* The wind generated by his fleeing feet was enough to slam the door behind Erling Greenhands. But this was not the sort of exit he'd hoped to make. Erling blushed, turned, opened the door, bowed low. Taking his leave, he assured his short-term hosts that he'd be happy enough to stay and enjoy their kind hospitality, but courtesy demanded that he fulfill his previous social commitment to the Broadbelts. The door closed again in a more usual fashion, and Erling breathed easier. *
Hob! What a relief to see you! Hamson and Primrose Goodbody wouldn't admit their names until after they'd sampled mushrooms from my sack, and asked me for tidings of our quest. Muttered something about, 'Why should them uppity Broadbelts always get to play town crier, just because they live in them fancy smials? Our hole may be humble, but the stew's just as good, and our family just as fit to host Messengers.' At first I kept looking through the window, expecting you'd come. But as soon as I learned this was a case of mistaken identity, I set out to find you, even though the Goodbodies only grinned at me and wouldn't tell when I asked where the Broadbelts lived.
[ September 12, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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