told herself, clenching her jaw together to stop her teeth from chattering. ‘Just watch out for yourself, Sassafras,’ she thought firmly. ‘Keep your eyes on what’s about you and step along.’ If she didn’t feel brave, she could at least look it.

‘And watch out for the goblins,’ she murmured to herself, drawing her now raggedy cloak about her, her eyes darting round her as she tramped on.

And old piece of verse from one of Gammer’s tales rattled in her little head as her toes crunched through the dried leaves; a little story of a little girl who didn’t care what others thought and always did what she wanted . . . and then just when she wasn’t looking out . . .

They was two great Black Things
a-standin’ by her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’
‘fore she knowed what she’s about!

An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git YOU

Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!


---------

verse courtesy of James Whitcome Riley - "Little Orphan Annie"

[Boromir88]

Eventhough Sondo had addressed the question to Bingo, Rory felt he needed to chime in as well. "Strange!" exclaimed Rory, "why of course there's something strange about these parts. Can't you tell? I've heard talk that Master Merry, and them, met queer happenings in these woods. And what about Old Maggot? He's-"

Before Rory could finish someone interupted, "Oh stop it Rory. There is definately something queer about these woods, but Maggot is an old fool even queerer for living in near 'em."

"Enough squabbling you two," Sondo said sternly, but not angrily, "We must continue, atleast for a little longer."

Rory walked along near the front, a new strength was in him. He was usually the one lagging behind, but now with nice biscuits in his stomach, and a good sleep he felt invigorated.

Rory looked at Sondo who was leading the way. He didn't like how Sondo sent him and Marroc back to the supplies. He wanted to help Sondo and also get a taste of the action. He was forced to sit and pace, while the wolves were about, and everyone else was in danger. I suppose someone needed to stay back when the others returned, and there was no sense of running around alone with wolves about, but why couldn't I help? He might as well just told me what my pa used to say when he went out, "Who's goin' to look after your Ma if you come with me?" Ma could have looked out for herself, and Marroc could have too, so why couldn't I help? What Rory didn't understand was that Sondo was actually protecting him.

[Firefoot]

Sondo bit his lower lip. Bingo's (invited) and Rory's (uninvited) comments had confirmed his suspicions. There were more forces at work here than simply eight hobbits trying to return home. Something about the very nature of the landscape was against them, driving them on against their will deeper into the forest. The shallow dips they had encountered earlier were becoming ravines, and they were getting harder and harder to climb out of. The hobbits were getting edgy, too, as Rory's scuffle had proven. He glanced around and saw Rory looking at him queerly. Sondo flashed a grin, though it felt weak under the oppressive mood of the forest.

Presently another ravine appeared in front of them as if out of nowhere, the deepest and steepest one they had yet encountered. The opposite side appeared undercut, and Sondo doubted they would be able to climb out the other side.

"I don't think we should try to climb through this one just yet," he said. "Let's try following it south. Maybe it will get shallower." Sondo thought it was south, anyway. He was starting to get turned around. They had gone barely ten yards, however, when it was almost as if the dirt underneath their feet began to crumble away. Feeling himself falling, he scrambled to get his footing. Someone behind him tripped, though, and knocked Sondo over. The ground yawned open in front of him, and he felt himself falling head first as the bottom of the ravine rushed up to greet him. He found himself accompanied by about half their troupe. He could not see over the edge, but all seemed to have settled out.

"What happened?" someone asked behind him. No one had a clear answer, and everyone's tale differed slightly. The only consistency was ending up on the ground, whether in the crag or on top. Sondo looked up hopelessly. No way were they going to be able to climb back up; both sides were slick and undercut, and at least two feet over his head.

"I don't like this," he muttered. The sun was sinking low, and like Bingo he had no desire to be caught in this place at night. Already the Forest was growing more sinister.

"Didn't we have a rope left over from the raft?" he asked. Everyone dug into the supplies, and one skinny rope, perhaps ten feet long, was turned up. An end was let down, and Sondo grabbed ahold. "I'm the lightest," he said, "and I'm not sure this will support me. Try to pull me up, and I'll brace against the sides." He felt the slack go tight, and he was slowly pulled upward. He was about to grasp the edge of the ravine and hoist himself up when someone shouted and the rope slackened again. Sondo fell back to the bottom, and Rory came right behind. "That tree root tripped me!" he complained.

"There goes that plan," sighed Sondo. "The rest of you, stay away from the edge so you don't fall in, too. It looks like we're going to have to follow this ravine after all; the southward way looks impassable." He hesitated, noting the growing shadows. "And everyone? It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard. This place... I'd bet anything that it's far more dangerous to us than those Big Folk ever were."

[Primrose Bolger]

Had her throat not been so dry from lack of water and from hurrying along at breakneck speed on her short little legs, Sassy would have squeaked at what she was hearing. ‘It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard!’ she heard her brother say.’ The shadows of the trunks and limbs grew thicker and thicker. ‘This place... I'd bet anything that it's far more dangerous to us than those Big Folk ever were.’

Sassy made herself as small as she could, pulling her cloak tightly about her. She didn’t want to be touched by those shadows; she didn’t want to spend a dark night here beneath these bad, spiteful trees. With no wind to stir them, a scattering of dry leaves came pattering down on her head. She brushed them quickly from her, casting a mean look up toward the hovering branches. Again the branches moved a little, creaking against one another, laughing rudely at her discomfort as if they could sense her thoughts.

The boys were gathered close to the edgo of the ravine. Sassy eased herself in among them, letting their bodies shield her from the forest. She found herself standing near Falco. Curious at how he was taking the news of spending the night here, she glanced up at him. He didn’t look as brave as he had back at the river . . . but a small, shrewd look crossed his face once, and was as quickly smothered, as Sondo talked.

Perhaps she should keep an eye on him . . . bad enough having to contend with the trees without adding in any of Falco’s bad ideas. Or maybe she could just take care of the whole thing by pushing him over the side of the ravine . . .

She giggled quietly then stifled it as some turned to look at her. She squinted up at the nearby trees and pursed her lips. The forest, it seemed, was giving her some queer ideas. She looked slyly at Falco, wondering . . .

[Kitanna]

Marroc trudged along with the other hobbits, carrying some of the supplies in his bag. He did not like being in the Old Forest. His Gammer had told stories about this place. Stories that were frightening enough to scare the hair right off a hobbit's foot.

But his Gammer had also said if he ever found himself in questionable surroundings to whistle. She believed whistling chased away the bad and scary things. So, walking along with his friends Marroc whistled. Softly, mostly to himself. He wanted to tune out what Sondo and Bingo were saying about this place. Best not to know, he thought.

The hobbits moved along, encountering pit after pit. Slowly the pits were becoming ravines and sooner or later they were going to come across one they could not cross. Marroc just kept whistling.

~*~*~

"I don't think we should try to climb through this one just yet," Sondo remarked, looking over the edge of what looked like an impossible ravine. "Let's try following it south. Maybe it will get shallower."

There was simply no way the hobbits were going to get across. So the group followed Sondo, in what he believed was south.

They had not moved far when Sondo lost his footing and tumbled down the ravine. The ground moved beneath Marroc's feet and he, with most of the others, tumbled down into the ravine. He landed on top of Bingo. Rolling off, he apoligized. "So sorry Bingo. Hope you're not hurt."

"Didn't we have a rope left over from the raft?" Sondo asked.

A piece of thin rope was found and Sondo decided to try to climb up first. He was close to the top when the rope loosened and he went tumbling down again. Rory's head peered over the side. "The tree tripped me!"

Not good, Marroc thought. If trees were tripping people and edges of ravines were throwing people into their pits, who knew what would happened the farther they traveled.

"It looks like we're going to be spending the night here. Be on your guard." Sondo said.

The hobbits were divided now. Half in the ravine and half still above. What happened when they went farther and they discovered there was no way out. What would happen to their group then?

[Firefoot]

As the hobbits moved on, they had no choice but to go as two separate groups, one group travelling on the edge of the ravine and the other forced to make their trek at the bottom, though they kept each other in sight as much as possible. They had not gone far when night began to fall. The dark, shadowy wood became darker and and more menacing. Sondo would have sworn that the trees were talking to each other. The branches seemed to be moving, but not so that one could see them move. It felt like they were reaching out, preparing to snatch any or all of them up at any given moment. There was a sound like wind in the branches, except the air felt dead to Sondo. He found himself glancing over his shoulder numerous times, looking for an invisible menace. Though the evening air was warm, he wished he might have a cloak to draw about himself. All he wanted was to be out of this horrible place. As the deep ravine drove them further and further in, however, he became increasingly fearful that they never would. He was now a firm believer of every single one of those stories about the Old Forest. But, wait! The stories had to come from someplace - that meant hobbits did get out alive. There was hope. Sondo would like to know how they had managed.

As the twilight faded, Sondo called a stop. He refused to go blundering about in this place in the dark. He did not know where this ravine led, and who knew what the trees might do to those up top? "What do you think? Should we build a fire?" he asked. He wondered if a fire would make the trees angry at them. Of course not - trees couldn't be angry. He tried to laugh at himself for the silly notion, and found that he could not do it. There was some uneasy murmuring, but no decisive answer.

"Maybe with already dead wood?" someone up top suggested. Sondo could not tell who in the fading light.

"Yes; let's do that," said Sondo, trying to sound sure. Some wood was gathered by those not trapped in the ravine. Part was let down, and tinder was brought out. Soon there were two small fires going, one on top and one on bottom.

"Sleep if you can, I guess," said Sondo. "No need to set watch. I doubt many of us will sleep anyway." He reclined against the edge of the ravine. He could not even bring himself to close his eyes. Fine - I admit it! I'm terrified of this place. I'd let Sassy call me Bunnymuggins every day for the rest of my life if it meant we could get out of this place in one piece. Admission did not help, though. He still could not sleep, and he doubted he would at all this night.

[Encaitare]

Reggie was glad he had not taken a tumble into the ravine like some of the others, but he slightly envied them the protection that it provided. Even if they were stuck, the trees couldn't reach them down there. While in previous situations he had felt safest sleeping with his back to a tree, he did not dare go too close to any of them. They seemed unfriendly, if that was possible. The fire seemed to keep them at bay, though, and so he lay as near to it as he could, flat on his back so nothing could sneak up on him, and tried to go to sleep.

Lulled by the crackling of the fire and its warmth, Reggie did manage to doze for a while, and he dreamed...

He is home, playing games outdoors with his cousins under a bright, friendly sun. A good-natured game of tag is well under way; they are running from each other and shouting in mock fright. But then the sun seems to fade, and one of the players grows until he is the size as one of the Big Folk, but with sharp, wolfish teeth. He starts to chase Reggie, who runs as fast as he can. The monster is much stronger and faster, though, and Reggie looks over his shoulder to see the thing gaining on him. Suddenly a rough hand grabs his shoulder--

The young hobbit woke with a shout, grabbing his left shoulder, the one furthest from the fire. Something had just touched him there, he knew it -- and was he crazy, or did he just see a bough of the tree nearest him go snapping upwards, as if it had just been caught doing something a tree oughtn't to do?

He knew he would not be able to fall asleep again.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo lay miserably still inside his tattered bedroll, unable to settle down and fall asleep. The eerie sounds of the forest and the impending presence of the trees hovering menacingly over them were bad enough. Even worse was the fact that, for the second time on the journey, he had managed to get separated from his brother. Reggie was on top of the ravine, while he was stuck here below. He cursed the ill luck that had sent him tumbling downward.

But there was something else very wrong. Bingo hadn't said anything to the others but he was in considerable pain. In his downward fall, he had glanced off the side of a jagged rock. Ever since then, he'd had a hard time even breathing. Every mouthful of air and compression of his chest brought an agonizing sensation of tightness, almost like someone repeatedly jabbing him in the side with a dagger; he could only guess that one of his ribs must have been cracked in the fall. He knew there were herbal remedies that could help stave off the pain, but he didn't know how to find the herbs or concoct a suitable potion. Maybe he could take his one spare shirt and wrap it tightly round his chest to help support the broken rib. Yet every time he tried to manoeuver his body to do that, the pain in his side worsened to the point that he had to stop.

Finally, he could take no more. Speaking loud enough so anyone who was awake could hear, whether in the ravine or on the hillside above, he spluttered out a plea for help, "Anybody awake? I think I've broken my rib. Can anyone help me.....?"

[Firefoot]

Sondo was startled out of a deep reverie by the voice in the darkness. He had not been able to fall asleep, and so had been contemplating their situation. Every time he ran through possible scenarios the forest seemed blacker and their position more hopeless. He was the leader; he had to get them out of this. Somehow. He was not accustomed to such real fear and did not know how to cope with it, though he knew he couldn’t let it show through to the group. So he was grateful for the interruption.

“Bingo? Is that you?” Sondo asked quietly.

“Yes.” Sondo could almost hear the pain in Bingo’s voice. Sondo got up and walked over to the other side of their small fire where Bingo had set up his bedroll.

“What happened?” he asked.

“When we fell down here, I think I must have broken my rib. Hurts to move, and to breathe.” Bingo’s breathing was shallow and his sentences disconnected. Sondo tried to keep the wince off his face. Sure sounds like a broken rib. He should’ve said something about it earlier - he probably made it worse by walking on it so far. Of all the injuries one of the hobbits could have gotten, this had to be one of the worst. A broken arm or leg could be splinted, a sprain could be wrapped (the pain and swelling in his own wrist had quickly gone down), cuts and such could be wrapped. But a broken rib? His oldest brother Longo had broken a rib some years back by falling out of a tree. His Ma had prescribed bed rest for quite a while. All you could do for a broken rib was hope it fixed itself pretty quick.

“You’ve been trying to wrap it?” asked Marroc. Rory was there, too. They probably couldn’t sleep either, so of course they would have heard us, he reasoned. Sondo caught sight of the shirt lying nearby that had caused the comment.

Bingo nodded. “I couldn’t - hurt too much.”

“Well, I suppose we could help with that,” offered Sondo. He was glad he wasn’t the only other one awake down here - he hoped that one of the others knew more about medicines and such than he did.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam woke from his sleep and walked over to where the small commotion of noise was coming from. He found the rest of them huddled around Bingo. The shallowed breathing caused Sam to tense.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked immediately as he joined the group. He watched Bingo's face, a wave of concern tingled through his body. He could see in the light that Bingo had been trying to wrap himself up. Realizations hit him before anyone said anything.

Thoughts flew through his head. How where they to treat it? Would he die? He had heard of hobbits breaking their ribs, it punctured the lung and they died in their own blood.

"Do you taste blood, Bingo. It's very important that we know that," Sam interjected, silently praying that the young hobbit didn't. If he did then Sam knew that Bingo would be as likely to survive as a rabbit did in the mouth of a fox. Worse yet was the thought that they would have to be the ones to carry his corpse all the way back to the Shire and tell his parents that they were to blame for the early demise of their son. No, Sam thought to himself, there will be no corpses.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo glanced over at Sam and ruefully shook his head, "Nope. There's no blood. Just a bruise on the outside, and my insides hurt. But Sondo putting on the band has helped a little. I'm tough. If I have to go on like this, I will."

Clearly, none of the lads knew much about herbs or where to find them in the forest. A real potion would not be forthcoming that night. He would just have to do the best he could without it.

Bingo settled uneasily into a pile of leaves, being careful to lie on his good left side. He slept a little but only fitfully, waking up at the slightest noise or when he managed to twist the wrong way and the pain came surging up. The night seemed to drag on endlessly. Once or twice, he awkwardly sat up in bed and gazed around at the clearing. He thought he say two feral eyes in the bushes, golden and unblinking as they stared back at him. Another time, he swore he heard the distant patter of footsteps, not down in the ravine but up above. Craning his neck upward, he saw what appeared to be a shapeless grey shadow gliding forward. Bingo could not exactly make out the form of the thing, but it looked like a gigantic bearded ghost in voluminous robes gliding through the thicket of trees. His eyes grew round in trepidation, and, despite his resolve to be brave, he found himself shuddering. What if this restless spirit of the dead wandering the forest in the dead of night decided to attack them? He wondered if ghosts ate hobbits.

For the rest of the night, Bingo could not sleep. Visions of the floating ghost continued to occupy his mind. As the first strains of daylight filtered into the ravine and his companions awakened from their sleep, Bingo spoke in halting terms, first describing how he had broken his rib and then what he had seen late last night. "There's a ghost out there. I swear. I glimpsed it on the ridge. It's gigantic. Maybe twelve feet tall. And truly horrible. Looked as if it would like to swallow us all."

One of his companions burst out chuckling. "Bingo, I think you broke more than your rib. Your brain must be a little cracked!"

"Laugh if you want....but I swear I saw a ghost. And for all I know, that thing may be waching us now." He glanced up uneasily hoping his brother Reggie and Sassie and all the others were alright.

[Firefoot]

Sondo frowned uneasily. He didn’t exactly doubt Bingo, but really, a ghost? And so large - what could it be a ghost of? Bingo probably had seen something, like an illusion in the trees or the like. The truly concerning thing was that Bingo truly believed it was a ghost. If they were ever to escape this horrid place, they needed their wits about them. If they all started going mad, well, he simply refused to let himself go down that path.

Well, he had more important things to worry about right now than ghosts (he would worry more later, if Bingo’s mental health really did seem to be suffering). He called up to those on top of the ravine. “Hey, everyone awake up there? Did you make it through the night all right?”

“We’re in one piece,” answered Reggie, coming as close to the edge as he dared. “The fire seemed to have helped. You’re all okay down there?”

“I think so. Bingo seems to have broken a rip when he fell down here yesterday... but he seems to be doing all right.” Sondo didn’t mention the ghost.

“If you’re sure,” said Reggie, concern evident in his voice.

“It hurts, but I should be fine,” said Bingo.

Reggie nodded, apparently satisfied. “We were just getting breakfast - you have food down there, right?”

“Yes. Once we eat, we can get going,” said Sondo. He went over to their packs, ready to dig out some food for all of them. He flipped open the top pack and frowned. On top was a small bottle that he knew had not been there last night. What’s this? He took off the top and took a tentative sniff. It smelled herbish - but that didn't tell him much. It could be made out of good plants or poison plants. And where did it come from? He scowled up at the queer trees. This place got stranger and stranger all the time, and he didn't like it at all. There seemed to be no reason to any of it. First roots that moved to trip them, then trenches and ravines, then ghosts, now a suspicious bottle. In light of the other events, Sondo figured the bottle was probably poison. It had to come from somewhere, surely.

“Hey, do any of you know what this is?” asked Sondo, holding up the bottle. “It was in the packs.”

[Primrose Bolger]

Bingo is not the only one to see ghosties in the night . . .

Night in the forest was of course worse than day if that were possible. Gloom oozed from beneath the thick tangle of branches and covered the ground beneath the trees in a creeping blanket of unease. Sassy did not stray too far from the little fire those above the ravine had made for themselves. She had scrunched herself up, back against a rock, knees drawn up to her chin beneath her ragged cloak. The thought of sleep gave her the willies; she was sure that if she closed her eyes the trees would creep closer and do her in. As it was, she catnapped, her lids falling wearily at intervals and just as quickly she would rub at them with her grimy fists to grind the sleepiness away.

It was during one of these bouts where she fought hard against her tiredness that she thought she saw something drifting from one tree to another. She was rubbing her eyes hard, and there in what pale moonlight could pierce the leaves, she was sure she saw a sort of shadow flit from behind one tree to another. Not just a shadow, though it was dark about its outline . . . it was sort of lighter colored . . . dull light.

‘Like a dirty, drab ghost,’ she thought to herself. Tall and moving with some purpose toward the ravine wasn’t it? She inched forward just a bit to get a better view. Her leg scraping against some loose pebbles made a small noise in the night . . . the figure disappeared. ‘Sassy, you’re just imagining it,’ she told herself, her eyes straining to catch some movement again. ‘Or maybe you weren’t,’ she argued with herself. ‘Maybe some old evil tree spirit is just looking for some fat little Hobbit to fill his woody belly . . .’ She drew back and bunched herself against the rock again. ‘If I just keep still and quiet and shut my eyes maybe it won’t see me.’

~*~

What passed for morning came too suddenly. Sassy had fallen into some semblance of exhausted sleep and it was the sound of the boys talking in the ravine and Sondo’s loud question that snapped her head up and forced her bleary eyes open. He’d found a jar, it seemed. One he’d not seen before in their packs. And just a few moments earlier, she could swear she’d heard Bingo’s voice saying something about a ghost.

Sassy shivered and stood up. She walked toward the treeline where she had seen her own phantom making for the edge of the ravine. There were no tracks she could see as she studied the ground nor was there any sign of a misty stranger lurking at the back of the trees or in the low underbrush. She shivered again imagining a pair of unseen eyes somewhere watching her. She turned back to make her way to where Reggie and Falco were, when something stirring in the breeze caught her eye.

It wasn’t a leaf, she thought, not even a weird leaf from this most odd forest. Its was a thin strip, dirty grey, uneven at its edges as if the branch it was on had reached out and torn it from something . . . something made of rough cloth, she murmured to herself, taking the scrap between her fingers and pulling it from the branch’s grip. Neither of the boys up here with her were wearing something that matched it . . . so it hadn’t been either of them.

Sassy ran back to the part of the ravine where Sondo was and crept near the edge, laying finally on her belly to call down to him and to Bingo, whom she could see still clutching his ribs where they hurt. She waved the scrap in her hand at her brother, saying Bingo hadn’t been wrong. There was something that had crept about last night; she’d seen it last night herself making for the ravine . . . but it wasn’t a ghost . . . not unless ghosts had taken to wearing clothes of some sort. Nonetheless she thought whatever it was it was bad and out to hurt them just like the trees were.

She let the little piece of material float down to where Sondo stood. ‘Don’t open that bottle,’ she cried down to him. ‘Whoever left it means us no good!’ As if to punctuate her statement, one of the trees above the ravine let fall a dead and twisted limb. It went skittering down the incline sending a shower of pebbles and dirt flying out towards those below.

[Child of the 7th Age]

"See! I wasn't mad," snapped Bingo. "I told you I saw something, and Sassy saw it too." To emphasize his point, Bingo hastily stood up from where he'd been sitting but then let out a miserable howl. A grimace of pain splashed over his face. It was all he could do to keep standing upright and hope that the moment would quickly pass.

His face wan and ashen, Bingo stumbled over to where the bottle had been set down on top of Sondo's open pack. Eagerly, he snatched it in his hand, "Give me that. I want to have a look."

First inspecting the outside of the vial, Bingo gingerly unscrewed the top and then bent his head for a closer look. The stuff was brown and icky, and smelled a bit like rotting turnips. All of the hobbits standing near Bingo wrinkled their noses in utter distaste as they caught a whiff of what was inside. "This isn't poison," Bingo reasoned "It's got to be medicine, maybe a potion to help me. Only medicine can look and smell this bad. Who would be foolish enough to try and tempt anyone to their doom with such horrible nasty bait?"

Bingo gingerly reached forward and stuck his pinky inside the bottle, emerging with a single drop of the precious stuff. Impulsively, he stuffed his finger into his mouth. Everyone around him held their breath, thinking that he might keel over in agony, but Bingo only made a wry face, "Just as I suspected. This tastes even worse than it smells. When Aunt Hilde broke her leg, the clan brought in a healer from Bree, and he gave her a bad-tasting remedy like this. The pain went away almost at once. In no time, she was up and about practically dancing in the market. Anything has to be better than this. My side hurts so badly I can't go on. You'd just have to leave me here, and I'd die anyway." With that final verdict, Bingo raised the bottle to his mouth and impulsively gulped down its entire contents.

[Firefoot]

"...My side hurts so badly I can't go on. You'd just have to leave me here, and I'd die anyway."

"Now that's-" nonsense, Sondo started to say, but he was cut short as Bingo downed the entire contents of the bottle. Idiot!

"Bingo!" he cried. "Even if it was medicine, you ought not to have taken the whole thing! Even medicines can become poisonous if you take too much, and if it wasn't medicine...!"

Bingo shrugged. "It's done now." Sondo could think of nothing to say to that, and, at any rate, Bingo seemed to be suffering no ill effects as yet. As much as anything he was annoyed that he had had no true say in the verdict, but of course he could not say this out loud. He was concerned as well for his friend, and Bingo’s actions seemed extremely foolhardy. He figured Bingo was much more likely to die as a result of drinking so much of that.. stuff as he was because they left him behind. Why ever would they do that?

He turned to face Sassy, who was still laying atop the ridge, watching the whole affair. He glared at her for a moment, for it had been she that had been the final push for Bingo to open the bottle, because she had seen whatever Bingo had seen. However, he gave no word of the reason for the glare and left her to puzzle it out for herself.

He knelt and picked up the scrap of cloth that Sassy had let fall. "It wasn't a ghost, at any rate," he grumbled. "Ghosts don't wear clothes." The fact that it was actually a living being was more disconcerting than the illusion of ghost, though - what were they doing here? He scowled at the cloth and stuck it in his pocket.

"Let's eat breakfast and get out of here," he said, his snappish mood evident in his voice. "I don't want to spend another night in the forest." He dug out some food from a pack, leaving the others to get their own. He ate his own meal in silence, and the others let him, sensing his dark mood.

Some foul adventure this was! Shipwreck, mutiny, attacks, injuries, evil trees, ghosts... It wasn’t fair. Didn’t he ever have any good luck? All he had wanted was an adventure, like in tales. Was that so much to ask?

He stood up abruptly. The rest of them seemed about finished eating. “Come on,” he said resignedly. “Maybe if we go on enough we’ll find someway out of this curséd ravine.” He didn’t like this option one bit, but it seemed the only one they had. Suddenly, he heard some noise behind him and spun about.

“Are you sure that is such a wise way to go? The deeper you go into the forest, the more your peril grows,” said a kindly voice. The man that stepped out from among the trees was fairly tall (to Sondo’s eyes, anyway; it might not seem so amongst the Big Folk) and glad in a grey cloak and blue hat. He looked quite old, with a long grey beard and a staff. There was something about him Sondo thought he should recognize, though he knew he had never seen him before. And though he seemed friendly, Sondo was instantly suspicious for several reasons: clearly, this was Bingo’s “ghost,” and why had he been lurking around them? Closer to Sondo’s heart, however, was the sharp memory it brought up: Hey, Sondo? Are you sure you’ve covered all your options? This recollection brought Sondo’s hand to the hilt of his knife. “Who are you?” Sondo demanded. “And what do you want with us?”

“I have come to help you,” the man said. “And I should think that such an adventurous lad such as yourself would know my name.”

Sondo scowled, refusing to play along with this man’s games. “And how do we know this isn’t a trick?”

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy was still lying on her belly, her head hung over the edge of the ravine, when the old man in grey made his appearance. ‘I have come to help you,’ he said. He was sort of raggedy looking, his long hair and beard a bit tangled; his grey robes perhaps made greyer by the fact that they were travel-worn and stained. Part of her was thinking he was just some other sort of ruffian who would take advantage of them and part of her was wanting to trust him even though he was a Big Folk. His eyes were bright and sparkly and there was the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. And his voice, well it seemed very kind.

Now Sassy, she could hear her Gammer saying. Never judge a person by his clothes. The kindest heart might have been through some rough patches and their clothes be a little tattered. But underneath they’re the same good person as afore.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thinking. ‘Well, maybe I’ll give him a chance. Maybe we can trust him.’ She narrowed her eyes and took a long look at Sondo. More than I feel about you right now. she thought to herself with a tinge of regret.

‘I think we should listen to him,’ she yelled down to her brother. ‘Maybe he can show us the way out of the forest. And maybe he should take a look at Bingo and his ribs.’ She looked toward the old fellow thinking that if the others weren’t going to let him help them out, then maybe she could get him to help her get home . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo inched forward hesitently to have a closer look. He instinctively liked the old man with the grey beard and couldn't understand why Sondo was being so pig headed. There was something about the man's face and eyes that made Bingo want to trust him. He didn't look or sound anything like any of the ruffians he'd met before. He could not imagine this man killing his parents, even though he was undoubtedly the tallest person that Bingo had ever seen.

Bingo came a step closer and then piped up, "You were the one who left the medicine, weren't you. I drank it all. Every drop, and my side is starting to feel better already. I think maybe I won't lay down and die. I am going to be alright, aren't I? Maybe you could just have a look at it?"

The man chuckled, sat down on a log, and took a pipe out of the folds of his robe and began to smoke. The stranger deftly blew a smoke ring in the air that was shaped like an elaborate sailing ship on the ocean, the kind that Bingo had never seen in real life but which had always fascinated him in books. Bingo's eyes grew wide with admiration, and his jar dropped open in surprise. In utter excitement, he burst out, "I've never seen anyone blow a smokering like that, not the best smokers in the Shire and Buckland. I know who you are, or at least I know somebody who used to tell stories about you. Old Bilbo, Frodo's kin, the daft hobbit who disappeared from the Shire years ago, used to talk about a strange tall fellow who could blow smokerings like you wouldn't believe.....even better than the rings a dragon can blow. Cousin Merry told me about Bilbo's stories. That's got to be you!" He looked quizzically over at the stranger.

[Kitanna]

Marroc was relieved when the old man came out of the woods. Sondo seemed suspicious, a few of the other hobbits seemed ready to accept the man's help. He had a kind face and Marroc was completely prepared to accept his help on getting out of the forest.

He was the one who left the medicine for Bingo. He had to be. Marroc couldn't believe this old man meant them any harm. He watched the old man's movements carefully. He was trying to think what his father would do.

Mongo Brandybuck was always willing to help and accept help if he needed it. He was never too proud to turn someone away. Marroc felt the same way. They needed help and this old man could help.

And there was something about him. Something Marroc couldn't place. He had heard tales from older hobbits about this kind of man coming through the Shire from time to time. A wizard. But this man couldn't be Gandalf, could he?

[Nurumaiel]

Falco carefully climbed to the bottom of the ravine (and without too much difficulty, considering his every day adventures that involved similar feats) to join the others and observe the newcomer. He saw the kindly glint in the old man's eyes, and he felt a warm confidence go through him. Of course they could trust this man. He had the atmosphere of a father or a grandfather or an uncle or something. Someone who would take care of them. And he wanted to say so, but... of course Sondo was still angry with him. If he said anything in favour of the old man, it would probably make Sondo be against him.

Timidly he approached the old man, and, with Bingo, gazed up at the smoke rings. But slowly he drew his eyes away from the pipe and looked into the old man's face. And then, he put a shy hand on the old man's knee, and looked up at him with and earnestly trusting smile.

"Sir, would you really help us?" he breathed. "I... I would like your help so much. We've been running into trouble ever since we set out. If you would help us, it would be just like a real adventure. Real adventurers always have guides!"

[Firefoot]

Bingo's words fell into place in Sondo's mind as Falco drew closer to the man. He was right, of course; this had to be the one who had taken Old Mad Baggins off on an adventure. Some luck at last!

"...Real adventurers always have guides!" Falco was saying. Sondo shot a withering look at Falco's back. Falco couldn't be the leader, but he would try to put someone else in that spot. Sondo was too excited now to pay much attention to Falco, though. Maybe later. And just because there was a guide didn't mean he wouldn't be leader - the two were different.

"That means that you're - you're Gandalf, right?" asked Sondo, stepping a little closer.

"Ah, so you do know who I am," Gandalf answered, mostly to Sondo but with an affirming nod towards Bingo's query. To the others, he said, "And, yes, I can guide you out of the forest, by this afternoon, even. Unless, of course, you still think this is a trick?" He raised a bushy eyebrow at Sondo, who colored slightly. "No, I believe you." Sondo knew he had just made a complete idiot out of himself, and he hoped the others did not think so as well. Hopefully they were more concerned about leaving this horrid place.

"Very good," said Gandalf. He looked up at those not trapped in the ravine. "We'll be heading west, out of this ravine, so first you need to come down here. And as to your side, I can take a look at it, though you should be all right, now..." Sondo tuned the rest of it out. He walked over to the edge of the ravine.

"Here, you can toss the supplies down. I'll catch," offered Sondo. His mood had switched around completely, now; as he helped out he made up an improptu song and hummed along softly, improvising as he went.

We'll have a real adventure,
'Cause with a bit of luck,
We'll have a real adventure now,
No longer we'll be stuck,
We'll have a real adventure now,
'Cause Gandalf'll get us out of the muck,
And we'll have a real adventure,
A real adventure now!

[Boromir88]

Could it really be Gandalf himself? Oh, Rory remembered so many stories about the Grey Rider. However, Rory wasn't so easily convinced (as much as the others) that he was who he says he is. He could have sworn hearing stories about Frodo going away, with a Gandalf. His suspicions of the man disappeared as he started remembering stories about what the real Gandalf did. The best part was fireworks. He had heard wonderous stories about Gandalf's fireworks. Though he had never seen them, or atleast he didn't remember them, he was was still very young when Gandalf last shot off fireworks at Bilbo's party. Rory got caught up so much about fireworks, he forgot all his suspicions about the old man.

"So, Mr. Gandalf sir, this place is perilous then?" Rory asked.

"Any place is perilous, young Rory, even the Shire. That you will find out in time." Gandalf replied, Rory looked confused.

"I've heard some wonderful things about your fireworks, Mr. Gandalf. Do you suppose if we ever get back home you could show us some?"

"I must say, I have not come prepared for a show, and they are only for special occasions Mr. Brandybuck. It's a pity since you would all be too young, or not even born, when I shot them off at Bilbo's party, I presume?"

All the hobbits nodded enthusiastically. Hearing about fireworks excited them all. However, Rory couldn't explain it, he just got a funny feeling about the old man.

He whispered trying to make sure Gandalf didn't hear him, "I think we should be cautious, atleast have someone stay up and watch him. I could have sworn I heard about Gandalf disappearing with Frodo, and...and Sam Gamgee."

"Don't be silly Rory, of course he is Gandalf. What would be his reason to lie?" one of the hobbits said, not understanding Rory's reasons for concern.

"Still, it wouldn't hurt to watch him, atleast until we are sure."

Somehow the man overheard the conversation, "Well Rory, I tell you I am Gandalf, and if my word is not good enough for you, that is your own problem." Most of the hobbits seemed to agree with him.

Rory didn't understand. When had he ever been wrong, yet? Sure he makes jokes during inappropriate times, but he can't remember a time on this adventure when he said something, and he hadn't been right. Maybe, I need to get more serious, then people would start listening to me, Rory grumbled.

[Encaitare]

Reggie didn't know why Rory was being so distrustful. He knew that there were people in the world who were more subtle than the Big Folk they had encountered, people who would get you to trust them before tricking you. The worst experience he'd had with this, though, was just when some of his cousins, very mischievous people, had told him that the strangest fish they'd ever seen was swimming lazily in the Brandywine, and if he leaned over the water just a little further then he'd be able to see it. Of course, they'd pushed him in, and though it was all in good fun he'd learned to be a little more wary. Yet there was a benevolent look in Gandalf's eyes which made Reggie trust him immediately, almost as if it seemed to him that the old man was incapable of actually telling a lie.

"Of course he's who he says he is!" Reggie insisted, eagerly climbing down into the ravine. "Who else would be able to blow smoke rings like that? And who else would leave medicine for Bingo?"

"He's no ruffian, that's for sure," said Marroc.

"Indeed I am not!" said Gandalf. "Now, young Master Brandybuck--" here, all the hobbits (except Sassy) wondered if he was addressing them until he continued, "--let's have a look at your side."

Bingo obligingly lifted up the side of his shirt. A mottled bruise marked the flesh over his ribs, but when Gandalf kneeled and gently prodded the area Bingo did not wince. "It is, as I thought, broken," Gandalf announced, rising. "You seem to be mending nicely, though. There is certainly no need to lie down and die!" At this he chuckled, making Reggie feel lighter at heart.

"Thank you for helping us, sir," he said earnestly. His brother was going to be alright, and they were all going to get out of this awful forest in one piece -- hopefully rib included.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam couldn't believe his eyes. Gandalf the Grey! And he was going to help them in their adventure! It was far more then Sam had ever believed would happen. He was stunned into silence, unable to think of anything remotely intelligent to say to the man that had seen almost all of Middle Earth. He was friends with the most amazing people and yet here he was, helping them on their adventure. The thought it self was mind boggingly.

"Sondo, what can I do to help?" Sam asked his quietly, not wanting Gandalf to hear him asking. Sam didn't want Gandalf to think that he was not bright enough to figure out what needed to be done. Sam wrung his hands slightly as his eyes watched Gandalf. He blinked a couple of times. Truly this had to be just a dream. Or a mistake of some sort. After he blinked he saw that indeed Gandalf was still here.

He snapped out of his short ravine of thought to hear what Sondo would tell him. He wanted to be helpful. To show that he was a brave and noble hobbit. He wanted to show that he was much more then what many hobbits in the Shire thought he was. He was determined to show Gandalf the Grey that he was worthy of great things too.

[Firefoot]

Annoyance flashed in Sondo's eyes at Sam's innocent question. Just do whatever you see needs to be done! But Sondo could not say this, of course; or rather, he could, but he wouldn't. Sam wasn't trying to be so dependent, after all.

"Ah, I don't think there's a whole lot to do. Just hang tight for a moment; I think we're getting ready to move on." Sam seemed a little disappointed, but there wasn't a lot Sondo could do about it. He gave Sam an encouraging grin and looked around, trying to remember what he was about to do. Oh, yes, Rory. He approached Rory, who was still watching Gandalf skeptically at the back of ring of hobbits. He leaned over toward Rory and whispered so that not even Gandalf would hear: "Hey, I understand where you're coming from... but even if it's not Gandalf, it's basically our only hope, right? I have no idea how we would ever get out of here on our own. As long as we get out of this horrible place, I don't suppose it really matters whether it's Gandalf or some ruffian that leads us out. Right?"

He didn't get a chance to hear Rory's reply, though, for right at that point Gandalf spoke up. "Now, if you are ready, we can go. I believe there is no more to be done here."

Sondo nodded. "We're all packed up and ready. So how are we getting out of this ravine?"

Gandalf stood. "Come, and I will show you." The hobbits shouldered their packs and followed Gandalf a short way down the ravine, back the way they had come. Very soon, they came upon a spot where Gandalf had tied a rope to something up above the ravine.

"Um, we've already tried this," someone said apologetically. "It didn't work."

"But you did not have me with you then," answered Gandalf. "You must trust me." Then, he murmured a few words under his breath, and Sondo understood them not. He was fair confident that they were not in the Common Tongue at all, and a sense of wonder filled him. Was this some kind of magic?

"I will help you up the rope one by one," explained Gandalf, "and do not fear, for the rope will hold." And miraculously, the rope did hold and each hobbit made his (or her) way to the top of the ravine, partly climbing the rope and partly lifted by Gandalf. Last of all, Gandalf came up with them, much easier since he was so much taller than any of the lads. Sondo hoped that Rory's doubts were now allayed; who else but Gandalf could make such a feat work?

"We should have just enough time to make it out before night falls," said Gandalf, taking up his staff and leading the way. Sondo was shocked to find that with Gandalf leading the way, the forest behaved. There were no roots that tripped or branches that hung low or ravines which opened before them. They did still feel menacing though, and the air still felt stuffy, or else it might have been counted a pleasant trek. Gandalf said very little, save to answer a few of their questions, and not always satisfactorily. For example, they had not yet figured out just what Gandalf was doing here in the first place, nor would he give them any more of an answer than that he was helping them. After a long spell of silence, Sondo finally got up his nerve and stepped up alongside Gandalf. "Master Gandalf? Would you tell us about Ol- I mean, Mister Bilbo?" He already knew the tale by heart; at least, the tale as the hobbits told it (and those accounts tended to differ on more points than one), but Gandalf would know how it really went, after all.

Gandalf paused for a moment before thinking. "Very well. I will tell you a part, for it is a long tale indeed and some of it would be best not told under cover of this forest. But I will tell you about the trolls." Sondo quickly agreed, though he personally would have preferred to hear about the dragon. So Gandalf launched into the story and Sondo and the others listened avidly, having never heard the familiar story told this way.

But as he listened, he also began to think. What made Bilbo's adventure so much more adventurous than theirs was? Bilbo had come back with treasure, perhaps, but had that been the point? What had Bilbo really gained from his adventure - what was he gaining? Could it be - had he really been having a 'real' adventure all this time without really even realizing it? Perhaps so. It was worth thinking about, but later - once he got used to the idea.

Gandalf was finishing his story: "'Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!'" Lucky for them that Gandalf had come along, thought Sondo. And lucky for us, too.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo rubbed his knuckles against his eyes and struggled to stay alert. It was near nightfall and he felt increasingly tired and cranky. His side had begun to hurt again, though not so bad as last night. Bingo was so weary that he was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other and staying on the path.

Things had gone a great deal better with Gandalf in the lead than they had before. The hobbits had made excellent progress through the morning, singing and listening to tales as they tramped along their way. For lunch, Gandalf had pointed out a shady spot underneath a thick grove of trees where a number of fine mushrooms grew. The hobbits had made a feast of the mushrooms and finished off their meal with fresh water and some berries that Reggie discovered growing just a short distance away.

Setting off after lunch, they had tramped steadily onward for several hours. But as the afternoon wore on and Gandalf gave no sign that he meant to stop for dinner, a number of the hobbits began to grumble among themselves.

"I wonder where this blasted forest ends," Bingo whispered to Sassy, being careful to keep his voice low. "And I wonder if Gandalf ever means for us to stop and have a bite of dinner. My stomach is grumbling miserably..."

Bingo's voice trailed off as Gandalf turned about, imperiously tilting up one eyebrow while looking sternly looking at the young hobbit, "Perhaps, Master Bingo, you'd care to spend another night underneath these trees? Because that is what is going to happen unless we continue going steadily orward till we come to the edge of the wood. Every tree in the vicinity surely knows we're here. With all our singing and chattering, it would be hard for them not to hear us. Or did you forget how the trees tricked you to fall into the ravine?"

So that's what happened, Bingo thought. I knew it was more than our clumsiness or unfamiliarity with the woods. With a sigh, Bingo nodded his head, "All right, Master Gandalf. I'll do as you say. I don't want to sleep under these trees tonight any more than you do. Still, it would be nice to know when and where we'll be bedding down for some sleep. It's a good thing that we've got a full moon tonight...."

With that Bingo closed his mouth and continued walking forward hoping that very soon the trees would end and there would be a place to set up camp.

[Primrose Bolger]

The old man in grey walked briskly along, his strides short enough for the band of rag-tag children to keep up. There were grumbles as empty bellies protested their lack of food, but a word of encouragement from Gandalf and a bit of dried fruit and nuts helped them to push on.

It seemed to get darker as they neared what the man said was the edge of the forest. Sassy supposed it was because the sun was beginning to near the western horizon, though the trees ahead of their little band seemed to crowd in over the track they were following as if to drive them back into the forest.

‘Stop that!’ Sassy yelled as a small branch dipped down its leafy fingers and scratched her cheek. She was last in line and she could hear the tree creak as it bent toward her. She felt the malice of will as another branch whipped down to bar her path. Mustering her courage and her speed, the little girl ducked beneath it, feet flying as she pushed into the middle of the Hobbit line. Her panic had set the others now behind her running, too – to get away from whatever imagined horror had made Sassy run.

The group jostled up close to Gandalf just as he raised his tall staff and tapped the branches of two lowering trees, murmuring some uncaught words to let him and his companions pass. ‘Well, here we are,’ he said, stepping through the opening now between the trees. His feet met the soft grass of the clearing beyond, the last light of day softly lighting the tips.

He stepped to one side, just in time to miss the jumble of Hobbits that came piling through the narrowing portal. They fell over one another in their haste. Last was Sassy, who was almost through when a sharp ended branch snagged the edge of her cape. With a determined tug, she ripped it free and rolled backward, head over heels to the clearing.

‘Stupid, mean trees!’ she yelled back at the shadowed forest. With a big sigh of relief she picked herself up and stumbled over to where the others were. Gandalf was urging them toward a small, clear brook, saying this would be a good place to set up camp.

Sassy took one last look at the forest behind. The exit they’d come through had now closed, and she could almost hear a foul, dry laughter that chittered among the leaves. She turned away quickly and ran up to be near the old man.

[Kitanna]

Things were going a good deal better for the hobbits since Gandalf took the lead. Marroc trusted Sondo as a leader, but even he would never have been able to get them out of the forest. Now with every step the hobbits drew closer to the edge of the forest. Unfortunately with Gandalf in the lead they weren't stopping to eat and the wizard made it clear he had no plans to stop.

Marroc felt his stomach growl. He hoped the forest ended soon so they could stop and eat and rest their weary feet.

Marroc moved closer to Gandalf. "Is it true, do the trees really trick you here?"

Gandalf turned to him. Amusement in his eyes. "Have you heard none of the stories, young Marroc?"

"Of course I have, but I never thought any were true. I thought they were just stories to scare us." Marroc had been told hundreds of tales about various things he should be wary of. He barely believed any of them. Now he wished he had listened better to his elders.

"Even legends have some truth to them, Marroc." Gandalf said simply and turned his attention away.

Marroc thought about it for a moment and nodded to himself. He'd have to keep that in mind for any future adventures.

[Firefoot]

The little brook that Gandalf had pointed out looked like absolute heaven. The sun had now all but set, and none of them had eaten anything of substance since lunch. Sondo wondered how they had ever gotten through a couple days with hardly anything to eat, before they encountered those ruffians.

The hobbits quickly had a small fire going and the aroma of cooking meat filled the air. Some dry bread and fruit was passed around while the meat cooked, and those were gone in a matter of minutes. Luckily, the meat did not take long to cook and everyone was soon satisfied. Having eaten, most of the hobbits were ready to drop off; few of them had gotten much sleep the night before and it had been a long march.

Before doing so, however, Gandalf had a few word of advice for them. "You have come quite a ways north of where you entered the forest," he told them, "and you are almost home. If you follow this little brook for perhaps a mile, it will run into the Brandywine River. Keep the river in sight during your march tomorrow, and the Old Forest will give you no trouble. Your march tomorrow will be unpleasant, but not terribly difficult. Here between the Brandywine and the Old Forest is marshlands which are inhabited by little more than stinging insects. A full day's march will take you to the banks of the River Withywindle; I do not recommend trying to cross it during the night, nor should you camp too close to it's shores. You will have to use your wits to get across, but I have no doubt that you are capable."

"But wait!" said one of the hobbits. "Why are you telling us this? Won't you be with us?"

"I will not; I will probably be gone by the time you awake tomorrow," answered Gandalf. "I have important business elsewhere, and I have no doubts that you will not need my aid to get home. Your journey has been hard, but all of you have grown from it. Use what you know, rely on yourselves and each other, and you will be fine." Sondo had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, Gandalf's leadership had been vitally important in saving them from the forest, and could continue to be helpful, but under Gandalf's leadership, he had become just another of the group. "Leader" had merely been a nominative role, yet another blow to his pride. To top it all off, their trip had not really been any more adventurous than before Gandalf came; in fact, it may have even been less so. So, in all honesty, Sondo could not say he would be entirely sorry to see Gandalf go.

A few hobbits pleaded with Gandalf not to leave them, but while Sondo wasn't one of them, he wasn't obvious about it, either. One of those things he had learned was that he couldn't be a leader without having followers, a prospect that had been threatened more times than he liked.

Gandalf could not be moved to remain with them, and the talk eventually died down as the hobbits drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~*~

The sun was casting its first rays upon the land when Sondo awoke the next morning. Gandalf was gone, even as he had said, and Sondo was the leader again. The last stage of the journey was before them; here was his last chance to prove that his plan had not been an utter disaster. He knew he had made a real mess of things more than once, but not today, he wouldn't. Not today, and not for the rest of the trip.

With that in mind he got up, and a few others who were by now awake joined him. The rest were up once breakfast started cooking. They ate, put away their bedrolls, and shouldered their packs, ready to set off. Sondo led the way down the creek. The day was warm, and the creek shallow, so Sondo soon switched to walking in the creek. The cool water felt good on his feet as it swirled and bubbled past. And then - there it was! The Brandywine River, which none of them had seen for several days past, became visible. A broad grin lit Sondo's face. "Almost home, now," he murmured.

They turned north to follow the river. His good mood was quickly dampened as the ground became soggy, opening into shallow meres and pools. The insects were horrendous, biting and buzzing about their faces. Swatting at them in irritation, he nearly tripped into a pool of greenish-water. Cursed swamp. Sondo set his jaw. He had beaten ruffians and evil trees; he would not be ousted by bugs and marshes.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy could not tell which was worse. The muck or midges. She was wet to mid thigh with the slimy goo that passed for much of the marshland; her face and arms were welting up from the insect stings. No wonder the old man had left them, she thought to herself. Her only comfort, and small comfort at that, was that the others were as miserable as she.

Lunch was eaten as they slogged along. The little group had found that if they kept up a good pace, the insects were less able to land on them. Sassy’s legs, though, were growing tired and she did not know how long she could keep on being a moving target for the blood thirsty midges.

Sondo was leading the way and she hoped he had a clearer view of their route than she did. She was once again at the back of the line and her gaze was focused on the pair of muddy legs in front of her. If they stumbled or dodged something she made sure to avoid whatever obstacle there was as she came along.

As the sun set, cool breezes began to blow across the marshes from the two rivers. Now the Hobbits were wet and chilled. Sassy’s teeth began to chatter. She hoped with all her might that a patch of dry land could be found and a warm little fire built.

Tomorrow, she remembered the old man had said, they could safely cross the Withywindle and be home.

[piosenniel]

Firefoot's post

As the day faded into twilight, Sondo was beginning to wonder if they would ever see the end of these marshes. He was hungry, chilled, bug-bitten, and wet, but they could not stop and set up camp until they found some dry land. He was ready to be home, and wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a real bed.

Suddenly, he stepped foot onto firm ground. Looking around, he realized that they must be close to the Withywindle, for the Old Forest had curved around and was now not more than a half-mile to the east, and very close indeed to the north. Sure enough, some five hundred yards distant, he thought he could see where the Withywindle met the Brandywine, and beyond that, the tall, dark shape of the Hedge. Home was so close now... did they really have to spend another night here?

He stopped and turned to face the other hobbits. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to spend the night here, not with home in sight. Just past the Withywindle up there is Buckland. I know Gandalf said not to try to cross the Withywindle at night, and it’s starting to get pretty dark, but if we did, then we could be home tonight, with hot meals, clean, dry clothes, and real comfortable beds. And, unless we go and get wood from the Old Forest, there aren’t any trees from which we could get wood tonight for a fire.” He looked around, trying to figure out if they agreed or not. “We don’t have to, but I think that we should try to cross the Withywindle tonight.”

[Encaitare]

Home! The word never sounded so enticing to him before. Only a few days ago Reggie had so badly wanted to leave, but now the thought of going back to the comfort of Brandy Hall was far more appealing. However...

"Gandalf said we shouldn't cross the river by night," he said. As much as he wanted to be back home, he trusted the wise old man, who had seemed to know so much more than he was telling. "I don't know about you all, but I think I can wait one more night to get home."

[Primrose Bolger]

She was dirty, and ragged, and scratched and bitten. All her things she’d brought along on this adventure were gone save for the sling and rocks she had jammed firmly in her breeches pocket.

Just across the dumb river lay home. Sassy could almost catch the scent of one of her ma’s stews dancing on the breeze. She imagined she could hear her Gammer rocking in her little chair, sighing as she waited for Sassy to come listen to a story. She simply couldn’t stand it any longer. She had had enough of adventuring!

As fast as her feet could carry her, she ran down to the edge of the Withywindle and waded into the water. She called to the others left gathered about Sondo.

‘Hey! Come on! I want to go home!’

[Kitanna]

“We don’t have to, but I think that we should try to cross the Withywindle tonight.” Sondo said.

Marroc cast a weary eye to Sondo. Hadn't Gandalf advised against crossing the Withywindle at night? Wouldn't they be safer trying to cross in the daylight. He looked to his other companions, but he could not tell what they thought of crossing now.

"Maybe we should wait," Marroc said, "We've had some bad luck this trip and I don't want to end it like this. Not when we're so close to home. We are all going to be in a lot of trouble as it is, so what's another day to our punishment?"

Marroc feel silent, hoping desperately Sondo would take that into consideration. He knew everyone just wanted to get home, but if they took the chance and crossed now they might never make it.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam had come to the end of his attention span. Yes, he wanted desperately to get back home. He couldn't exactly recall when he had had a decent meal last. Yet, the young hobbit knew that Gandalf was far more versed on subjects like rivers and crossing them at night and he tended to believe the man. He stood, listening to them as they bickered over going over.

"Hey!" Sam yelled, his bottled up frustrations finally taking over. The group stopped and looked at him.

"Listen you fools. We cross that river by ourselves in the dead of night and we will all die. Do you not remember what has already happened on this river? It is because this river that we did not get to the places that we wanted to see. Granted it all was one big adventure, but we can not navigate that blasted river. We are all tired, depleated of energy, and some are clearly not thinking straight. The brilliant thing to do is to camp. I know that you all want to get back home. I want to get back home too. Yet you have to think about the circumstances. It is dark. That river is winding. One misstep and we all will go down the river, possibly drown and die. Is that what you all want? To drown and die in the river right in front of our own homes? That thought is completely suicidial!" Sam yelled.

He threw a hand into his hair and turned away from them. He turned back, the fury building within him causing his body to shake with its full intensity.

"Gandalf is wise. He knows far more then any of us. And at the first sign of home you want to risk any chance of getting back alive. Do you want Gandalf to have to bring back our dead bodies to our parents? Do you? Do you want your parents to have to deal with that fact? I have known you all for quite some time. I have gone of this journey. I have had a change of heart, as all of you have noticed. I have tried to help. I have followed Sondo's lead, but if you, Sondo, are going to put all the lives of everyone here in danger then I am stepping up. What you propose is a death wish. Yes I will give it to you that there is a slight possibility that we will make it, but what about that bigger possibility that we will be wisked away and that we will have to travel any further?"

"If you all want to be fools and go ahead and kill yourselves, just go for it. I will not be the one that takes your bodies back."

Sam stood in front of them all, his fury finally dying down. He crossed his arms and gave them all a very hard stare.

"The choice is yours. Wait patiently and we cross in the daylight and get home alive or follow Sondo and get yourselves killed and come back home in a box. What is it going to be."

[Nurumaiel]

Firefoot's post:

Sondo was becoming increasingly annoyed with Sam as he went on. What did they all want of him?! They say they want to have input, so he gives it to them, and now Sam just explodes! He had asked for opinions; he hadn't said it was what they would do.

"The choice is yours. Wait patiently and we cross in the daylight and get home alive or follow Sondo and get yourselves killed and come back home in a box. What is it going to be."

"Are you done?" asked Sondo. "Because if you are, I have a few things to say to you, Sam. First of all, I never said that we were going to cross right now; I said that I thought we should try. It's not very wide, it's not quite dark yet, and we're all wet and will be chilled, so it seemed like a worthwhile suggestion. So excuse me for trying to cover all of our options! And also, if you want to argue with me, maybe you should get all of your facts straight first! This is not the Brandywine, which we were sailing down. This is the Withywindle, and it is less deep and swift than the Brandywine, even if it does come down out of the Old Forest.

"I don't mind hearing your opinion, Sam, but you know what? I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me like an utter idiot. I've gotten us this far, and I'll admit I may have made some mistakes, but I'd say overall I've done a pretty decent job of it. If your fury is what I've earned for it all, so be it, but I don't want to hear it. Obviously you're not the only one who feels that we should camp here for another night, and that's fine! But, Sam, I have not come this far to hear you yelling at me." Never once had Sondo raised his voice, but his cold words were dripping with hot intesity and fury, and his eyes were blazing.

Sondo deliberately turned his back on Sam and, without giving the other lad a chance to respond, spoke to the others, his voice sounding strangely pleasant. "I'll be honest; I'd really like to be home tonight, with a warm meal and bed and clean clothes. The river can't be more than 25 feet across and not too deep, and Gandalf left us that rope - it's pretty long. But most of you seem to want to camp here another night, so if you're all against me then we can do so. But, unless you want wood from the Old Forest, both the night and the food will be chilly and wet. If we are going to stay here, though, I suppose we'd best get away from this river and unpack." This last was said with a mournful look at the river. There was home. He was certain that they would be able to cross the river, but he couldn't, nor would he, do it alone. He looked around expectantly, hoping for some support from at least one of the lads, since Sassy's vote didn't exactly count. If he didn't want the popular choice, though, at least he would follow the popular concensus.

*********************************

Nurumaiel's post:

Did I seem like that to the others?

Falco could not help but wonder. It was a humiliating thought. He agreed with what Sam said, but he did not agree with how Sam said it. There was no need to lose tempers. But he had done the same thing. It became even clearer to him that he was in the wrong, and that he would have to make it up with Sondo.

"Thank you, Sam," he said, patting the lad on the shoulder. Perhaps it was an odd thing to say, but he was grateful. He realised now that he had erred before, and it would not be so hard to apologise to Sondo now. He believed he should apologise... it took only humility now. "And," he added to the angry young hobbit, "calm down.

"I agree with the others, Sondo," he said, and thought rather miserably that he wouldn't look better in Sondo's eyes for teaming up against him. "I'm very anxious to get home, but I think it would be safer to wait." Sondo would be feeling overwhelmed with all this opposition, as he had been at the mutiny. He cringed at the word, and then lifted his chin a little. It was true... but he'd make up for it. He moved closer to Sondo and spoke in very friendly tones. "I can't agree with Sam that we'd be fools to try," he said. "I don't think you're a fool, you know. Maybe you're right, and we could make it all right. But we're all rather exhausted from this adventure, and perhaps it would be better to wait until morning, when both the sky and our minds are a bit lighter." He hesitated for a half a moment, and then put a hand on Sondo's shoulder and smiled the most confident and comradely smile he knew.

[Firefoot]

So be it, thought Sondo wearily. They would spend another night here, since it seemed that at least half if not all the others were against him. He wondered where he stood in their eyes. He doubted that he was the same high-ranking leader that he had been at the beginning. Maybe you're losing it, thought Sondo to himself. He was the leader, not the dictator. It was a nice niche, so long as the leader status was maintained.

He was slightly startled at Falco's hand on his shoulder. He met Falco's eyes and saw only friendship. He smiled back. "If you don't mind... I'd like to talk with you tonight," he murmured. Falco nodded, and Sondo addressed the rest of the group.

"Come on, then," he said. "Let's get camp set up before it is utterly dark." He caught the relief on several faces as he turned to lead them away from the Withywindle's bank. He stopped about half way between the marshes and the river, figuring about an eighth of a mile to be far enough distant. He was only too happy to put down his pack; after carrying it all day, it seemed much heavier than it actually was. The others set up their bedrolls as well, and then they started to unpack some dinner.

As he had expected, the bread was soggy and had to be thrown out. The meat was wet and cold since there was no fire to heat it, but otherwise edible. The fruit seemed little the worse for the wear. After the food had been doled out, Sondo waved Falco over. Falco fell into step beside him, and after a few moments of uneasy silence, Sondo said, "I guess we were both acting kind of stubborn, back when the raft crashed." Pride told him that Falco had been more wrong than he, and the mutiny still hurt. But in the end, his friendships were worth more to him than grudges, and Falco had been a good friend. And maybe he shouldn't have lost his temper like he had... He gave Falco a jaunty smile. "Friends?"

[Nurumaiel]

Falco swallowed hard. He hadn't expected it so soon. He had hoped for some time to grow used to the idea of casting away his pride, and at the moment his pride was still heavily upon him. But he would not, could not, reject Sondo's friendship. He took a deep breath.

"I'm awful sorry for the way I acted earlier," he said, very hurriedly. "I shouldn't have disagreed with you in the first place, but if I really had to disagree, I ought to have done it in a way that was more respectful to your position as leader. As it was, I not only disagreed with you myself, but did my best to make the others think the same way as I. Thank goodness they all had the good sense to either stay with you or abandon me later.

"I'd like to say, Sondo, that you've just proved what a good leader you are. If you'd been such a bad leader as I've been implying throughout this whole trip, you wouldn't have taken everything as graciously as you did. You gave in to us when you saw you were out-voted. If you were a bad leader you would have insisted on having your own way, against majorities and even against common sense. You've done a wonderful job, and I'm sorry for making things so hard on you."

He drew another deep breath, and smiled rather shakily. "There! That was rather hard to say, but I'm glad I did." He reached over and grasped Sondo's hand in his own, shaking it heartily. "Friends."

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy could see by the expression on his face that Sondo was expecting one of the boys to support him. Never mind that she had thought it a good idea to go home. She didn’t count. She hadn’t from the first and how stupid of her not to have learned her lesson by now. But none of the boys had stood by him. They were all for waiting til morning before they dared the river.

And now Sondo had come round to their way of thinking. She looked to where Falco was standing, talking seriously to her brother. Looked like they were patching up their friendship. Sassy shook her head, thinking about how things had started out between the two of them. And now look at them . . . the adventure at least had brought those two together.

‘I wish I coulda . . .’ she thought, then took a deep breath and shrugged it off. No point in wishing for what would never be. ‘Sassy,’ she muttered to herself in her mother’s voice, ‘I hope you learned your lesson. You never shoulda tried to tag along in the first place.’

The boys had trooped back to a drier place, away from the river. Some of them were setting up a little camp while others gathered firewood. Sassy hung back, knowing no one would pay attention to what she was doing. With all of them bent to their tasks, she made her way slowly back to the edge of the river.

There were willows that grew down to water, their thick roots dipping down into the Withywindle. She climbed out onto one of the bigger tree’s roots, hanging onto a slender sucker branch for support. In the gathering darkness, she thought she could see the small glow of old Rufus Burrows' little house that stood on the small rise just beyond the Hedge. It didn’t seem so very far away and the water that flowed past her toes seemed slow and easy going.

Sassy sat down on her bottom and slid into the river. Here near the tree’s roots it was shallow and sandy, coming only to mid calf. She walked out further. It was chilly, of course, against her legs, but she’d been colder than this during the spill in the Brandywine. Her cloak was weighing her down as it wicked up the water. She shrugged it off and watched it roll slowly on the river’s current, until it became too soggy and was pulled under.

Her eyes were fixed on the other shore, though it was harder and harder to see in the gathering dark. Her little arms came up, elbows held out to the side as she stepped carefully along on the rounded rocks that led into the middle of the channel. The water grew deeper coming up now to her armpits.

She wasn’t frightened though, as she kept her goal in sight. She was halfway across, she was sure. A noise from the bank behind her made her turn. Someone had called to her, she thought, but it was only the cry of a nighthawk hunting the fat, tasty moths that rose up with the moonlight. Caught off balance as she turned back, her feet slipping on the mossy rocks, she went under for a moment. Then righting herself in the water, she tried to find some traction for her feet. But the current had pushed her a little ways downstream and into the deepest part of the channel.

Sassy bobbed up and down, pushing as hard as she could to move toward a shallower section. But the water was too deep now, and she was cold, and growing tired. An eddying current turned her about so that in the distance she could see the little campfire the boys had built. And just as quickly it turned her again. The other bank was so far away she saw in an almost dreamy manner. She thought perhaps she should call out, but her lips were too numb to obey.

So cold, and so tired. Her desperate eyes closed against her will. With an ‘O’ of surprise, or perhaps welcome, she felt the night-dark waters of the old river roll over her.

[Firefoot]

Sondo grinned, and was about to say something when he caught sight of their camp. Wait - why were there only five hobbits? Falco looked at him with evident concern. "What's wrong?"

"Hang on," muttered Sondo. He quickly counted again. Where was the sixth? His eyes scanned the surrounding area, once, then again. There! He caught sight of someone; what were they doing? Laying on the ground? No, he was in the river. And not a he, either! The bobbing curls could only belong to Sassy. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Sassy... in the river...

"No! Sassy!" he cried. Just then her head dipped out of sight. He sprinted off in her direction, hoping against all hope that he would not be too late. Fear and panic propelled him faster than he would have thought possible, but even so precious seconds were wasted in the time it took him to reach the river. He scanned the river desperately for some sign of his sister. Where was she? How long had it been? A minute? Two? Time was running out!

There! Her still form was bobbing along, maybe ten feet downstream of him. He made to dive in after her and found himself being bodily restrained by the other lads, all of whom were at least a little larger than he himself was. "Easy, Sondo," said one of them gently. Sondo did not know who; his eyes had not left his sister. "She's gone. You can't be throwing your life away, too."

A spark of madness lit his eyes. Sassy could not be dead! He would not, could not, allow it! With an impassioned burst of strength he twisted and pulled from their grasp. Before any of them realized what was happening, Sondo was in the water. Water was in his mouth, and he could see only barely between the dim light and the splashing water. He was completely consumed by a single thought: Must save Sassy... Swimming as hard as he could, he was soon within mere inches of her. Her face was in the water, and she did not move save for how the current took her. Sondo told himself that she was merely unconcious. He reached out his hand for her when suddenly she was not so close. With a swirling wave, they were pushed out into the Brandywine.

Sondo was tired to the bone, but he did not take notice of it. Madness and fear drove him. Sassy would get home, just like the rest of them. It took him a moment to spot her again, and when he did, she was further away from him than when he had started. Hang on, Sassy. I'm coming. Doggedly he struck out again. His limbs were numbing in the chill water, but it did not bother him.

Finally, finally he caught up with her. Taking his arm around her waist, he struck out towards shore. He neither knew nor cared how far downriver they had washed; Sassy was safe. He staggered up on shore, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. He refused to quit, however, and taking Sassy's still form in his arms he took off back towards the camp. He was back in the marshes, and he stumbled more than once before he was met by some of the other hobbits who had run downstream after him. One of them offered to take Sassy; Sondo refused with a few mumbled words. He had to get Sassy back to camp. He no longer cared if a fire must be made with wood from the Old Forest. Anything to keep Sassy alive.

It was perhaps an hour later and pitch dark when he stumbled into their camp. He laid Sassy out on his own bedroll. She was cold, too cold. He covered her with a blanket. He checked for her breathing; there was nothing. She had no pulse, either. She was gone. He had done everything that he could, and she was gone. Tears now formed in his eyes as he gathered Sassy up in his lap. Why, why had he not insisted that they cross the Withywindle tonight? Then Sassy would not have tried it alone. They would have come up with a safe way to do it. And why hadn't he been nicer to her these past several days? He knew that she had admired him, in her way, yet he had scorned her. Always he had told her to go run and play. Why hadn't he insisted that she go home on that very first afternoon? There were so many things that he might have done instead. Your fault, your fault, your fault, bounced the voices in his head. Alas that he had not kept a closer eye on her!

He began to shiver as a damp chill set in. He did not care. He would not leave Sassy, because she was his sister, and only too late did Sondo realize that he had loved her, in his own way. Except now she was gone.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo sat on the ground shuddering, his eyes shadowed with disbelief, as he watched the sad tableau played out on the shoreline. This should not be happening: not here and now when they were so close to home. He had been so caught up in listening to the other lads argue that he had paid no attention to Sassy or what she was doing. He cursed his own inattention. Why did this have to happen? Their trek was supposed to be a fun adventure, not a tale filled with tragedy. The whole thing didn't seem fair, certainly not to Sassy and, to be truthful, not even to himself. He had lost both his parents without warning in the middle of the night, and now a companion was gone too. For a moment, life seemed too difficult to bear.

Bingo peered over at Sondo, thinking that he should try and help him, but a number of the other lads were already crowded round and were coming to his aid. At that moment he spied his brother standing off to the side. Bingo looked closely at Reggie; his brother's face was filled with concern, yet also with awareness and maturity. Somehow his little brother didn't look so little anymore. Without thinking, Bingo impulsively rushed over to Reggie and threw his arms around his slender frame and hugged him possessively. "I am so proud of you. You have grown up, and I didn't even notice. I should have seen it back home, but it took this trip to show me. You're ready to go your own way, but just be careful with yourself and don't run off on your own without me if there's anything I can do to help...."

[Encaitare]

Reggie's heart swelled with appreciation of Bingo's words despite the sorrow he felt. "Well, it's not such a big deal, really," he said modestly, returning Bingo's embrace. "I guess I had a good role model."

"I can't believe it, though," he continued in a hushed tone when they let go. "I mean, after all that we've been through, it's now, so close to home that this has to happen. Why her, though? It could've been any of us, at any time. She wasn't even supposed to be here." He furrowed his brow. "Neither was I, come to think of it."

"None of us were supposed to be here," Bingo reminded him.

"You're right. We weren't. We're still not." There was silence for a few moments while Reggie thought. He hadn't even known Sassy that well; she had mostly kept to herself. The ones she'd most spoken to were Sondo and Sam, and now Reggie regretted that he hadn't been more friendly. "Bingo?" he said at last.

"Yes, Reggie?"

"I don't think I want any more adventures. Not for a long time."

[Firefoot]

When Sondo awoke the next morning, he had little recollection of the previous night save for his swim after Sassy. The memory seemed to have been replaced by a splitting headache. He lay in his own bedroll; Sassy had been covered up in hers. He knew not whether he or another had put her there, but he was glad, for he did not desire to see her face. His grief had been replaced by a dull sense of duty. He was still the leader. He must get the others across the river safely. They would not end as Sassy had.

When he tried to get up, he found that his limbs were stiff and his muscles, sore. His clothes still retained some dampness from the previous night. No, he did not feel very well at all. He would not let it show, though, and moved about camp as easily as he could manage. He pulled some breakfast out of the packs, giving to the others as they awoke. He said little, and his motions were by rote. He had hit the same level of focus that he had felt the former night when trying to reach Sassy, only now his goal was Must get everyone home safely.

Once everyone was awake and had eaten and the sun risen above the trees, Sondo spoke up, "Well, let's get going. Maybe we can be home by noon." The only optimistic part about this sentence was the words, for his tone carried no enthusiasm for the task. Certainly, he wanted to be home, but suddenly he was loathe for this adventure to be over, for what would he do then? Could he so easily go back to the pranks and mischief that he had so much enjoyed before leaving? He did not know, and the not knowing troubled him more than anything else.

The lads hefted their packs for the short walk to the river. Sondo carried Sassy's body wrapped in a blanket. He wondered how to get across during this trek and, by the time they reached the Withywindle, had in mind a plan to get them all across.

First, after gently laying Sassy's form down on the ground, he dug out the rope Gandalf had left hem from his pack. It looked long enough to stretch across the river easily. Then he looked around for a fallen log or some other such thing that might work for a boat. Luckily, he spotted one about twenty feet from the river, and it didn't look to be rotten.

"Okay, here's my plan," he said. "I don't want to have to swim across, and I don't trust the branches of these trees enough to swing across on a rope." He felt silly saying this, but he knew they would understand what he meant. "So, as nearly as I can tell, the only other way is to row across. We can use that log over there-" Sondo pointed. "-for a boat. To ensure that no one slips-" (What he meant was drowns) "-we can tie the rope around each hobbit as they go, so if they fall off the log they can be pulled back to shore. All right?"

[Kitanna]

Marroc woke the next morning feeling strangely distant. He barely slept at all the night before, he kept thinking of Sassy's lifeless form lying in Sondo's arms. At first no one had wanted her along and now it was so hard to let go. They should have known better, Sassy had so wanted to go home. But it was too late now. Marroc knew this, all they could do now was get themselves home safely and bear Sassy's body back to her parents.

Sondo looked tired and gave instructions to the others as they prepared for the final leg of their so-called adventure. The lads all followed him down to the river. It was the only thing standing between them and home.

"We can use that log over there. We can tie the rope around each hobbit as they go, so if they fall off the log they can be pulled back to shore." Sondo said.

A few of the lads went to retrieve the fallen log Sondo was pointing at. When the log had been set in the river everyone looked to Sondo.

Marroc let out a sighed, and moved closer to Marroc. "Can I go first?" He wanted to get over to the otherside as fast as possible. He knew it was selfish after what had happened, but he couldn't bare being one of the last to go.

"Yes, Marroc." Sondo said, handing him the rope.

Marroc smiled weakly and scanned the ground for a small branch that could pass for an oar. When he found one he tied the rope to his waist and knelt on the log. The other lads picked up the other end and helped Marroc cast off.

It isn't so bad, he thought as he slowly rowed out. Finally Marroc was close enough to the other side. He reached a foot out and found that the water was not so deep anymore. He hopped off the log into water that was just below his waist. He moved closer to the shore.

Marroc untied the rope and tied into onto the log and signaled for his friends to pull it back over. "Who's next?" He called when the log was back on the other shore.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo watched uneasily as the other hobbits made their way across the river one-by-one while clinging to the log. When Bingo's turn came, he climbed aboard the makeshift craft and took hold of the branch. His paltry strokes did little to propel the log to the other side of the river. It was the hobbits who stood on the far bank and pulled on the rope with all their might who actually guided the log over to the shore.

Bingo slid down from the log once he'd reached the shallow waters, wading through the reeds and bracken, and then clambering onto the muddy bank. Home was close now, no more than a short walk away. Yet Bingo felt no joy and little relief to be safely out of danger. Sassy was not coming home: not now, not ever. The one message pounding through his mind was that they should never have gone. None of them were old or wise enough to deal with the perils of the road. It would have been bad enough if Sassy had died defending them from some danger. But an accident like this seemed random and senseless as if there was no real purpose or meaning in it.

Bingo walked over towards Sondo. His friend's face was a blank so that it was hard to tell with certainty what he was thinking or feeling. But one thing was painfully clear to Bingo. The only possible way to live in a world where bad things happen at random was to offer a helping hand to those around you, especially the hobbits you cared the most about. That's what his aunts and uncles had done by taking them in after his parents' death. In their own bumbly way, they were trying to repair the bad stuff and make things at least a little better.

Bingo came up to Sondo and spoke, "You did alright. You did your best by us. That's all anybody can do. Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don't. None of us meant for this to happen. There isn't a hobbit here who wouldn't have stuck his neck out for Sassy and tried to rescue her if we could have. We didn't know her when she started. But she showed us what she was made of. Really, she was a lot like you.....a born leader and a generous hobbit. I'm sorry, Sondo. I'm so sorry. And once we get back, it's not going to be easy. If I can help you get through this, if there's anything I can do, just let me know. " He added softly, "I can still remember how I felt after my parents died." Bingo's voice trailed off.

[Firefoot]

"Thanks, Bingo," Sondo answered softly. "And not only for what you said... just, thanks." Bingo nodded in acceptance, not saying anything but offering Sondo his support. Sondo looked away southward, following the path of the Brandywine for as far as he could see it. Curséd river. You crashed the raft, took our supplies and left us with nothing but an argument, and now you took my sister's life. Curséd river. How could something so serene looking be so vicious and deadly? We never stood a chance. Why, oh, why did I think this to be such a grand idea? We were in over our heads, and I'm to blame, and I'm not the only one to pay. Curséd adventure. Thrice curséd river.

You gave in to us when you saw you were out-voted. If you were a bad leader you would have insisted on having your own way, against majorities and even against common sense. You've done a wonderful job, and I'm sorry for making things so hard on you.

You did alright. You did your best by us. That's all anybody can do. Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don't. None of us meant for this to happen. So why did he feel so guilty? He had done his best, used his best judgment... yet it all turned out horribly. Yet, had it all been horrible? Certainly he had learned a lot, and he had done a lot of reevaluating. Friends, family, these were more important than his own proud position as leader and the adventure itself. A rude awakening, mayhap, but he had needed it. Alas that it had taken so much in order to get through to his head! So now, the only thing he truly regretted was the loss of his sister. There isn't a hobbit here who wouldn't have stuck his neck out for Sassy and tried to rescue her if we could have. We didn't know her when she started. But she showed us what she was made of. Really, she was a lot like you.....a born leader and a generous hobbit. Yes, she was like him, wasn't she? Much more so than he ever would have realized before. I'll never forget you, Sassy. Never, ever, ever.

He had almost forgotten that Bingo was standing there, but now he turned back to his friend and smiled, just a little, but a smile at any rate. Neither hobbit said anything, but they understood.

Sondo turned back to those gathered on the bank and realized that the final lad was finishing the crossing. Triumph was evident in the air, and some even put up a small cheer. It had been a long and difficult road, but here they were, standing in their very own Buckland. Brandy Hall was only a few short miles away.

"Come on," he said, tired, filled with grief, and yet at peace. "Let's go home."

[Encaitare]

As they headed towards home, Reggie lagged towards the back of the group. The whole thing had been more or less disastrous -- a ruined raft, ruffians, wolves... death. Bingo apparently thought that his younger brother had grown up a lot, and Reggie felt that he really had. He'd seen and been through so much, and though he only wanted to go home, he was at least grateful that he had learned a bit about the world, as well as won Bingo's respect.

The birds sang as Reggie ran to catch up with his brother.

[Kitanna]

Kitanna's post:

So, it all ended here, on the banks of the Withywindle. It had started out as an adventure, but quickly turned into a nightmare. Marroc had never been so happy at the idea of getting in trouble.

When he walked into his home and his family screamed and carried on about him he'd still be happy. He was home and that was truly all that mattered to him. He knew he'd be grieving over Sassy for a long time, but for one moment he'd be happy beyond words.

Marroc looked at down the path that would lead home and then at his friends. He smiled weakly. He turned his gaze back to the path. So close now. I think I'll hold off on adventures for awhile, he thought as he continued along.

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Boromir88's post:

Rory thought he would never see the day when he'd be so excited about returning back home. He knew he was in for a pretty big licking, but that was a lot better than never seeing his family again, or them not knowing what happened to him.

They finally crossed the Withywindle, and were gradually getting closer to the Shire. I would give up anything for a warm bed and some delicious eggs right about now, though Rory. He looked at Sondo who had his face down and was slowly trudging along.

"It wasn't just your fault Sondo. We all should have been nicer and payed attention to her more than we did." Rory had to use the word "her." He could not bring himself to saying the name. Sondo nodded, not feeling any better. It was going to be a long time before the Hobbits ever decided to do something adventurous again, if ever.

[Firefoot]

Thus did their adventure end. It had not been the excellent adventure of which they had dreamed; quite the opposite, almost everything that could have gone wrong did. They were not returning on fine ponies, praised by all the hobbits of the Shire, but on their own tired feet, noted only by the birds. The journey had been rough for all of them, but through their own resourcefulness, determination, and courage the lads had made it back. The final and most grievous stage of their journey had been passed, and there were only a few short miles left. Finally and already, they had reached the Shire. Unreal as it seemed that their adventure should be over, it was. This was Buckland.

They were home.

[piosenniel]

~*~ FINIS ~*~

[piosenniel]

** To Elvenhome **