[Angry Brandybuck]

Angry watched as Crystal went over to help the poor woman who had been taken ill. He didn't follow her over, however, because he knew he would be no help. Just as my old man always says, 'Too many cooks, spoil the hot pot'

Healing had never been a skill that he had possessed. Actually, he could never remember having any particular skills. He certainly was no cabinet maker, his father had made that quite obvious. What was he going to do for the rest of his life? He couldn't go on like this. His parents had told him that they would stop giving him the support that he lived off in one years time, unless he found a trade.

All he wanted to do, though, was sing and make music; not something that could support a young hobbit like himself and put regular meals on the table. He stared at the Hamfasts at their table and wondered about the husbands the girls would end up with, and whether he would ever be 'blessed' with children.

Idly, he reached for his pipe and weed but found that his pouch was empty, he had finished it earlier in the evening. That had been his last bit of leaf.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:59 PM January 24, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]