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"Well that's mighty fine news," Falco Boffin said around a mouthful of egg and bread. "I have a bit of my own." He continued chewing, slowly, as the others' talk died away in anticipation. It seemed like it took him a long time to finish chewing his mouthful (it was a big one admittedly - the mouthful, that is, although the mouth wasn't all that small for a hobbit, as such things go). Finally he swallowed.
"Well?" prodded Eodwine. "What's your news?"
"A moment." Falco took up his mug of hot tea and sipped at it a couple of times. "One must clear the pipes proper, o' course." He sipped some more.
Eodwine grinned. The hobbit was savoring the attention.
Finally Falco let out a sigh of satisfaction and lifted up his fork again, ready for another mouthful.
"The news?" prompted Eodwine again.
"What?" Falco's fork hung in mid-descent, his face caught in an expression of confusion, which cleared at once. "Oh! The news. Right."
He set down his fork and stood up and harumphed a big "eh hem". "My friends," he said. "I have greatly enjoyed the company of all of you, but I feel that I have spent enough time in Rohan, and I can hear the road calling me back to the Shire." Eodwine could see Falco's right hand fiddling with something in his pocket. "It is time for me to be going. Now. Well, today at any rate."
"Well, that is sad news, I'm sure, Falco. But I'm curious. What have you got in your pocket?"
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