Poppy mused while doing the gentle stretches that Bethberry recommended. Oh, how annoying it was to remain here on the ground, not allowed to move, when all her heart really desired was to be on the road, going to Castle Maladil. Flitting about from one place to the next was almost all she had known for the past few years, although granted, it was by her own choice. She felt restless, just lying here.
She noticed her pack lying only a little way away, and leaning over, she pulled it to her. Opening it carefully, she brought out her pipe and some Longbottom Leaf, not the best, but it would do. Filling her small wooden pipe, and lighting it carefully, she sat and smoked in peace.
She laughed quietly to herself. So far, she had done little on this journey. Falling down a hole on the first day, spending the rest of the time immobile… she hoped soon to have a more interesting role to play in the group. She knew that this particular hobbit was not suited to sitting around!
She paused her pastime of blowing soft grey smoke rings up into the air, watching them float away into the clouds, when Gandalf spoke. Upon hearing that they would be leaving soon (at which her heart rose) and that she may have a bigger part to play on arrival, her spirits became less despondent. She was particularly intrigued on hearing that she was to learn the elvish letters for Laureondo and awaited this with anticipation.
[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo
"Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn
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