[Noinkling]

The grin on his face was so wide at Cook’s plan that it nearly split his face in two. Several of the Small Folk nearby moved further away, he noted, with looks of alarm on their faces. They were somewhat assured when he closed his mouth and nodded in a friendly manner toward Cook and them.

It was indeed his great grin that had sent a mild chill through them. His teeth were large, though not overly so for his size, and his great sharp canines seemed particularly wicked to them as they flashed in the revealing smile. One of them whispered to his companions that it reminded him of the bear head he’d seen mounted in the Common Room in Bree’s Inn. ‘The monster set upon the lambs of one of the Bree farmers near Archet. Spring it was. The snow hardly off the ground. A number of those from the surrounding farms gathered together to take care of the problem,’ he said, eyeing Benat quickly. ‘Killed a couple of them with his mighty paws,’ he went on. ‘The got the beast, though.’ He was about to make further comment when a low grumble . . . no, more of a warning growl intruded on his story. The hair on the back of the Hobbit’s neck stood up, and he eased his gaze toward the source of the sound. Benat was giving him a considering look and his large dog had come to stand by his master’s chair and was looking pointedly at the now quaking Hobbit. The little fellow excused himself with some quavering excuse that he had things to see to, as did his tablemates, who hurried out the door without looking back.

Benat turned his attention back to Cook, being careful not to grin too widely again. ‘That is a most generous offer on your part, Mistress Bunce. And I would gladly take you up on it.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I feel as if I owe you something for your kindness. Something beyond the price of a room and meals. Is there some task I can set my hand to that would help out here at the Inn?’