[Firefoot]

As each hobbit trickled into their camp, each helped himself (or herself) to the biscuits, dried fruit, and roasted meat. For the first time since the raft had crashed, they were able to eat until they were full, and everyone was finally able to sit back contentedly. It was at this point when Bingo voiced his opinion that something ought to be done with the Big Folk’s bodies.

Sondo nodded thoughtfully. Even if they were ruffians, it really wasn’t right to just leave their bodies to rot. “I think we should be able to burn them,” he agreed. The others nodded or voiced their agreement. “We better hurry, though,” he added, glancing toward the westering sun. “It will be dark soon.” So they set out to gather the bodies together so that they could be burned, bringing with them a burning branch from their campfire so they would not have to light another fire. Sondo realized that Falco would not be able to help. He stayed behind a moment and told Falco, “It’s all right if you stay here; I understand. You can watch the fire or something. If you want, you could get an inventory of what supplies we have.” They he hurried off after the others before Falco could respond.

The hobbits had already started to move the two Big Folk closest to their camp together. The men were quite large and heavy, and several hobbits were needed just to drag one.

“You know, those other three Big Folk are laying way over there,” observed Reggie. “It might be easier if we were to burn them in two piles, rather than drag those three all the way over here.”

“The fires would be smaller, too,” someone chipped in. The proposition made sense, and so it was decided that they would build two smaller fires. Soon they had piled the Big Folk accordingly, and it was time to light the fires. Certainly it was nothing fancy; Sondo figured they were doing enough in burning the bodies, and that they didn’t need to give them a real funeral. To make sure the fires did not get out of control, the hobbits kept their eyes on them, but from a distance as the smell of burning flesh and cloth was hardly pleasant.

The short trek back to camp was mostly quiet. The sun had set, leaving the world in a dim twilight. Once they returned, some stayed up and talked for a while, but slowly they all turned in for the night. It had been a long day for all of them.

~*~*~*~

Sondo awoke the next morning just as the sun’s first rays crested the horizon. He didn’t get up right away, but laid in place for a while listening to the birds sing and watching the sky slowly turning bluer. When he heard some of the others rustling around a bit, he rose and prodded at the fire with a stick. It hadn’t gone out, but only a few hot embers remained. He figured they could eat what meat they had left over from last night, so they wouldn’t need to use the fire again this morning. He did nothing to revive the fire and joined a few of the others who were digging some breakfast out of the packs. They ate a good meal, though they didn’t stuff themselves again as they had last night. The food still had to last until they got home, so it was back to travel rations.

Once everyone was up and had eaten, they had to figure out how they were going to carry their new supplies. There were very few packs among them, but those they stuffed and agreed to switch off carrying them. The rest of the supplies were folded up inside the blankets again and rigged up so that one person could carry each with reasonable ease. Then they were ready to set out.

Fortunately, Falco’s legs were feeling better this morning, as near as Sondo could tell. He had asked, and Falco had shrugged and made a noncommital sound. “Well, if you’re getting tired again, say something,” Sondo had replied and left it at that. Falco’s attitude was irking him again, and he paid little more attention to the other lad.

They had barely been walking for an hour when a dark line appeared across the horizon. As they drew closer, they realized that there could be no doubt: this was the Old Forest. This revelation was met with varying reactions. On one hand, it meant they were getting close to home. However... the Old Forest was a bad place. Sondo had heard stories, many of which he doubted were true, but the stories had to come from somewhere. Something was wrong with those trees, and nothing else lived there. Yes, the Old Forest was a dark place, and, stories being true or not, Sondo feared the place like he feared little else.

“Well, I guess we start heading more west, now,” mentioned Sondo during their lunch break. “Right now we’re just heading straight for the forest. Maybe we’ll even find the Brandywine again.” So after lunch they traded off packs and set off toward the northwest. Sondo intentionally set a slower pace than what they had been travelling in former days for Falco, who still had not complained but seemed to be getting more worn out again. Sondo soon forgot about Falco, however, as he noticed a slight change in the landscape. It was subtle, but the farther north they got the odder the shift seemed to him. It was almost as if the land was shaped so that it would be easier to go due north. Sondo tried to throw it off as the Forest playing tricks on his mind, but instead he became more and more convinced. For example, the slight rise and fall of the land was such that the land seemed almost furrowed, like a giant rake had been run over the earth. It was not enough to inhibit their travel, really, but confused him nonetheless.

He decided it was too much to ignore when they finally crossed what was tall enough to be considered a low hill. He glanced back at the hobbits, his gaze landing on Bingo. Bingo had always seemed fair knowledgeable about the land and such, and Sondo didn’t think he would call him crazy either. He dropped back and fell into step with Bingo.

He asked softly, “Bingo, does there seem to be anything... strange about the land around here to you?”