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piosenniel · 06-17-2003, 12:30 PM

Ben looked round with a surprised expression on his face, his cheeks reddening. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear his story, other than Old Bill. Old Bill grunted at his discomfiture, while Ben stuttered through a response to Penny.

‘I . . . I’m not sure about who told him, Penny. My Da seemed to know who it was though, when Farmer Maggot spoke a few lines of some strange poem, song, this old guy had told him.’ Ben’s forehead wrinkled as he called up in his memory the little scrap of verse. ‘Here it is!’ he said, his face brightening.

Get out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains! . . .

‘Sorry, but that’s all I can remember.’

Been looked around at the other Hobbits, who had all drawn near as he sang the strange little tune about the ghastly creature. The day seemed to have grown chillier, as a wisp of clouds trailed over the sun for a moment. The Hobbits shivered, thinking about cold mists and wailing winds.

Rosie raised her eyebrows at the completion of the singsong verse, thinking to herself, ‘Now that’s a good thing to know, isn’t it. Wights don’t like the sunlight.’ The intrepid lass filed that away as an important fact, just in case she might need it one day.

‘Oh no!’ cried Falco, who had left the fish and birds cooking over the fire. The smell of burning meat filled the air. The little fire had licked up greedily and was in the process of consuming the rest of their hot food.

The Hobbits scattered like leaves in the wind, racing back to the fire. Each grabbed at a stick with a fish or bird on it and waved it madly in the air to put out the flames.

The wights forgotten for the moment, they set to finishing off their breakfasts. All the fish were soon eaten, and the birds were wrapped in some large tree leaves and stuffed into vest pockets for munching on later.

Ben watched as Olo scattered the remains of the little fire and heaped dirt on the last of the glowing coals. He leaned in toward Mirabella, who was just finishing the last of her overdone fish.

‘Looks like we should be leaving soon,’ he said, looking about the little camp. ‘I wonder which direction we’ll be heading . . .’

06-17-2003, 12:30 PM	#69
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Ben looked round with a surprised expression on his face, his cheeks reddening. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear his story, other than Old Bill. Old Bill grunted at his discomfiture, while Ben stuttered through a response to Penny. ‘I . . . I’m not sure about who told him, Penny. My Da seemed to know who it was though, when Farmer Maggot spoke a few lines of some strange poem, song, this old guy had told him.’ Ben’s forehead wrinkled as he called up in his memory the little scrap of verse. ‘Here it is!’ he said, his face brightening. Get out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight! Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing, Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains! . . . ‘Sorry, but that’s all I can remember.’ Been looked around at the other Hobbits, who had all drawn near as he sang the strange little tune about the ghastly creature. The day seemed to have grown chillier, as a wisp of clouds trailed over the sun for a moment. The Hobbits shivered, thinking about cold mists and wailing winds. Rosie raised her eyebrows at the completion of the singsong verse, thinking to herself, ‘Now that’s a good thing to know, isn’t it. Wights don’t like the sunlight.’ The intrepid lass filed that away as an important fact, just in case she might need it one day. ‘Oh no!’ cried Falco, who had left the fish and birds cooking over the fire. The smell of burning meat filled the air. The little fire had licked up greedily and was in the process of consuming the rest of their hot food. The Hobbits scattered like leaves in the wind, racing back to the fire. Each grabbed at a stick with a fish or bird on it and waved it madly in the air to put out the flames. The wights forgotten for the moment, they set to finishing off their breakfasts. All the fish were soon eaten, and the birds were wrapped in some large tree leaves and stuffed into vest pockets for munching on later. Ben watched as Olo scattered the remains of the little fire and heaped dirt on the last of the glowing coals. He leaned in toward Mirabella, who was just finishing the last of her overdone fish. ‘Looks like we should be leaving soon,’ he said, looking about the little camp. ‘I wonder which direction we’ll be heading . . .’ __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.