On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry woke with the scent of almost-dank, moist earth in her nose. As she moved, fronds of ferns sprinkled her with rainwater. They and the grasses had sheltered her somewhat from the rain so she was relatively dry. Her blanket would need an airing, though, before being packed away. She could feel the moisture rising into the air as the sun warmed the ground.

Getting up, she looked around at her companions and was surprised to see a new one, a young Hobbit with a pony, talking to the one who called herself Birdland, or Birdie for short. Olorin the oliphaunt was eyeing the wraith's horse curiously.

It was time for breakfast. Bethberry stretched and then threw some coffee beans into the kettle of boiling water on the fire, still steaming and hissing with rain water evaporating. They were lucky the fire had caught.

Then she went to hang her blanket on a tree branch and see who this new arrival was.