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Falco passed into the kitchen and snitched a roll on is way through, his quiet feet almost escaping the notice of the cooks before he was through the door. "Rascal!" Frodides cried at his fleeing back. But before him were other words in a different tone.
"Why can't it be the way it was before?" It was young Garmund.
"Why can't what be?" Falco interrupted, as if the conversation was his by right to intervene into. Lucky for him he was a hobbit, for Garmund seemed to find it easy enough to talk to someone of his own height, even if he was an adult. Besides, he had already been out with it once, or so it seemed, so Falco was all ears as he made quick work of his snitched roll.
"My sis used to play with me. Now she always plays with Cnebba instead."
Falco knew what was up right away. Such things were not reserved for children; they happened among full growns as well, at least back in the Shire they did as much as not, and probably more than most places as far as he could tell.
"Tell you what," he said conspiratorially to both Garmund and Thornden as he lit up his pipe. "Why don't we have our own fun, us three? We can have so much fun they'll want to stop what they're doing and join in on ours! What do you think about that?"
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