[Envinyatar]

‘Oh, that is looking grand, lads!’ Derufin had just come over to where the four Hobbits were putting the siding on the cottage addition. They showed him where the shutters would be hung to each side of the window, and the flowerbox they’d already made up and painted that would hang beneath it. The four Hobbits and Derufin had just begun to discuss where might be best for the other window they’d planned to put in, when the lads had gone silent, their faces expressing alarm.

Derufin’s brow creased as Tomlin and Fallon backed quickly away from him, their eyes wide with wonder and some fear. Gil had looked from where he’d been planing the edges of a shutter, his mouth set in an ‘O!’ of surprise. It was Ferrin who’d called out the beginning of a warning . . . ‘Watch out! There’s . . .’ the lad had managed to squeak out.

A soft, familiar whicker sounded near his left shoulder. He was about to turn, seeking the source when something gave him a hard push from behind. In an instant he lay sprawled on his belly, face down in the dirt. An inquiring snort near his cheek, and the almost chortling nicker near his ear brought him up to his knees . . . face to face with the great grey horse now nuzzling his hair with affection.

‘Falmar!’ he rasped out, spitting the dust from his mouth. Derufin wrapped his fingers in the horse’s mane and pulled himself up to a standing position. ‘What are you doing here, girl?’ He wiped the grime from off his face with the tail of his shirt and ran his hands quickly over the horse. She seemed fine . . . no cuts, scrapes, bumps, or sore spots. Unlike me, he thought with a grimace.

The Hobbits, reassured by friendly interchange of man and beast, drew up near ‘Falmar, their hands reaching up to touch the silvered grey of her coat. She lowered her head, inviting them to scratch between her ears. With an unexpected expression of appreciation, she sent Gil flying on his backside as she nuzzled him on his chest. The other three laughed at his discomfiture, while Derufin offered the lad a hand up, saying it was obvious the horse liked him. Gil hmmph’d at the display of affection, wondering all the while what would happen to one whom the horse took a disliking.

‘We’ve work yet to do, my friend,’ Derufin said as he led the horse to a small pen near the cottage. Stay here for now until I can see to you.’ ‘Falmar acquiesced with a nod of her head, and began working on the tender shoots of grass and clover she found carpeting the enclosure. Tomlin and Fallon brought over a bucket for her, filled to the brim with clear, cold water from the well. And Gil, Derufin noted with a grin from his vantage point on the roof, sneaked over when he thought no one was looking and offered the grey beast an apple from his vest pocket.

The man and Hobbits returned to their work . . . and ‘Falmar was content to nicker loudly at them on occasion when she thought they needed the benefit of her opinion.