[Envinyatar]

Dumpling was one of Derufin’s favorites. As plump as one of the doughy concoctions he was named for, he was the perfect mount for Halfred. He was a slow, sturdy little pony whose main interests settled around the topic of food. When could he have it, and how much, and would there be second helpings or at least an apple or carrot to fill in the empty places? He was happiest with a nosebag of oats on, or following Derufin about the yard, nudging him gently or not so, to remind him it was time for a sugar lump or a stray piece of bread. He was in fact, even now, sniffing about the lower pocket of the man’s leather vest. There was a suspicious lump in it, and the delicious smell of a Shire apple.

‘Incorrigible!’ laughed Derufin, pushing the pony’s nose away. ‘No need to tie you up is there, Dumpling? You wouldn’t run far from the sweet treats would you?’

As if in answer, the pony looked up at him and snorted decisively, shaking his mane and stamping his from hoof solidly on the ground. He nudged the man in the side, and nickered softly at him.

Derufin drew the apple from his pocket and winked at Dumpling as he bit it neatly in two. I’ll give you half,’ he said grinning, holding the offering out on the flat of his palm. ‘The rest is for me!’

The pony was done in the blink of an eye with the apple, and Derufin left him to graze on the greensward as he mounted the steps to the Inn. Halfred should be almost done giving out his letters, perhaps he could entice a few tidbits of news from him over another pint and a pipeful of Longbottom Leaf.

He waved to Halfred with his pipe and mimed a drink, then nodded his head at a table near the window. The Hobbit, done with his deliveries, took him up on his offer and plunked himself down in the chair across the table. They fell to talking, and two pints later, spaced out by a plate of thick, Shire ham sandwiches on Cook’s fresh bread and a dish of sweet and sour pickles, Halfred suddenly snapped his fingers in a clumsy manner, the light dawning in his eyes.

‘I almost forgot! This came for you from the Far Downs, and to there from just beyond the Tower Hills.’ He pulled out a rumpled letter, the wax on its seal cracking slightly, but still holding. A deep sea-blue, the wax bore the imprint of a six-pointed star, and his name, dashed off in a bold script, graced the front of the folded message.’

‘Well, aren’t you going to see who’s written you?’ asked the curious Hobbit, thinking back that he had never delivered a letter for the man before.

‘I know who it’s from, and I’ll read it later,’ Derufin replied, turning the Hobbit’s curiosity aside. ‘It’s getting late, let me stand you to one more pint, then I’ll fetch Dumpling for you.’ He signaled to a passing server and held up two fingers. ‘The missus will be expecting you for dinner. You wouldn’t want to be late.’

A dreamy look past over Halfred’s face as he thought of his dear wife’s stewed coney’s and her flakey herbed biscuits. He drank up quickly and was soon out the door.