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piosenniel · 01-12-2004, 04:31 PM

dragoneyes' post

Hob Bolger was sitting on the step outside the back door of his house. The snow was falling gently around him and on him. He pulled his coat tighter around him. It was a fine fur-lined green coat, which he thought must have been exspensive, but had never found out as he had recieved it on his father's birthday and so of course couldn't be told the price. Now he was glad for it. He hated sitting inside only being able to hear his mother's coughs and it made outside that little more bareable, even though his ears were still aching with the cold.

As he sat, he thought over the past few days. How was it that he'd come to find himself enrolled on a trip from his home to Rivendell? He remembered meetings with other hobbits, Tom Bracegirdle stood out in his mind as the one who had planned it all, but it was his father that had sent him away from his warm house and bare larder to set out on a quest away from everything he'd ever known to the hopefully fuller larders of the Elves.

Hob stood from his familiar position, shaking the snow from where it had settled all about him. He hated the cold with all his heart for what it had taken from him, but it was time like these, when his stomach wasn't grumbling and he could see no sign of sickness, that he forgave it. He opened his door, best to get packing now, he didn't want to forget anything, as his father kept reminding him. He smiled, how his father was fussing all over him, truely proud and yet at the same time worrying. As if he were taking over the job of his mother. He heard a cough and the smile was wiped from his face. He stepped inside the house and stamped the snow off his feet. He glared back outside at the frosty scene, it was just an innocent-looking facade and underneath he saw the cold for being the sinister climate it really was and slammed the door shut behind him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:21 PM January 17, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

01-12-2004, 04:31 PM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,816	dragoneyes' post Hob Bolger was sitting on the step outside the back door of his house. The snow was falling gently around him and on him. He pulled his coat tighter around him. It was a fine fur-lined green coat, which he thought must have been exspensive, but had never found out as he had recieved it on his father's birthday and so of course couldn't be told the price. Now he was glad for it. He hated sitting inside only being able to hear his mother's coughs and it made outside that little more bareable, even though his ears were still aching with the cold. As he sat, he thought over the past few days. How was it that he'd come to find himself enrolled on a trip from his home to Rivendell? He remembered meetings with other hobbits, Tom Bracegirdle stood out in his mind as the one who had planned it all, but it was his father that had sent him away from his warm house and bare larder to set out on a quest away from everything he'd ever known to the hopefully fuller larders of the Elves. Hob stood from his familiar position, shaking the snow from where it had settled all about him. He hated the cold with all his heart for what it had taken from him, but it was time like these, when his stomach wasn't grumbling and he could see no sign of sickness, that he forgave it. He opened his door, best to get packing now, he didn't want to forget anything, as his father kept reminding him. He smiled, how his father was fussing all over him, truely proud and yet at the same time worrying. As if he were taking over the job of his mother. He heard a cough and the smile was wiped from his face. He stepped inside the house and stamped the snow off his feet. He glared back outside at the frosty scene, it was just an innocent-looking facade and underneath he saw the cold for being the sinister climate it really was and slammed the door shut behind him. <font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:21 PM January 17, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.