[Firefoot]

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” answered Sondo. “I guess I’m just getting tired is all.” To a casual listener his tone would have sounded nonchalant, but Sondo knew that there was almost no way that Falco could have missed the terse edge. Sondo had not missed the subtle jab, and he did not appreciate it. Falco was getting a tad too pushy.

“It is pretty late,” allowed Falco. Sondo snuck a glance sideways, wondering just what Falco was thinking. For as bad as things were going, Falco was entirely too cheerful. Sondo began mentally drawing up his guard, not showing it just yet but preparing for trouble.

“I wonder where they all are,” commented Sondo as they walked. “It’ll be near impossible to find them in this dark - we could very well walk within ten feet of someone else and not even see them. Even a bit of moon light would help.” He immediately regretted the words; it would be the perfect opening for another one of Falco’s criticisms, since the other hobbit so obviously held him responsible.

“Maybe so,” answered Falco. “Perhaps we should put off this search until morning, then? That’s probably why we haven’t seen any of them - they’ve all taken a rest.” Sondo realized that Falco wasn’t looking to pick a fight just yet - he had made his point and position clear, and left Sondo with that. A frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Was Falco hinting at something? First his warning of mutiny, and now a subtle hint that he wasn’t doing his job? Sondo felt paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the premonition.

“That makes sense,” he answered, much more easily than he felt. “We could probably find some patch of dry ground to sleep on - under a large tree or something.”

Falco squinted. “Like that one? I bet it’s big enough to be dry underneath.” They headed over to the tree, and if it wasn’t entirely dry, it wasn’t a muddy mess like most of the ground. Sondo yawned. Now that his frenzied swim and mad rush upstream were long over, his exhaustion was catching up to him.

“This’ll do,” he said, plunking down into a nook between two protruding roots, and Falco settled in similarly. Sondo was asleep in no time at all.

~*~*~*~

He awoke groggily a few hours later. His shoulders were sore, his legs felt stiff, and there was a knot in his back where he had slept on a bump. His clothes were rumpled and caked with dry mud. The previous night’s events came crashing back with astonishing clarity. He groaned softly, waking Falco, who without opening his eyes mumbled, “What time is it?”

“Early,” answered Sondo, nearly unintelligible. A rim of pink colored the dark blue sky, heralding a clear day to come. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Time to go find the others.” He rose slowly, testing his aching body. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to get some of the stiffness out. It hardly worked, but he was hardly about to go making a big show of it. Falco appeared not to be having the same problems, Sondo noticed enviously. Some hobbits had all the luck.

He heard his stomach growl, and realized that he was positively starving. Happily he recalled the apple in his pocket, and pulled it out. It was amazingly shiny, if slightly bruised, and Sondo would have eagerly devoured the whole thing... if not for Falco. Not so joyously he unsheathed his small knife and cut the apple neatly in two, careful not to cut himself though it was difficult without a good surface. He offered half to Falco, who accepted. They munched as they walked, heading first toward the river. Rather than sate his hunger, the apple only enhanced it and Sondo wished that all the food had not washed away. Luckily (in Sondo’s opinion), the apple took away the need for conversation during the short trek.

Upon reaching the river, they looked about hopefully for signs of other hobbits or the wrecked raft. They saw nothing, and after a short deliberation they agreed that the best way to go would be to travel along the river bank in hopes of finding something. They debated the direction; Sondo thought they should head north since he had travelled upstream last night and seen no one, but Falco thought that south would be better since, according to him, the raft had crashed pretty close to here and if they went very far they would be past the site of the crash and everyone ought to be downstream of that. It was not quite an argument, but Sondo did not think that it boded well for the day. In the end, they did not actually decide because both heard an unmistakable sound: laughing. The sound seemed fairly distant, but obviously it couldn’t be too far away. They hurried off in that general direction, and both noticed but did not comment upon the fact that it was a rather southerly direction.

After going a little way, they paused. Why hadn’t they found whoever it was by now? Had they missed the direction by so much? There was more light now, even if the sun was not quite up, and Sondo thought they should have seem someone. Falco, apparently thinking the same thing, said as much.

“I know,” said Sondo in simple agreement. These sentiments meant more than they realized, though, for someone had heard their voices.

“Sondo, Falco, we’re over here!” Sondo recognized the voice an instant before the lad appeared.

“Reggie! Who are you with?” Sondo asked as he and Falco approached. Thank goodness they had found someone!