Lotho watched with narrowed eyes as many young hobbits almost ran to the Bullroarer to proclaim that they wanted to go on this journey. Suddenly, he strode up from the wall he had been leaning on casually and looked at the Bullroarer evenly.
"So you've got your expert huntsmen and fighters," he said. "But what good will the journey if you don't get what you want? You need a negotiator. I can help you."
He looked at the Bullroarer, who smiled.
"You're right. Very well. You may come."
Lotho nodded and swiftly left the room. He didn't need to pack much, but there were some things he needed to see to.
*****
Lotho sat in front of the fire in his small hobbit hole. All in all, it had been a good day. He'd managed to sell the perishable goods that he had attained, had sharpened his knife, packed his few belongings and had obtained a winter cloak for an excellent price. The old clock on the wall told him that it was seven o' clock. He would have a meal at the Green Dragon. He looked around his warm little home one last time, took the key off the wall and stepped outside. He locked the door securely, sighing as he regarded the faded green door fondly. Tucking his cloak around him, he hurried off down the lanes, head bent against the cold.
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