* Going out the entryway to seek suitably dry firewood, Giles Harfoot's head snapped around despite himself on hearing Bullroarer's words to Tomba about salt. Salt. Now That's what he wanted. More precious than gems, indeed! For salt, like the red-gold serpent dagger he'd borrowed from the noble warrior, could come in handy. Salt had other uses besides flavoring. Salt could melt ice, for one thing, so he'd been told. Giles wished for salt to fall from the sky, enough salt to melt all the snow, and sighed. *
* As for the dagger, Giles found himself growing attached to the weapon in the strangest of ways. Yes, he'd return it as he said. But Giles wanted the dagger to be his secret, without Bullroarer, or Branda, or anyone hovering around. And his dagger, well his borrowed dagger, would not go to the Elves. In fact, Giles cared not to cart fancy treasure to Rivendell. He was a more practical down-to-earth Hobbit, only on this adventure because he'd drawn the short straw, after all. And promised to return the dagger. *
* In the distance, Gaddy and Autumn called for Giles, singsonging that he was dilly-dallying. Even the Bullroarer had noticed his daydreaming, and was about to tap him on the shoulder so he'd move from his position blocking the doorway. Giles finally spoke what was on his mind. *
About toting treasure to the Elves, Master Bullroarer. I prefers to earn things with my own hands. As a carpenter, be glad to mend loose hinges on their doors, build cabinets, repair dresser drawers, all manner of things. Everyday things, if you take my meaning.
* Giles' heartfelt speech was interrupted by an incoming snowball hitting him squarely in the chest. He laughed, bowed to Bullroarer, and ran out to catch up with Autumn and Carl. *
* Giles felt his vest pocket protectively. Salt shaker and pepper shaker still intact from that time they'd had oatmeal for breakfast at the inn. Good. *
[ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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