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Penny
My goodness! thought Penny, watching the little scene play out between the man she’d loaned her little stick of charcoal to and the Hobbit fellow who seemed, at least in her thought, to be a bit prickly . . . and loud!
‘I don’t know about you, Mr. Burrower,’ she whispered quietly across the table to the old gaffer. ‘But things seem to be getting a bit unsettled around here.’ She nodded toward the man and the Hobbit. ‘I think I’ll just go find my Auntie Iris and see if she needs any help.
Penny pushed her chair away from the table as unobtrusively as she could and made her way to the kitchen. A stocky built Hobbit fellow came through the door, nearly knocking her down as she hurried through the entryway. ‘Scuse me,’ she said, easing her way around him.
And there was Aunt Iris, standing in the middle of the kitchen, frowning . . .
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