Sailing Away RPG

[Crystal Heart]

Sam wandered over to Sondo and looked around helplessly. He wanted to help, but ever since the boat he felt a little out of place in the group. He knew he was the one that caused it and of course that brought slight anger, at himself of course not others, but it was still there. He didn't want to bring any more undo pain to his fellow journeysmen. He only hoped to help.

He walked over and tapped Sondo on the shoulder, nervous at what he was about to ask. He didn't want to make Sondo any more mad at him.

"Sondo is there anything that I can help with? I would like to be a productive member of the gang instead of destructive one," Sam said as he looked down at his hands. He only wished he had something better say to Sondo.

Since the raft had tipped he couldn't look Sondo in the eye. He wasn't sure exactly why, but that was how he felt. He felt so ashamed of what he had done and never before had he felt that emotion before in his life.

He stood, waiting for Sondo to respond.

[Firefoot]

Sondo raised his eyebrows skeptically. He could not help but take a rather cynical approach to Sam's seemingly heartfelt offer - he had known the other hobbit too long. It seemed that it would take a lot more than a raft tip to change Sam's attitude, but if it was so, Sondo supposed he ought to have dumped Sam in the river a long time ago.

He shrugged in response, though Sam didn't see it because of his steady gaze at his feet. "Listen, Sam," said Sondo. "If this is about the raft, forget about it, okay? It's done with, and everyone's fine." Sam peeked at Sondo's face before returning his sight downward and answering, "I just want to help out."

Sondo took a deep breath. "Well, there's not a whole lot to be done right now. Tonight I suppose you could help cook the turtles that Bingo and Sassy caught earlier, if you want. I'm sure there'll be something you can do."

"I'm not much of a cook," mumbled Sam. "But I'll try, if that's what you think." This amused Sondo somewhat, since Sam was always the one who ate the most, but it also annoyed him that Sam was acting so... servant-like.

"Lighten up, Sam!" exclaimed Sondo. In some ways he found dealing with the grumpy Sam easier than the too-courteous one. "Just do what you can. If all you do is be friendly to everyone, that'll help some. It's an adventure, Sam; you're supposed to have fun!"

"Well, all right," answered Sam, not seeming entirely convinced. Sondo just sighed; some hobbits were beyond his comprehension.

The rest of the afternoon continued mostly without mishap. He had been worried for a few moments when the raft encountered some mini-rapids caused by a few sharp boulders at the bottom of the river and a slight drop in the landscape. The raft weathered the rougher water surprisingly well, and after having some experience earlier at manipulating the raft around rocks, the hobbits were well-prepared to deal with it. The slight increase of speed just before hand was exhilarating, and excitement erased any fear that they might not make it through, which they did without a hitch. Soon after this light started to fade and the lads began to look for a place to stop for the night.

Now that they had the long wooden poles, they did not need to worry about lassoing a tree or oddly-shaped rock which made maneuvering the raft to shore much easier. A likely spot was found in a grassy dell between two steep hills. They unloaded their supplies and started a fire, which was harder than it had been the previous night since this more hilly region was only sparsely wooded. They also tried to avoid using fresh branches because they smoked more. Then they began the cheerful task of cooking turtle stew. After several very similar meals, it seemed a feast. Two lads who were more skilled at recognizing tasty herbs brought back seasoning for the stew while others helped prepare the actual turtles. Sam seemed happy to be actually aiding in the process. Every time Sondo had seen him before, he had appeared to be trying very hard to enjoy himself, a purpose defeating itself in the effort it took. Sassy was fitting in better, now that the lads had gotten used to her presence.

When they finally sat down to enjoy their collaborative project of delicious turtle stew, everyone was tired but jovial. Sondo tried to savor each mouthful but found that his portion of the stew was gone only too quickly. It filled him to the brim, but had more been offered he would have taken it in a heartbeat. The others felt much the same way, resulting in another wash of praise for Bingo's, and more reluctantly, Sassy's, catches. When they finally settled down for the night, Sondo's last musings were of how thoroughly pleased he was with the way all had gone throughout the day and hopes for many more days like it. Little did he know, all was about to change.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo pulled the blanket over his head and rolled onto his stomach, vainly trying to screen out the sunlight and catch a few more minutes of rest. He had slept fitfully the night before. For several hours, he had flipped from side to side unable to sleep, listening to the incessant hooting of a nearby screech owl and trying to wriggle free of a twisted tree root that kept poking up from underneath his mat and jabbing him in the back. He had even tried moving to another spot, one that was closer to the other lads. But that had not proven to be helpful. One of the hobbits was snoring so loudly that Bingo had to plug his ears with his fingers until he could finally fall asleep.

Reluctantly, Bingo pried open an eye and sat up, scanning the length of the camp. He was surprized to note that no one else was awake. With a groan, he sprang to his feet. From the look of the horizon and the racket the birds were making in the overhead trees, the morning was already well advanced. It was long past the hour when they should have finished their breakfast, returned to the raft, and resumed their journey down river. Adventuring, Bingo reflected, was not always as easy as it sounded in the old tales. There, no one ever overslept!

Bingo scrambled over to where his brother was sleeping and jabbed him in the ribs, "Wake up, Reggie! We've overslept."

Then he started hollering and yelling to wake up the others, all the while ruefully thinking that this was not a very auspicious omen for the third day of their trip.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy was having the most delicious dream. It was evening, just last evening to be exact, and everyone was sitting around the little fire eating the turtle soup. The soup itself was delicious. But even better was that one of the boys had made room for her to sit in the circle around the campfire. And she had told a joke some of her friends had going round and the boys had laughed. Quite pleased with herself, Sassy rolled over, hoping the dream would go a little further.

Instead a loud voice intruded on her. ‘Wake up! We’ve overslept!’

She scrambled out of her bedroll and stood up to see the source of the noise. It was Bingo! Sassy blinked in the already bright sunshine and hurried to gather her things together. She tucked her shirt into her breeches and pushed back her messy curls – a comb or brush had not been on her list of essential items.

Once her pack and blanket was stowed on the raft, she ran back to the boys’ part of the camp to see how she could help. A burlap bag of apples had been left out and she took one to munch on. She passed it round as the boys gathered their belongings and began loading them on the raft.

From the looks of things, she thought, it might be all the breakfast they got.

[Encaitare]

"Wake up, Reggie! We've overslept."

From his little realm of total safety and comfort, Reggie wished his brother would shut up and let him sleep just a bit longer. He meant to tell him so, too, but didn't really feel like spending the energy on something that was likely to make Bingo angry. Yet he moved plenty quickly when Bingo began poking him in the side.

"All right, alright, Aunt Hilda. I'm getting up!" Reggie grumbled good-naturedly. Bingo went to go rouse the others, shaking his head slightly at the younger hobbit. Reggie smoothed his rumpled clothes, and then shook out and rolled up his blanket, wondering what was for breakfast. Apples, as it would seem -- hardly a hearty meal, but a tasty one all the same. He crunched into a tart, juicy apple as he helped the others load everything back onto the raft.

When everything was tied down or balanced to their satisfaction, Sondo declared that they could be off. Rory and Marroc pushed the raft off the bank with two long poles, and soon they were moving at a fair speed. Reggie laid down on his stomach, careful not to upset the raft's balance. There was no need to repeat their previous capsizing. He peered over the edge into the water, watching silver-scaled fish of all sizes swimming beneath the surface. The water at the raft's edges swirled vigorously. The river had risen a little, Bingo had told him, and that was why they had been moving faster yesterday. Reggie had thought it had been quite exciting, even better than the swing he and his cousins played on. You could fly through the air upon it, and feel the wind rushing past your face. It made him a little dizzy sometimes, but he didn't mind it. But the feeling on the raft was even more fun. There was no rope to hold you to one place if you didn't want it, and there was no Aunt Hilda to tell you when to stop playing and come inside. Instead there were adventures, and friends, and freedom.

[Boromir88]

Rory slipped off into a dreamless slumber. It wasn't long until he felt someone shaking him. "Wake up! We overslept!" Rory stirred, licked his lips, and turned over. "Wake up! Wake up! We got to go!" Rory still didn't wake. Soon Rory felt a splash of cool water down his back. He jumped up, clearly awake now. Rory saw it was Bingo.

"Jeez, not only are you a snorer, but hard to wake up!" he said half friendly, half irritably.

"I snore?" Rory looked puzzled.

"Yes! It was practically all night. Get something to eat, and eat it fast so we can get going."

Rory didn't respond, he just walked towards the food. He still wasn't totally awake yet. If Rory was snoring that ment he was in a deep sleep, and very hard to get up. His mother would always send his younger brothers to wake him, and would let them use any means at their disposal.

He didn't have time to sit and eat. Mostly everyone was done with their apple, or nearly done. Sondo shouted over to Rory, "Since you were the last one up, you can go get the raft ready. We are leaving soon." Rory grumbled, but thought it was only fair. "Well," he said talking to his apple, "I guess you'll just have to wait." He jammed it into his pockets. Marroc came by and gave Rory a hand, and Rory thanked him. Soon they were off again...Rory hoped it wasn't as boring as yesterday.

[Kitanna]

Marroc was having a delightful dream about his mother's mashed taters when some started shaking him. "Wake up! Wake up! We got to go!"

"Go? Go where?" Then Marroc remembered he wasn't at home. He was on an adventure. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking the morning world into focus. He ate a quick breakfast of apples with the others. It wasn't the breakfast he would have liked, espicially after the dream he just had, but he couldn't complain.

When it was time to head off Rory was given the job of pushing off the raft. Marroc went over to help him. Once they were floating down the river Marroc took a seat my Sassy. He had no real intention of talking to her.

He looked around and thought Reggie had the right idea of justing laying on his stomach watching the water. Marroc must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Reggie and Sondo had caught a whole mess of fish.

The young Hobbit looked up and saw storm clouds moving in. He hoped Sondo planned to get off the raft before the storm started. Marroc could think of nothing worse then being stuck on the river in a rainstorm.

[Firefoot]

Sondo couldn't believe what a late start they had gotten. Had they all really overslept? He knew that he had been in deep sleep - he had been scared out of his wits when Bingo started yelling for everyone to get up. They were on their way now, though, so that was good. They certainly wouldn't be stopping for lunch today! No, they would have to eat on the raft.

In the frenzied activity preceding their departure, Sondo had noticed very little except the task immediately at hand: getting moving. Now, however, there was little to do and Sondo realized that while it had been clear yesterday, today the sky was full of large, fluffy looking clouds, and some dark, ominous-looking thunderclouds loomed on the western horizon. He hoped there would not be a thunderstorm; not only would the weather be miserable, but they would also probably have to stop if the river got too wild. They had tipped once, in calm water, no less, and already the current was swifter than when they had started out. It was a recipe for disaster, but Sondo cockily dismissed the threat figuring that they could work through it like they had the rock jams and rapids. They were working together now, and the hobbits were all getting along fine; in fact, despite the late start, no one seemed to be in a particularly bad mood.

He saw Reggie laying on his stomach at the edge of the raft, apparently watching something with interest. He was alone, and Sondo had nothing else to do, so he approached and asked about it.

"Oh," he said vaguely, "the water, the fish." Perhaps it was a light in his eyes or the way he said it, but Sondo could sense Reggie's excitement, and Sondo was genuinely glad he had let the hobbit come along.

"Maybe we should try to catch some," suggested Sondo. If it was going to rain, at least they could have some fresh meat later on. Reggie was agreeable, and Sondo dug some hooks and line out of their supply stock. As he was doing so, it began to drizzle lightly. As long as he was at it, Sondo supposed he should get out some cloaks as well, in case it started raining harder. Someone groaned about the weather acting up, but Sondo didn't mind the light rain. It smelled good, all fresh and damp. As long as it didn't start pouring, he would be fine.

He sat down next to Reggie and handed him the fishing supplies. They chatted amiably, generally getting to know each other and forgetting for a while the light but persistant rain. The fish were really biting, and the pair ended up throwing back some fish that might otherwise be considered nice-sized. Most of the fish they kept were nice, fat silvery trout.

"It's the rain," said a knowledgeable, but not snobby, voice behind them. Sondo turned and found it to be Rory. "It brings them to the surface." Sondo nodded, recalling the fact.

"Whatever it is, it's working," Sondo grinned. They now had enough fish for everyone to eat their fill, and he and Reggie reluctantly put away their tackle. The fish, which they had stuck into Bingo's turtle net for lack of a better container, were also put away with the food supplies until they could prepare them to eat. Now, without the pleasant distraction, Sondo realized that a brisk breeze had stirred up, making the damp seem chillier. The dark clouds had moved closer, now, and Sondo feared that the storm was inevitable. The odd part was that through the incomplete cloud cover, the sun was still visible if not warming, and they went through alternating periods of sun and shade mixed with the determined rainfall. He only hoped it didn't turn absolutely miserable. The sun had not even reached its zenith yet, and Sondo could only reason that they would have to wait till lunch to decide what ought to be done.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo sat cross legged on the raft, miserably huddled in a tight ball. They had been travelling for several hours, and the weather was no better. If anything, the rainfall was coming more frequently and could no longer be described as light drizzle. The optimism of the early morning slowly eroded as sheets of rain continued to fall and the sun disappeared behind an ominous bank of grey clouds.

Bingo had initially pulled the woolen cape around his shoulders and tugged its hood over his head in a vain attempt to ward off the worst of the rain. But after several hours travelling down river, his cape was drenched and offered little protection. Worst of all the wind seemed to be picking up and the current was running faster, with the raft bobbing crazily in the water. The combination was not good. Bingo sat shivering in the front of the raft, with water dripping off the end of his nose. He wondered if Sondo would call a halt for lunch. Not that he felt much like eating. But he would give a great deal to have steady ground underneath his feet. His breakfast apple had been no more than half-ripe and was still bouncing inside his stomach. As the raft lurched forward, its front edge tilting up and down, Bingo suddenly felt very queasy and light headed.

Turning to the companion next to him, he groaned, "I think I'm going to be seasick."

The other hobbit eyed him warily, "Seasick? You can't be 'seasick' in a river. And I thought you'd been on boats before!"

"Yes, but never in rain and wind like this with the raft going up and down. Maybe you're not supposed to get seasick on rivers, but my stomach feels awfully funny."

Bingo's face was taut and tinged with a sickly greenish hue. He was becoming desperate. "Excuse me please," he cried out to anyone who would listen. "Do you think we might stop for lunch and take some shelter from this rain. Anyways, if we don't stop soon, I think I am going to be sick......"

[Primrose Bolger]

Primrose Bolger's post

What had started out as an inconvenient day had now turned nearly intolerable. She’d huddled under her cloak when the drizzle had started and moved on to pulling up her hood when the rain had begun to fall hard. Sassy had kept her turtle’s top shell – she’d scoured it with sand at the river bank and rinsed it thoroughly. Now she popped it on top of her hood like a rain hat, a length of twine securing it on her head. Several of the boys had laughed at her when she’d put it on, but at the moment she just didn’t care. It kept her head warm and dry and the rain from her eyes.

Despite the cold and rain, her tummy had begun to protest its empty state. Her eyes went frequently to Sondo, wishing at first he would say it was lunchtime, then wishing he would say it was lunchtime and time to take cover from the rain. And now she could hear Bingo complaining about his stomach, though from what she could hear he wasn’t hungry, he was about to heave up the apple he’d taken for breakfast.

‘Well maybe if I head the raft toward shore, the others will help out,’ she thought to herself. Marroc was sitting next to her, looking as miserable as everyone else. ‘Hey, give me a hand! I want some lunch and I want it under the cover of the trees on the riverbank.

Sassy got up, motioning for Marroc to come along with her. She grabbed one of the long steering poles, almost slipping on the wet slick surface of the raft. It hadn’t looked so hard when she’d seen the boys do it yesterday. She planted her feet firmly near the edge of the raft and pushed her pole against a rock she saw sticking up out of the rushing river. Behind her she could hear some of the boys yelling at her. She thought she heard ‘Stop!’ yelled several times.

But it was too late . . . the pole slipped down the side of the slick rock and got caught in whatever hidden tangle of rocks there was at the base of the big boulder. She tried to push on it then pull, but it was no use. The river was running too high and fast. It slammed her against the pole, sending the raft careening wildly. The pole snapped. Sassy fell hard on the edge of the raft causing it to rock wildly. The rest of the steering poles, which had been stacked near her clattered into the river as the raft bucked on what was normally an area of low rapids, but was now swollen with rain.

‘Oh blast!’ cried Sassy. ‘Help!’ She clung by her fingers to one of the ropes holding parts of the raft together as her small body slid back and forth on the slick surface of the raft.

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Kitanna's post

Marroc wished he had never gotten up this morning. Things just kept getting worse. He was tired, wet, and just generally miserable. He was sitting next to Sassy and he found himself jealous of the turtle shell hat she had made. Her head must be dry as a bone, he kept thinking.

Marroc tried to forget that he was wet and miserable and decided instead to focus on being hungry and miserable. He wanted to ask Sondo if it was possible to stop. It would be the smart and safe thing to do. After all poor Bingo was sick and everyone else would catch their death in this weather if they didn't seek shelter soon.

"Hey, give me a hand," Sassy's voice broke through Marroc's thoughts. "I want some lunch and I want it under the cover of the trees on the riverbank."

At this point Marroc should have used some common sense and stopped Sassy. Instead he followed her. She took up a large steering pole and Marroc helped her. They both had to work hard to kept from slipping all over the slick surface on the raft.

With the help of Marroc Sassy pushed the pole against a rock. The other lads were yelling for her to stop. Marroc let his hold on the pole loosen, another stupid move. Sassy had the pole stuck on the rocks. It snapped. Sassy hit the raft with a thud, as did Marroc. Almost, if not all, of the other steering poles, fell into the water. Marroc realized his error now. It had been stupid to try to help Sassy. He should have stopped her.

Looking up he saw she was clinging to the side of the raft. Sondo rushed to her aid and pulled her up. Everyone was safe, but for how long? With no steering poles what hope did they have of getting off the river before things got even worse? Though Marroc didn't think things could get any worse.

[Boromir88]

Despite the cold, and the contant beating of rain, Rory was in relatively high spirits compared to the other hobbits. His nose began to turn red, and his stomach began to grumble, as the apple he had in the morning hadn't been nearly enough to fill him. He was starting to think the waters were getting unsafe to travel down. Whatever Sondo had in mind for today, it's better to be safe then sorry, as my gaffer said, and we can always continue once the rain has stopped, he thought to himself.

That's when Bingo let out a shout making his thoughts heard, "Excuse me please, do you think we might stop for lunch and take some shelter from this rain. Anyways, if we don't stop soon, I think I am going to be sick......"

"There's no sense in going forward, these rapids are getting too rough." Rory chimed in. He noticed Falco began to study Sondo, as if waiting to see what he would do.

Sondo first acted like he didn't hear Bingo, nor Rory, but the grumbles began to grow and decided he had to try to convince the boys they must continue. Amongst the conversation, they lost track of the raft, and heard a bump. Sassy was trying to steer the boat towards the shore and land, the hobbits began to shout "Stop!"

"We're in treacherous rapids now. It's better to let the water carry you then fight it, as my pa used to say." Rory shouted above the growing noise of the storm. The skies began to light up with flashes, and boomed with thunder.

"What do you suppose we do then?" said Sondo. "Let the waters and rocks rip this raft apart? Or have the raft fling us into unknown territories?"

"No!" screamed Rory, "But often when trying to fight the river you could only make things worse....and with this raft already tipping in calm waters, we don't know what will happen."

Another yell was heard, but it was a girl's voice, and a cry of help. Sassy slipped and began sliding...off the raft! "Help!" Sondo knocked Rory aside and dove for his little sister. "I got you" he said in a sigh of relief, and pulled her back on board. "Are you ok?" Sassy said yes, as she stood up and brushed herself off. The rapids were only getting worse, Sondo needed to do something. "If we work together we can get this raft, and us, to the shore safely." He then looked at Rory suspicously, wondering what he was thinking. Rory didn't say anything, and he wasn't about to do anything, unless everyone was against him.

[Firefoot]

For a moment a flash of lightning lit everyone’s features. All of them were afraid to a greater or lesser extent, whether they chose to show it or not. Sailing in conditions like these was dangerous, if not downright stupid, whatever Rory might say. Truth be told, he had been about to agree to stopping before events had gone all chaotic on him, but no one had really been listening to anyone but themselves and he had lost his chance. He blamed himself, mostly, and made it his goal to see everyone through. They needed to get the raft to shore if they could. Frankly, Sondo wasn’t sure if it would be possible, with only one pole left - they could very well drown either way.

“Listen, Sassy,” he said softly, but fiercely. “Go to the center of the raft, and hold tight to something: a rope, the mast, anything, and don’t get in anyone’s way. Try to make sure the supplies don’t come loose. You’re too little to be handling the poles, and I don’t want you causing any more trouble. Got that?” He didn't wait to see if she obeyed; she was already going to be hearing it from him later. First she goes off and tries to steer the raft on her own, as if she were leader and not him, and then she loses all of their poles. He quickly took stock of the situation: some were trying to get the raft back under control, except they were working independently rather than together, and a few seemed frozen, unsure of what to do except stay on board. Sondo began to issue orders in an attempt to get everything under control.

“Reggie, take some rope and try to use that to bring us to shore. Two of you pair up on the remaining pole. Everyone else, watch for rapids and don't fall overboard. We need to work together, everyone!” Sondo found that he had some avid supporters in trying to get to shore. Those who couldn’t swim, and also Bingo who was still looking rather green around the edges. Rory reluctantly pitched in when he found the vote had seemed to sway against him. Sondo found himself working a pole with Falco. He was glad they were paired up - the wet poles were very slippery and the crashing river was treacherous. It was easy to see how Sassy, inexperienced at using the poles, had lost one.

Reggie cast out his rope a few times at large rocks or the singular trees that grew along the banks, but as a combination of ripping wind, pouring rain, and bucking waves, made several attempts without snagging anything. Finally, he called out, “I got it!” They dug in their poles, trying to curb the path of the raft. The current was too strong, however, and at that precise moment they happened upon a sequence of rapids. Sondo could tell Reggie was straining hard, and left Falco with the pole to go help. Their combined effort at the rope seemed beneficial, until with a loud snap and a sudden rush of movement, the rope snapped. They were all knocked off balance and ended up sprawling on the raft. The remaining pole was dropped into the water, though by some lucky chance none of the hobbits fell overboard. For a moment, Sondo thought the raft would tip with all of them crashing down upon it, and indeed it was already careening wildly, but the weight was evenly enough balanced that only a thin sheen of water sliced across the upside of the raft, not making much of a difference since everyone was already soaked through despite their cloaks.

Sondo had no idea what to do next. The rope which had snapped was the only rope long enough to bring the raft to shore, and they had no poles left. In a brief flash of lightning Sondo thought he caught a look of grim satisfaction on Rory’s face that he had been right, but the other hobbit didn’t say anything. By now, Bingo was not the only one looking sick as a result of the pitching river. Sondo felt queasy too, but not because of seasickness. He was scared for his life. If the other hobbits hadn’t realized it yet, they probably would soon, but Sondo feared that they might all drown. A dip in the river brought Sondo down to his knees, and he realized that standing was not a good idea.

“Everyone sit down near the center of the raft!” said Sondo. He had to yell to be heard over the noise of the storm. “We need to stay balanced. Also, grab hold of part of this rope.” (It was the end of the one which had snapped; the other end was still tied to the mast.) “No one is going to drown here! A storm like this can’t last long, and there’s nothing we can do.” The words sounded dark and ominous, but every hobbit there knew they were true. There was an air of finality to them, and for a while no one spoke. After a short while, the rumbling stomachs of those who were not sick were remembered, and the lad closest to the supplies finagled some fruit and meat out and passed the food around. It was difficult to eat on the pitching raft when the hobbits were periodically tossed about, and the effort was soon given up by most, figuring the storm would blow over soon.

Sondo was miserable. What had happened to his glorious adventure? Why didn’t the old stories ever talk about miserable weather conditions and grumbling comrades? A crack of thunder emphasized his brooding thoughts. There’s nothing we can do...

[Nurumaiel]

Was it any surprise that more misfortunes were upon them? No, it was not, Falco thought decidedly. First the raft had tipped, and now they were caught in a storm. Sondo wasn't a capable leader. He didn't care if the storm had come with Sondo's bidding. Sondo was the leader, and he was responsible. How would he feel if they all drowned? Would he like it if he drowned, if he died, and it were all his fault?

What if I became leader?

Falco started as the thought came to him, and cast a guilty look about him. Of course nobody could read his thoughts! Why should it bother him to think of it? He was always taking up leadership when Sondo failed back home. Perhaps this was different because they were on the water. Wouldn't that be mutiny?

It wouldn't be mutiny if he let Sondo stay leader, would it? What if he just formed his own expedition? The boys could go with him if they wanted, or, if they were foolish, they could go with Sondo.

But... what if that was mutiny, too?

At any rate, it was interesting to think about.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy accepted the piece of fruit and a strip of the dried meat in silence. She nodded her head at the boy who handed them to her, keeping her hood pulled well forward so that he could not see her face. Despite the chill of the day, her cheeks were blazing . . . and not from the briskness of the wind and rain. She was embarrassed; mortified that she’d gotten them into such a pickle! They were being hurtled down the river, and who knew when they would be able to maneuver toward the shore. Sassy hoped fervently both the raft and all of them wouldn’t be too banged up in the process.

‘You little wormbrain,’ she chided herself. ‘Maybe they should have left you to slip under the waves!’ Sassy chewed angrily on her meat stick as she sat huddled with the others in the middle of the raft. One hand held the raggedy, bitten piece of meat while the other held on for dear life to the rope. And that was another thing . . . Sassy loved the water, and was really quite a good swimmer. But, the fierceness of the river’s current really had frightened her when she’d almost slid into it. It had dragged at her toes, like some old boggart her Gammer had told stories about . . .the kind that liked to pull little children who wouldn’t stay in their beds into the darkness beneath and eat them boiled and mashed.

Sassy shuddered for a moment beneath her cloak, then clamped down on those sort of thoughts. She looked slyly about hoping no one had seen her acting scared. She couldn’t show she was frightened . . . boys didn’t, and well . . . she didn’t want to be laughed at. She had to be just as tough as they were.

She’d just wanted to help Bingo who had been nice to her and let her go along on the turtle hunt. She scooted carefully near him, pulling her pack off her shoulders as she reached the boy. Sassy fished in her pack, way down to the bottom, til she found the little tin she’d brought. Cook would skin her when she figured out who’d filched the candies from the cupboard.

‘Umm . . . Bingo?’ she said hesitatingly, trying to catch his attention. She opened the little tin. The candies were a little stuck together from being out in the wet weather, but she held them out toward him. ‘My Gammer makes these peppermint drops for us for sweets. She says they’re good for tummies, too. Settles ‘em right down. You want one?’ She made a little gesture as if offering them about for general use.

A little ways away from her sat that boy, Falco - the one that had cornered her brother when they first found her stowed away on the raft. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a brief look of guilt cross his face. Wonder what he's thinking! she thought to herself, eyeing him for a moment, her forehead wrinkling briefly.

************************************

Child of the 7th Age's post for Bingo

Bingo warily eyed the small tin of peppermints that Sassy was holding out in her hand. He could feel the hot stares of several of the lads, who peered at him in an offhand way, not saying a word but watching surreptitiously to see what he would do. The raft had settled down a little, and his stomach was feeling considerably better. A peppermint would be just the thing to set things back to rights again. Bingo had a bit of a sweet tooth, which he rarely had the chance to indulge. The peppermints looked awfully tempting, and Sassy somehow seemed less of a nuisance than she had done before.

Leaning over to the lass, he grinned, "Don't mind if I do....", and then reached his hand inside the box being careful to fish out only one. For one minute, he thought he heard a snicker from the back of the raft. But when Bingo shot his head around and glared, the sound immediately died. And within a few minutes, the raft had encountered a much wilder stretch of the river, and all thoughts of further investigation immediately died. Bingo hung onto the mast for dear life, hoping that the worst of the journey was behind them.

[Firefoot]

Sondo lifted his head hopefully when he realized that the time between the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder were becoming long indeed. Was the rain falling lighter, too, or was it just his imagination? Perhaps the wind was less cutting now. And maybe, that was a glimpse of sunlight through the clouds. Certainly, it was still raining and the river was rough yet, but Sondo was fairly sure the storm was over. They had made it through!

The others seemed to be perking up as they realized the same thing. Granted, they were still stranded on a raft with no decent means to get to shore, but the storm was over; surely everything would be better now. It wasn’t to say that anyone was particularly cheerful (they weren’t) for they were largely still cold, wet, and miserable, but there was a palpable mood of relief in the air.

Gripping the mast tightly for support, Sondo stood up. He wanted to get a better idea of the lay of the land than he could get sitting down. His stance on the rolling raft was shaky, but he did not show it. He stood straight, straining his eyes through the gray rain. Even drenching wet and shivering slightly from the chill, he looked every inch the leader. It was still his adventure, and his infallible optimism would not be suppressed now that the worst of it was over. Seeing him up, some of the hobbits began to move around as well, as much simply to stretch as anything else.

“Hey, there’re some more rapids coming up,” announced Sondo to everyone and no one. “Let’s see if we can get the raft over to the right side of the river more... it doesn’t look so bad over there.” Some raised their eyebrows at him, but it was Rory who asked the unspoken question: “How? Our poles and rope are gone.”

Sondo shrugged impatiently. “Well, what if we used our arms and legs to paddle over there?” No one seemed overly thrilled about getting even more wet than they already were. Seeing this, Sondo was the first to sit down on the edge and put his legs in the (cold) water. He was joined rather reluctantly, some on one side and some on the other to balance the raft.

“Now, paddle!” said Sondo. He kicked his own legs hard, and the joint effort seemed to work, at least a little bit. It did not occur to Sondo that if it hadn’t worked then they would all have been sitting at the edge of the raft while it went over the rapids and they all would have ended up going for a swim. Luckily it did work well enough, and as they drew near the rapids most instinctively withdrew their limbs in preference for the security of the middle of the raft, and the rest followed suit. It was a bit rough, but Sondo had been proven right; the right side was more sedate, and compared to some of the rapids earlier in the day the ride was fairly smooth. There was a quiet satisfaction that had not been fully disabled by the loss of steering equipment. To Sondo, it seemed that even if the hobbits weren’t as jovial as the previous day, their earlier gripes had been forgotten, even though this was not actually true.

The sun was setting and the hobbits were getting hungry again by the time anyone realized the full impact of what it was that they had accomplished earlier: they had steered the raft! They could get to shore, have a hot dinner, and get warm and dry before a fire! Someone voiced this realization jubilantly, and a bit of a cheer went up. Those who had been observant had already noticed the dark clouds which were threatening to let loose a downpour over again, and were the most relieved at this prospect. Heartened by the thought of warmth and comfort, the hobbits began to take their positions on the edge of the raft when someone cried out: “Wait!”

In their new hope, they had ceased to pay any attention to the river. Looming just ahead was another set of rapids, and they could not be all sitting on the edge going over those! So impatiently they set out to wait. Before they had even reached them, however, the storm broke loose once more. A crack of thunder came from directly overhead, and drops came fast and furious. The hobbits were nearly unprepared upon hitting the rapids, and many lost their footing, though luckily none fell overboard.

The griping that Sondo thought had been forgotten quickly returned now. No one wanted to go so close to the edge now that the waves were all but ready to come and turn the raft over! They once again had no means to get to shore, and had no way to see now that the sun had set, leaving them in utter, rainy darkness. Much of this complaining turned against Sondo, and though he tried his hardest to assuage it, he was completely unsuccessful, mostly because he was unconvinced himself. What would they do now? They had never sailed at night before, for obvious reasons. Now it was night and storming! He then felt as much as heard a rock scrape against the bottom of the raft. He could feel an alarming wave of dread rush through him, like when he reached the top limb of a tree and had no idea how to get down or was caught in the act of steeling some mushrooms and knew his Pa was going to give him a thrashing. Only this was worse. Much worse.

Everyone was jolted from their feet when the raft ran headlong into an unseen rock. Then everything seemed to be going in slow motion. A shout that he knew he should recognize was heard, and Sondo knew that someone had gone overboard. There was no time to react, though, before he heard a crash and felt the raft tipping. He was suddenly airborne, and had no way of knowing where he would land. He could hit a rock. All around there were shouts, and there was splashing all around. Then he himself felt himself submerge. He gasped; water filled his mouth. Where was the surface? It was dark - which way was up? He could not see and could not breathe. Under water was blended with above water in the pouring rain. Then, for an instant, lightning flashed and he swam upward. A thought came unbidden: no one swam in a thunderstorm - it was dangerous. He had to get to shore, but his limbs seemed heavy. He felt himself go under again, and his foot hit the bottom. He pushed off, trying to get back to the surface. How deep was the Brandywine anyway? He began to panic. He was going to drown! He thrashed his arms and legs, losing his head and forgetting what he did know about swimming in his panic. Where was everyone? Where was Sassy? She was, after all, his sister, and he felt an overwhelming need to save her as well as himself. Having a purpose calmed him some, but he still couldn’t see. What was happening?

[Child of the 7th Age]

By the end of the afternoon, Bingo was feeling considerably better. His stomach was calm, and he had regained his strength and spirits. The hobbits had even managed to work together to get through several hard stretches of the river. Bingo was relatively optomistic that they would soon find a way to maneuver the craft towards shore and settle down for food and rest before darkness fell.

However rejuvenated Bingo may have felt, his expectations soon met with a very different outcome. In the space of only a few moments, dark shadows and rain had descended like a grey iron curtain over the river, shutting out all the light and making it impossible to see. At the last moment, they had gone hurtling forward towards a huge, submerged rock, which had only a few inches of its surface visible above the water. No one on the raft, not even Sondo, had seen it.

Bingo heard a sickening noise as wood met rock. The front of the raft tilted crazily upward and then came smashing down on top of the jagged stone. Several of the logs snapped in two. It seemed as if their mighty raft was no more than a toy boat that a child might take out to play. Under the weight of the collision, one side of the raft dipped omenously low and began to sink. Water rushed in, sending luggage and supplies and all of the hobbits hurling into the water.

Everything happened so fast that Bingo had no time to prepare or be afraid. It was almost as if he was in a dream....only this time he could not wake up, no matter how hard he tried. He felt his body smack the water. It was cold, far too cold. Bingo tried to move his hands and legs to swim but they refused to obey him. He took in a mouthful of water and began to choke and gag, feeling an insistent tugging on his leg. Something was beginning to pull him down. Looking desperately around for a way to save himself, he spied a long tree branch hurtling down stream, apparently caught in a faster current in the very middle of the river. With a final gasp, he lunged forward, forced himself to grab onto the makeshift lifeboat and held on desperately as he was carried along. Looking back, he saw that his companions were still desperately floundering near the spot where the raft had capsized. They were screaming and yelling for help.

As the current slung him forward, Bingo hastily glanced back over his shoulder scanning the horizon for a glimpse of his brother. But, with the heavy grey shadows and dark moonless night, all the hobbits looked like tiny dots: it was impossible to tell one from another. The current was still too strong for Bingo to let go, even though he wanted to turn back to help. Still clinging to the branch, he made his way around a bend in the river, hanging on by the barest edge of his fingernails. All signs of the original raft and the rest of the hobbits were now totally hidden from his view.

I've got to get out of here. I must go back and find my brother. If something happens, it's all my fault. I should never have let him come. But, however desperately Bingo may have wanted to do that, he had no choice now but to continue hurling forward, trapped on his makeshift craft.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy’s hands were so cold she just couldn’t hold on to the rope any longer. Her fingers were numb and she had to think about each one as she pried it from the line. She was wet, too, and the cold from the river water that splashed over the raft as it dipped and tumbled its way down the river froze her to her marrow. One leg, in fact, was so cold, the muscles were slow to respond as she tried to shift her weight a little to a more comfortable position.

When the raft hit the rock she skidded in a wild arc across the wet slippery surface toward the eastern part of the channel. Her little body slammed hard against the root tangle of some old willow that had crept down the bank to dip into the river’s edge. For a long moment her breath was knocked out of her; then, the slapping of the water against the roots where she lay brought her back to her senses enough so that she wrapped her little arms around a root and clung on for dear life as the water flowing down the river pushed at her.

She gathered her wits and pushed herself up the slick bark on the root to where it met the trunk. Easing herself around the base of the tree she found her way to the upper part of the river bank. Her teeth were chattering, and her right cheek stung from where it had careened against the tree root and gotten scraped. It felt raw and achy and when she put her fingers up to it, they came away wet and sticky.

It was dark, the moon and stars obscured by the storm clouds. Sassy tripped and fell several times as she put distance between herself and the river. Her ears were ringing still from the blow to her head, and she couldn’t make out the voice of anyone shouting or calling. Tears of frustration and of fear welled up in the little girl’s eyes and spilled down her scratched and bloodied cheeks. She blundered finally into a low thicket of elderberry bushes mixed in with ferns. Sassy knelt down and burrowed her way beneath the loose thick covering of leaves and fronds. She was just too tired to go on. And far too cold. Her little pack was still strapped to her back, all soggy from the rain and the dip in the river. She took it off and laid her head on it as she scooped the layers of leaves over her trying to give herself some warmth. Only her little nose poked out from her leafy blanket.

Sassy had no idea where she was. She curled up in a little ball, her teeth chattering as she lay there. ‘Please let it be morning soon,’ she mumbled to herself as she shivered. ‘And please don’t let any critters sneak up on me either.’ A fitful sleep came finally to her as she huddled there, a stout little piece of wood she’d found buried beneath the leaves clenched in one hand . . . ‘just in case,’ she had told herself before she drifted off . . .

[Boromir88]

Rory's stomach was aching, as he hit the water, it felt as if all the air was pushed out of him. He remembers the storm subsiding, and everyone starting to ask about supper, when all of a sudden it struck again; een fiercer then before. The Hobbits had no choice now but to let the raging river guide them. All their poles were gone and they couldn't even dream about steering the raft with their hands and feet.

That's when the raft shattered against the boulder. It broke in half, and splintered into many pieces. Rory was catapulted into the air. As he started coming down he was heading face down towards the water. His father always said, "don't land on your belly, if you can help it." It was too late, he smacked into the roaring waves.

Rory looked at his stomach, it was beat red; probably going to leave a bruise. He wasn't hungry any more; the pain forced his mind off food. He leaned up underneath a tree, to protect himself from the rain. He was wet, cold, and aching, which ment he wasn't going to get a good rest tonight. Out of pure boredom, he began to doze off and slip into a dream....I don't know how to swim. In these waters there was no hope of swimming, no matter how strong of a hobbit you were. The water was swirling, my only hope is to stay calm and let the water lead me. I must stay above water. What was it that Pa always told me?...Paddling! It didn't get you very far, and tired you out quickly, but at least it kept you afloat. Just go along with the current....it'll land you a shore eventually. Why can't I paddle? My arms...legs...are too heavy...I'm sinking...

Rory woke with a gasp. As soon as he woke he knew his dream was just a nightmare, he didn't sink...he was still alive. Rory had tried to remember what happened after he began to slowly paddle, how did he get back to shore? His head started hurting; he couldn't remember.

He was about to doze off again when he heard a rustle. Rory jumped, with his hand on his small sword, now alert. He heard the noise again, it was not too far in front of him. He began to think of pirates. Rory heard some of the hobbits talking about pirates. About how they went sailing and searched for treasure. That's what the hobbits' adventure was supposed to be like, right? Sailing down the Brandywine and coming upon treasure. What if it was a pirate...or worse...one of those Ruffians cousin Merriadoc was talking about. He didn't like the sound of those ruffians.

Rory had no choice, he couldn't run, or atleast not far, he was too sore and weary. He pulled out his dagger, didn't know what he would do with it...if it was a ruffian. I mean he is a hobbit and these ruffians are supposed to be the size of one of those Big folks. He sucked up a deep breath of air, as the sounds began getting closer, he tried to let out a bold warning, but it came out weak and pathetic, "Who goes there?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

After what seemed like hours to Bingo, the current began to slacken. His branch veered off into a side eddy and was finally brought to a halt by a floating mass of twigs and decaying bracken. He managed to wade out of the water and scramble up the steep bank by using the tangled tree roots to give him a hand and foothold for climbing. By now, it was completely dark. Nervously, he looked up into the skies searching for any visible sign of the moon or the stars, but the dark canopy above was featureless and blank.

Since the muddy shore was too slippery for him to walk without sinking in up to his ankles, he veered off towards the east, entering the thick grove of trees and bushes that stretched along the length of the Brandywine. He had absolutely no idea where he was or at what point on the river the raft had capsized. His main thought was to get back to his brother, and he vowed not to rest until he had managed to do that. Still, he did not like the idea of walking through the woods. The one lesson that had been drummed into his head from childhood was to avoid the woods because terrible things lurked there.

Bingo was so tired that he could barely put one foot in front of the other. But, dutiful as ever, he plodded onward, struggling to keep awake and alert. Periodically, he would bump into a bush or small tree because he wasn't watching closely enough. Plus, the night was so dark that it was difficult to see anything more than a foot away. In the distance, he heard a howling. Only a farmer's dog lost in the wild, he assured himself. But at the back of his mind lurked the image of a fierce wolf, with gleeming eyes and slavering jaws. An owl hooted in a tall tree. Bingo stopped to listen feeling increasingly ill at ease.

He went over to a tree and yanked off a sturdy cudgel, both to help him navigate the uneven ground and to provide a handy weapon if any of the foreboding noises turned out to be a portent of some immediate threat. Bingo was careful to stay on the edge of the forest, close enough to the river that he could keep track of any noises coming from that direction. But, so far, there was absolutely no sign of the raft or his brother. As he trudged along, Bingo began remembering the tales Granny used to tell him: how the hobbits of Buckland had once battled the forest and imprisoned it behind a tall hedge. He remembered her speaking of moving trees that would suddenly come alive and attack without notice, swallowing up a hobbit in its twisting limbs and trunk. Bingo shuddered slightly, wishing that he was home safe in bed. Perhaps it would be better if he stopped now, and waited for the morning to come. But then he remembered Reggie, and that Granny had also told him a hobbit must be brave and push on even when things seemed hopeless.

What happened next, Bingo could never quite explain. He was blundering through a thicket of elderberry bushes and ferns, making more noise than he should have, while thinking that it would be nice if he was back at Brandy Hall, drinking a cup of elderberry tea, when suddenly he tripped over a root, or that's what it seemed like to him. Immediately, a threatening creature loomed on the path ahead of him: a shapeless mass covered with leaves and dirt. Bingo froze in alarm, thinking that this must be one of the evil tree spirits that his granny had warned him about. The only difference was that this creature was more bush-sized than tree-sized. Bingo grimaced and steeled his nerve. He did not want to be swallowed by a bush. Raising his cudgel above his head, he roared out a warning and raced forward, intending to pummel the evil bush into the ground if it did not get out of the way.

[Encaitare]

The water was cold and swift, and as he struggled to stay above the surface of the water, Reggie couldn't help thinking, Haven't I done this before? This was the second time they had all been thrown into the river, but this time it was darker and far more dangerous. The current pulled at him, as if whispering to him.

Come down here, it's so nice down here, you'll see....

He kicked his feet as best he could to counter the water's pull and tried to get a proper breath of air. He spluttered a bit as he got half a mouthful of riverwater. Moving his limbs as quickly as they would go (not terribly quickly, since the chill water was already taking its toll on him), he managed to stay afloat. In a moment of horror, he realized he was heading towards a large rock, which jutted out like a monolith in the broken surface of the river.

It was too late to do anything about it. He was able to turn so that his back hit the rock and not his face, but he still slammed into the hard stone. Yet it was a blessing unlooked for; he grabbed at the rock with stiff hands and held on for dear life as the angry river churned about him. His breath was knocked out of him by the collision, but he slowly recovered it and looked about for the first time since the crash.

None of the others were visible; Reggie fearfully wondered if they were alright. If Bingo was safe somewhere...

He realized that he had to use his head and get out of the river. He shifted his weight and moved so that he was closer to the bank. The shadow of the dry ground looked wonderfully alluring. Taking a deep breath just in case, he pushed off the rock with his feet and shot towards the bank, dragged a little bit more downstream but mostly in the right direction. He grabbed the protruding root of an old tree and pulled himself to shore.

There he lay for several minutes, catching his breath and staring blankly up at the cloudy sky between the shadows of the boughs of the trees and ignoring the fat raindrops which pelted him. It felt so good to be on solid ground, where nothing was going to pull him in any direction other than the one he chose.

After regaining his strength, Reggie rather unsteadily got to his feet. He was not sure at all which direction to head, but upstream seemed logical. So, he took a few wobbly steps forth, which soon enough grew surer. Every so often, he glaced resentfully towards the river. Once, he thought he saw a jagged-edged piece of wood go floating by, a remnant of their poor raft. All their supplies were gone, he realized, except for what little was in their pockets. Yet right now all he wanted was to find someone else. The woods were dangerous, Aunt Hilda had always told him, and although he often disregarded her warnings, this was one which he was now willing to believe. The sound of the rushing water drowned out many other sounds; what if some animal or villain was trying to sneak up on his? He would never know it until it was too late.

He looked about him anxiously, but was only greeted by darkness. An owl hooted suddenly, giving him quite a start. He sighed as he recognized the sound. Oh, come on, Reggie. It's only an owl. Pull yourself together, or you'll never find the others. He shook his head, flinging little droplets of water into the air, and continued.

Although he went for what seemed to him to be a very long way upstream, he could not find anyone. He shuffled tiredly through the underbrush, no longer concerned about making noise. Let the dangerous creatures of the wood find him. He was too exhausted to do anything about it. Just as he was about to fall down and curl up into a ball among the leaves, he heard a voice. It was soft and frightened, but a voice nonetheless.

"Who goes there?"

Reggie was about to answer, but his voice stuck in his throat. The voice came again, this time more bold.

"I said, who goes there? Show yourself!"

Reggie took a step forward, about to answer for a second time, when suddenly a shape came rushing at him. Something silver glinted in the dim light. He had enough good sense to get out of the way, his sense of self-preservation prevailing over his fear. He noted vaguely that the shape was hobbit-sized, and then it dawned on him.

"It's me! It's Reggie!" he proclaimed to the woods and to the mysterious person, before the latter could prepare for another go at him.

"Reggie?" the person said hopefully. "I didn't realize it was you! It's Rory!"

He was flooded with relief. His luck seemed to be improving. "Do you know where any of the others are?"

"No," said Rory, putting his short sword away. "I couldn't find them, and I fell asleep for a while." Now the other hobbit's voice seemed quite familiar; Reggie figured that it must have been fright that had kept him from recognizing it.

"Oh," Reggie said dully, the word 'asleep' beckoning him to do the same. "Well, I'm glad to have found someone." His mind became hazy with his fatigue; he had to give himself a good mental shake to return to the real world and not that of dreams. "What do you think we ought to do?" he asked at last.

Rory shrugged, nothing more to Reggie's eyes than a quick raising of shadowy shoulders. "I don't know that there's anything we can do right now. Just wait until morning, I guess."

"I just want to go to sleep," said Reggie, plopping on the ground under the partial shelter of a tree.

Rory chose a nearby tree for himself. "I think I'll keep watch," he said. "There are supposed to be ruffians in these woods."

"Wake me up later and I'll watch too." With that, Reggie finally slipped off into thankfully dreamless sleep.

[Firefoot]

Sondo knew that every moment in the water had him moving further downstream and away from the rest of the hobbits. He had to get to shore. Blindly he struck off across the current, forcing his stiff limbs to move. He swam with a fevered haste, desperate to reach the shore. He knew that he was of no help to the other hobbits when he had no idea where they were and was half-drowned himself. Even so, his progress could hardly be called good because of both the harsh conditions and his own not-so-strong swimming techniques. His rapid strokes soon slowed, and his mind dulled somewhat. Would he ever reach the bank? After what seemed an eternity, he did. The bank was steep, and it was only by sheer strength of will that he was able to pull himself up at all.

The hard swim left him exhausted, but he could not rest yet. He was the leader, and he would not be responsible if hobbits drowned. He looked up and down the river first, as if unsure of which way he was supposed to go. North... would be that way, he thought. Of course. Without further thought, he began to half-stumble, half-run upstream. Where was everybody? Surely some had made it to shore by now. A horrible thought struck him. What if they were all on the other side? He would never find them - they might even think him drowned and go on without him! This was his adventure. His! The thought of someone else taking over cut him deep. He had to find them. How far upstream? Had he gone too far? Oh, this wretched storm! It was ruining his perfect adventure. There was a lump of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. Assuming he found his friends - what then? They would be without supplies. The raft had crashed, his beautiful raft was in shambles, and all their food and blankets and everything with it. There was nothing left. No, wait, that wasn’t true. He felt mild relief poking into his wall of despair as he assured himself that he still had his knife, and an apple from lunch, and soggy clothes. These things would get him far, he thought bitterly. Oh, why did his grand adventure have to go so wrong?

Just then, he tripped and fell. He didn’t get up, either; just lay there drawing deep, shuddering breaths. He had to calm down. They weren’t dead. They would find each other, and they could go home. They had only been sailing for three days; how far down river could they be? These thoughts, meant to be comforting, sounded sarcastic even to himself. The river current had been stronger than he had ever expected, especially in this last day when they had not stopped at all. Sailing was much faster than walking. For the first time, he wondered if he would ever see his home again. What a fool he had been, thinking they could just take off ‘adventuring.’ He began to doubt himself - always before he had gotten them out of scrapes, but how would he get them home? He was the leader, and he could not let them down. What would they say of him if hobbits died? They would never listen to him again. This was beyond bearing, and grim determination settled down in place of despair.

Sondo picked himself up from the ground and took off northwards again. He would find them, all of them. Especially Sassy, the bratty, troublesome, girl - his sister. He wondered again how far he had gone, and how long he would need to look. What time was it, anyway? Surely it was midnight by now. If only the cursed sun would rise; then he would be able to see. He only ran blindly, now; what was the chance that he would simply happen upon someone? He wished he would hear something, anything: cries, yells, even grumbling. It would be so much easier if he could just build a fire and let them come to him. He couldn’t, though; it was entirely too wet, even if it had mostly stopped raining. He halted abruptly; dared he to hope? He had heard something; he knew it. He switched directions and hurried toward the sound. He soon found what he was looking for: only a little ways ahead, there stood a hobbit, though Sondo did not recognize him in the dark. He grinned.

“Hey, you!” he called out, but not so loudly as to startle the other. His approach accompanied the words, and he continued. “Have you seen any of the others?”

[Primrose Bolger]

She’d just settled down into a fretful sort of rest. The night sounds about her had settled, too, into the background and no longer set her on edge. She’d sorted them out or simply didn’t care any longer because she was so sleepy and none seemed to be coming any closer.

A pleasant dream of hot buttered muffins washed down with honeyed tea was just drawing her down to sleep when her eyes flew wide open in the darkness. SOMETHING was coming closer . . . and closer . . . and closer still! Sassy hunkered a little further down beneath her cover of leaves and twigs, hoping it would pass her by, unnoticed. It was big and clumsy as it clomped along. She thought she could hear its ragged breathing as it approached. In her frantic thinking, the Bear, for that’s what she had decided it was, was snuffling along and would soon catch her scent. She grasped her whacking stick firmly in her little fist and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

She just thought her little plan might work when the Bear seemed to lunge forward. He was almost upon her! Sassy rose from her leafy hideout and stood just in the path of the Bear wavering for a moment on which way to run. The creature raised its big, long arm at her and roaring loudly came at her.

Sassy screamed, a long , loud, shrill scream and fell over in fear at the attacking Bear. There was no light really to see him well but she was sure she could see blood red eyes fixed on her and the glint of sharp fangs and claws. As he neared her, she found the courage of the beset upon and struck out blindly with all her might at the knees of the creature. Her stick came around in a quick arc, and struck the Bear savagely on his lower leg. Surprisingly enough the creature yowled and fell over into the mud and leaves.

‘OWWWWW!’ the Bear called out. And then, ‘My knee!’ There were fearful requests that followed that the tree spirit please just leave him be . . .

‘Tree spirit?’ Sassy thought to herself. Just about ready to run from the monster, she paused. Something about the voice penetrated her panic. Careful not too come too close in case she was wrong, she called out in a hesitant voice.

‘Bingo? Is that you?’

The moon peeked through the thick clouds for a moment revealing the Bear’s face. Sassy came closer, brushing the mud and leaves from her face as best she could. ‘It’s me. Sassy.’ She bent down, offering her grimy hand to help him up. So relieved to see it was someone she knew she hugged him fiercely as he clambered up.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo was so pleased to see another hobbit that he dropped the cudgel he was clutching and submitted meekly to the hug. Still, he briefly snapped back at Sassy, "Watch what you're doing next time. That's me you're clubbin', not some ruddy bear."

He massaged the spot on his knee where Sassy's club had connected and then accepted her extended hand as she helped to pull him up. He hobbled around the thicket in circles and made sure his knee was still working. It felt stiff and sore but seemed to have no touble bearing his weight so he thought he might survive.

They finally sat on the ground under the bush and Sassy showed him how to burrow down under the leaves. Bingo had pretty much forgotten that Sassy was a girl. Their leaf burrow was at least warm and out of sight of other predators. He had already learned from Sassy that she had not seen Reggie or any of the other lads from the raft. Bingo decided that he'd best wait till morning to continue looking for his brother. He'd get some rest and awake at the first light of dawn to resume his search.

Just before drifting off to sleep, he whispered over to Sassy, "Some of the lads might ask about my knee. Maybe that should be our secret. Maybe we should tell 'em we were attacked by a big furry thing, and you and me chased him away with sticks." With that Bingo rolled over and fell asleep....

[Nurumaiel]

"Haven't, Sondo, 'pon my word," said Falco, drawing closer. His hands were in his pockets, and despite his muddy clothes, his dishevelled hair, and a certain sagging of his figure, he appeared quite casual and at ease. It had always bothered his mother. Any amount of horrible things could happen, and he would not give them a second glance. But if it came to losing his apple pie...

"Let's walk on together and look for them," said Falco. "Oh, but it's a wretched not. I'm awfully cold, but I'm sure you're feeling the same. I say, things haven't been going well, have they?" He said it casually, but he glanced at Sondo from the corner of his eye.

Sondo made no answer.

"Don't know how you fared in the water," Falco went on, light and cheery, "but I didn't do too badly at all. I hardly had the time to realise I couldn't draw a breath when I was sitting on the bank, blinking and sputtering. I got in the water long enough to realise how cold it was, though. Brrr! I wish the sun would rise to dry me off. It's wretched to get wet and stay wet."

Still Sondo said nothing. Falco looked him up and down keenly. "Say, Sondo, are you all right? You didn't hit your head or anything, did you? You're awfully quiet."

[Firefoot]

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” answered Sondo. “I guess I’m just getting tired is all.” To a casual listener his tone would have sounded nonchalant, but Sondo knew that there was almost no way that Falco could have missed the terse edge. Sondo had not missed the subtle jab, and he did not appreciate it. Falco was getting a tad too pushy.

“It is pretty late,” allowed Falco. Sondo snuck a glance sideways, wondering just what Falco was thinking. For as bad as things were going, Falco was entirely too cheerful. Sondo began mentally drawing up his guard, not showing it just yet but preparing for trouble.

“I wonder where they all are,” commented Sondo as they walked. “It’ll be near impossible to find them in this dark - we could very well walk within ten feet of someone else and not even see them. Even a bit of moon light would help.” He immediately regretted the words; it would be the perfect opening for another one of Falco’s criticisms, since the other hobbit so obviously held him responsible.

“Maybe so,” answered Falco. “Perhaps we should put off this search until morning, then? That’s probably why we haven’t seen any of them - they’ve all taken a rest.” Sondo realized that Falco wasn’t looking to pick a fight just yet - he had made his point and position clear, and left Sondo with that. A frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Was Falco hinting at something? First his warning of mutiny, and now a subtle hint that he wasn’t doing his job? Sondo felt paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the premonition.

“That makes sense,” he answered, much more easily than he felt. “We could probably find some patch of dry ground to sleep on - under a large tree or something.”

Falco squinted. “Like that one? I bet it’s big enough to be dry underneath.” They headed over to the tree, and if it wasn’t entirely dry, it wasn’t a muddy mess like most of the ground. Sondo yawned. Now that his frenzied swim and mad rush upstream were long over, his exhaustion was catching up to him.

“This’ll do,” he said, plunking down into a nook between two protruding roots, and Falco settled in similarly. Sondo was asleep in no time at all.

~*~*~*~

He awoke groggily a few hours later. His shoulders were sore, his legs felt stiff, and there was a knot in his back where he had slept on a bump. His clothes were rumpled and caked with dry mud. The previous night’s events came crashing back with astonishing clarity. He groaned softly, waking Falco, who without opening his eyes mumbled, “What time is it?”

“Early,” answered Sondo, nearly unintelligible. A rim of pink colored the dark blue sky, heralding a clear day to come. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Time to go find the others.” He rose slowly, testing his aching body. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to get some of the stiffness out. It hardly worked, but he was hardly about to go making a big show of it. Falco appeared not to be having the same problems, Sondo noticed enviously. Some hobbits had all the luck.

He heard his stomach growl, and realized that he was positively starving. Happily he recalled the apple in his pocket, and pulled it out. It was amazingly shiny, if slightly bruised, and Sondo would have eagerly devoured the whole thing... if not for Falco. Not so joyously he unsheathed his small knife and cut the apple neatly in two, careful not to cut himself though it was difficult without a good surface. He offered half to Falco, who accepted. They munched as they walked, heading first toward the river. Rather than sate his hunger, the apple only enhanced it and Sondo wished that all the food had not washed away. Luckily (in Sondo’s opinion), the apple took away the need for conversation during the short trek.

Upon reaching the river, they looked about hopefully for signs of other hobbits or the wrecked raft. They saw nothing, and after a short deliberation they agreed that the best way to go would be to travel along the river bank in hopes of finding something. They debated the direction; Sondo thought they should head north since he had travelled upstream last night and seen no one, but Falco thought that south would be better since, according to him, the raft had crashed pretty close to here and if they went very far they would be past the site of the crash and everyone ought to be downstream of that. It was not quite an argument, but Sondo did not think that it boded well for the day. In the end, they did not actually decide because both heard an unmistakable sound: laughing. The sound seemed fairly distant, but obviously it couldn’t be too far away. They hurried off in that general direction, and both noticed but did not comment upon the fact that it was a rather southerly direction.

After going a little way, they paused. Why hadn’t they found whoever it was by now? Had they missed the direction by so much? There was more light now, even if the sun was not quite up, and Sondo thought they should have seem someone. Falco, apparently thinking the same thing, said as much.

“I know,” said Sondo in simple agreement. These sentiments meant more than they realized, though, for someone had heard their voices.

“Sondo, Falco, we’re over here!” Sondo recognized the voice an instant before the lad appeared.

“Reggie! Who are you with?” Sondo asked as he and Falco approached. Thank goodness they had found someone!

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel woke up groggily, cold and alone in the darkness. He blinked, trying to remember what had happened. As he lifted himself up out of the river's water that laid around him a strange feeling passed over him. He looked around and called out names, but no one answered. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.

He had been alone before and he hadn't been afraid then, but then again he had never been alone in the dark away from the safety of the Shire and his home and bed. The only light that was illuminating the sky was the twinkling diamond stars above him. He couldn't see any moon. All he could see were even darker shadows all around him, swaying in the breeze.

His mind remembered what had happened. The raft had hit a rock and he had been loud for the first time in what seemed like forever to him. He screamed as he was flung into the water. As he was taken down the river he saw Reggie and Bingo struggling to keep their heads above the water. Samuel had tried to save them, but he had been flung against a rock and the rest was a fuzzy black dot in the masterpiece of his memory.

He rubbed his head and marvelled at the fact that he had not died. Perhaps only his memory was blocked out due to fear and other such things. Maybe he had survived somehow. Or perhaps he was dead and this is what eternity was like. He shivered at the thought. There could be no way that this was how the dead ended up. At least he hoped so for his sake.

He walked farther inland, his hands outstretched in a vain attempt to miss certain large objects. He stumbled and fell until he decided that enough was enough and laid down on his back, took a deep breath, and settled into sleep for the night.

************************************************** ***

Warm light hit his face the next morning, bringing Samuel out of his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. There were trees and some different type of rocks, but other then that Samuel had no idea where he was and where he should head off to. He walked down to the river and looked left then right, hoping that he would find someone. His ears strained for any sound of their voices, but all he could hear was the wildlife coming to life with the rise of the morning sun.

Samuel's stomach growled in protest against his thinking mind. He sighed and decided that left seemed better then right and headed along the shore line in hopes to find someone. He walked slowly in fear that he would miss seeing anyone from his group. He looked out at the river for a hope at seeing at least a part of the raft, but he found nothing.

As he walked he thought about home. Was there any chance that he would see it again? Would he ever make it back to tell his mother that he was sorry for how he treated her? He wasn't entirely sure of anything. The only thing that mattered was finding someone and getting back with the group.

[Kitanna]

No one had seen the rock in the river. There had been no time to avoid it. Everything happened so fast for Marroc, he could barely remember exactly how he got to shore. Though he did remember the cold water and the cries of his fellow hobbits.

When his head began to clear he realized he was all alone. He was laying on the shore, coughing up the water he had swallowed. He didn't hear anything from his friends. What if something horrible happened to them? He thought as he rose to his feet. His legs were shaky and he felt sick. "Is anyone there?" Marroc wanted to sound confident, but his voice cracked and came out as more of a squeak.

Marroc walked a little way downstream, hoping to find at least one of his friends. He barely made it twenty paces before his tired legs failed him. He went down on one knee. Marroc was tired, cold, wet, and hungry. He couldn't go on, not until the sun was out.

He pulled himself up once more and headed for the nearest tree. He would spend the night under its branches. He slumped down with his back to the nearest tree. He dropped his chin down and a few silent tears of frustration rolled down Marroc's cheeks before he fell into a fitful sleep.

~*~*~

A single chirping bird brought Marroc out of his nightmares. All night he dreamed of the raft hitting the rock and the hobbits tumbling into the water. He still had no idea where the rest were. Stretching out his legs, Marroc headed back to the river to get a drink of water and wipe off his dirty face.

As he splashed water on his face he thought he heard voices. They were not far off and Marroc swore one sounded like Sondo. He forgot his hunger and his aching body and headed off in the direction of the voices. He would be crushed if his mind was just playing tricks on him.

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Hey! Get up!’ Sassy wriggled out from under the blanket of leaves and poked Bingo in the back. The sun was trying desperately to stretch its own fingers of light into the tangle of elderberry limbs and leaves that had sheltered the two Hobbits during the night. ‘Sun’s almost up, Bingo. Maybe we can find the others.’ She crossed her fingers in the old ‘good-luck’ sign and whispered to herself, ‘Please let me find Sondo. She uncrossed her fingers then crossed them quickly once again. ‘And, umm, Bingo’s brother, Reggie, too.’

Sassy found a flat rock to sit on as she waited for Bingo to wake up. Her little pack was by her side, and she fished about in it, trying to see what was still usable. The cookies were a sodden mush as were the peppermint drops. She emptied the wet remains into the underbrush with a sigh. There was a packet of dried meat strips still left . . . wet, too, of course, but edible. And one badly dented apple. Most of her things were still intact in the pack, they would just need to be dried out when she had time. She patted the pockets on her vest. Some of her things in those were gone. The river had taken a handkerchief, a spare hair ribbon, a snail shell, and some smooth rocks she’d picked up for her sling. She gave a great sigh as her fingers encountered the little lump in her inner pocket – it was the little whistle her Da had carved for her from a small maple tree knot. Sassy untangled the leather thong it hung from and placed it round her neck.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Half an apple later, and a stick and a half of meat stick each, found the two Hobbits walking along the river bank looking for any evidence of the raft or their companions. The sun was just up as they neared a bend in the channel. Sassy was playing some little song on her whistle when Bingo shushed her. He pointed a finger through the clump of trees in front of them. Sassy cocked her head, straining to hear. There were voices . . . familiar voices!

One closer, one a little farther away . . .

‘Sondo!’ she squealed, grinning up at Bingo. ‘And isn’t that Reggie’s voice?’ the two took off running, eager to find their friends and brothers

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a wild looking little Hobbit that came running pell mell toward her brother. The voice certainly sounded like Sassy, and he recognized the breeches the girl was wearing (since they had been his several years ago), as well as the red color of the vest that poked out here and there amidst the muddy swirlings. But the creature had leaves and twigs firmly entwined in her mop of curls, and her face was streaked with dirt. And there on her right cheek was a large bruise and a scab.

Sassy, for he had determined it was indeed her, by her familiar grin and the whistle that bobbed against her raggedy shirt as she ran, waved wildly at him as she sped toward him. He barely had time to plant his feet for the impact when her body hit him and she wrapped her arms as far as she could about his waist, burying her snuffly face against his chest. She stepped back and looked up at her big brother with relief. A few tears had streaked her cheeks, but she wiped them away, smearing her face further.

'Oh, Bunnymuggins,' she sighed, hugging him fiercely once more. 'I'm so happy we found you!'

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel stopped short as the sound of familiar voices wafted to his ears. A smile spread across his face as he broke into a run in the direction that they were coming from.

"Sondo? Reggie? Anyone?" Samuel called as he continued to make his through the trees. His heart raced faster then he thought could be possible at the prospect of seeing familiar faces and no longer being alone with his thoughts and the dark. He kept going, even though he was starting to feel very tired from the running. The thought of being together again with the group was far more important then anything else to Samuel at this moment in time.

He broke through a patch of trees and there before him was Sondo, Bingo, and Sassy running in the other direction.

"Hey where are you going?" Samuel asked as he ran after them.

[Nurumaiel]

Bunnymuggins!

Falco snorted. There stood their leader, their gloriously capable leader. Leader Bunnymuggins. It was too absurd. He, Falco, had a sister, and she never called him ridiculous names. Honestly... if a hobbit lad was capable of acquiring himself a nickname like Bunnymuggins, was he capable of being a leader? Bunnymuggins indeed!

Falco decided that the best thing to do -for the present- was pretend he hadn't noticed, and turn away from Sassy's emotional scene which was no doubt embarrassing her brother to a very high degree. But before he turned to exchange a few light words to Reggie as a way of discreetly stepping out, he could not resist giving Sondo a pitying, and rather condescending, smile.

Leader Bunnymuggins, indeed!

[Boromir88]

“Reggie! Who are you with?” Rory recognized the voice to be Sondo's. Reggies opened his mouth beginning to reply, but before he could, another voice answered "Rory." Reggie and Rory appeared out of the wooded area and looked extremely tired and hungry. Rory collapsed to the ground, unable to stand any longer. Besides some berries he found in the morning, he had not eaten anything since his apple in the morning.

Falco gave Rory some water to get him a little refreshed, enough to give him strength again. "What are we going to do about breakfast?" Rory asked.

"Let's wait and find everyone first, we'll worry about eating later." Sondo said a little irritably. Despite Rory's hunger, he agreed, getting everyone together was more important right now. Rory went by the river and washed his face, and took a sip, he gagged. I might want to boil this first, he thought.

The four hobbits began to search for more signs of the other lads. They couldn't find anything. Rory turned around and suddenly saw Sassy running up to them as fast as she could. Bingo was there too! Rory was glad to see Sassy, eventhough he didn't really care for...girls. No matter how much he disliked some of the hobbits, back in the Shire, he never wished anything bad to happen to them.

Sassy rushed passed Rory, Reggie, and Falco, and stopped instantly in front of Sondo. "Oh Bunnymuggins I'm so glad to see you!" she shouted with joy, and lunged at him, embracing him. Falco let out a snort, Rory couldn't contain himself, he started laughing uproariously. He quickly covered his mouth.

[Firefoot]

Sondo froze in the act of obligingly returning Sassy’s hug. He could feel his ears heat. He had been relieved to see her, if not so thrilled as she, but now the sentiment was buried deep in the recesses of his mind. That despicable nickname!

“Indeed,” answered Sondo sardonically. The sarcasm was lost on the elated Sassy, however. Why, oh, why, oh, why! Why could she not have been stranded on the other bank? Was she really so traumatized by the event? It had been several years since Sassy had last used the horrid nickname, and even more than that since he had endured it with good humor. Why now? And in front of his friends, no less! He knew they had heard; it was evident from their expressions. His icy glare met the eyes of each hobbit, daring them to say something or laugh out loud (or in Rory’s case, to continue laughing). Most averted their eyes and Rory stopped laughing, though many were unable to fully wipe the traces of amusement off their faces - but not Falco. A slow smile spread across his lips. Sondo set his jaw and raised his chin slightly. Then he very deliberately turned his attention back to Sassy. Falco, apparently unaffected, continued about his own business.

Sondo gently removed her arms from around his waist. She looked up at his face with a smile. He did not match it; rather, his brown eyes, usually full of fun, looked down at her with a gaze hard as steel. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Sassafras Brandybuck?” he asked, so lowly that none save Sassy could hear him. It was enough, and without another word he stepped around her so that she was no longer in front of him but to the side and slightly behind him.

Sondo looked about him. Somehow every single one of the hobbits had managed to reunite, looking rather rumpled, hungry, and perhaps tired but none the worse for wear, really. It was time to move on. He had not previously considered their next path, but he had to decide now. They were without supplies and lost, outside the Shire. He wondered how they had all landed on the eastern bank - the wrong bank! He had never looked very closely at a map, and certainly not one that showed more than the Shire, and he had no idea where they might be. Somewhere north of Sarn Ford, he thought, but how far? It could be one mile or forty! If they were close, that would prove the best plan of action, but barring that knowledge the only sensible path would be to start heading north, back home. He wondered how long it would take to get back. Not too long, he hoped.

Sondo opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped. Would they still listen to him? Could they still respect him as leader - Leader Bunnymuggins who had crashed the raft? What if they decided a new leader was in order? They wouldn’t do that, he assured himself, and without pausing to think on the matter further, he did speak up.

“Hey, everyone,” he said. They looked up - at least they were listening. “Obviously, we don’t have a raft anymore, or any of the supplies on it. At least we have only been out here three days - we shouldn’t have such a long path home. As for food, well, we’ll have to find something as we go. We can probably catch some small game, and maybe we’ll be able to find some early fruits. I figure that if we follow the river north, we’ll be home before too long.” There were sighs and groans, but mostly they followed his logic, and there were nods too. Heartened, Sondo said, “We should probably get going, then.” He began to start off, and hobbits followed, but he stopped abruptly at a voice behind him.

“Hey, Sondo?” He could practically hear the “Bunnymuggins.” “Are you sure you’ve covered all your options?” It was Falco. Sondo was in no mood to be contested.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” snapped Sondo.

[Nurumaiel]

"Well, to be blunt," said Falco, with no hint of apology in his voice for being so, "I think it's rather rotten to give up like this. Most of us had a lot of trouble getting away from our families... at least, I know I did, and I had to sacrifice to do it." He thought of the apple pie. "I think it's a downright shame that we should have to go home, where I know there'll be a licking for me when my father finds out, and not have done anything... except nearly drown."

Sondo opened his mouth to speak, but Falco went on.

"It's my idea that we should head along towards Sarn Ford," he said. "It shouldn't take us dreadfully long to get there, and we can attempt to get enough supplies to equip us for the trip home... because, you know, Sondo, I for one am not going home to punishment when I haven't even had my fun yet.

"And I'm not trying to say that you're not capable of leading us," he added, his tone conveying doubt that he actually meant it, "but I think you have this all wrong."

[Firefoot]

Sondo glared at Falco. Had he been a dog, his hackles would have been up and his teeth bared. As it was, he drew himself up, trying to maintain any sense of command that he ever had. It was one thing for Falco to disclose his concerns privately, but this! Who was he to say such things?

Sondo made a sarcastic show of considering Falco's idea. "Okay, let's say we do head south. Do you know when we would reach Sarn Ford? It could be five miles or fifty for all we know. Saying it's fairly close and we make it there. You say we can get supplies. How? Steal them? I don't have any money, and I doubt anyone does anymore. And what happens if we head south and don't come upon Sarn Ford?" Falco remained silent, but had a stubborn look on his face. "Then what?" Sondo pressed, but did not wait for an answer. "At least if we head north, we know that we will be heading home. Even with the current being what it is, we were only sailing for three days - and those not even full days. It shouldn't take us terribly long to get home.

"Honestly, Falco, do you think I want to go home now? If we could have our raft back and some supplies, don't you think I would be on it in a heartbeat? But we don't. If there were any chance of going on, don't you think I would take it? But heading south, we go farther and farther from familiar lands. We have no supplies left, and unless you have some proposed way to go on without food, blankets, rope, and everything else that was on that raft, I see no logical alternatives. I don't know about you, but I heard wolves last night. As long as we are not sailing the river, we are much more vulnerable. It's too risky to try and head south.

"And who knows?" he added more softly, wistfully. "Maybe there's still an adventure waiting out there for us. Maybe this will even be more of an adventure, now that we have nothing but our wits to use." His voice hardened again, taking on the firm, comfortable tone of command. "We have nothing but ourselves to depend on now. You are either with us or against us, Falco. We head north."

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy’s heart fell to her toes when she realized what she’d said. It had felt so good to see Sondo that all remembrances of her two old promises to him had completely fled her memory.

Never hug him in public.

Never . . . never call him Bunnymuggins!

Thorns and nettles! she muttered to herself. It was going to be harder than ever now to get on the good side of her brother.

Even worse, the boys were making fun of him, either with outright laughing or sneaking little snickers. And that Falco! What a mean one he was proving to be. He was yapping on about how Sondo was wrong. And not only wrong but a bad leader to boot. It was all Sassy could do to keep herself from punching him in the belly. She had just enough restraint to know that Sondo would be in an even worse position if she did that.

She screwed up her grimy little face and glared at Falco. He says one more bad thing to my brother she swore silently to herself and I’ll fix him good . . . real good . . .

Sassy worked up a good sized gobbet though her mouth was quite dry, and spit on the dirt at her feet . . . sealing her little vow.

[Nurumaiel]

Oh, so this was how Sondo took his advice, was it? With hard, cold, unfriendly words. Falco had struggled to the point of exhaustion to give advice in a manner that was firm yet preserving of friendliness. Sondo had... had... had... and those last words of his. For them or against them? Sondo sounded more like a mutineer than Falco had ever even considered sounding.

Falco flung back his head and looked Sondo squarely in the eye. "If you put it that way, Sondo," he said, in regular tones but with a glint in his eye, "then I'll tell you that I'm against you. Not against the company, but against you, and you alone. I've no doubt that they have some sense in their heads yet, and the water has dimmed their brains too much." These harsh words, rather than diminish his anger, increased it, and he went on in a more fiery tone.

"You're accustomed to being the leader, Sondo Brandybuck, and I generally follow you because you're sensible. But when you go into an absurdity like this, the absurdity of going home to get whipped and beaten and sent into disgrace for weeks, I lose all patience... and all respect, as well. I won't follow a leader who can't lead. And you, Sondo Brandybuck, can't lead."

He straightened himself up, and glowered into Sondo's eyes for a few moments. "Now I've had my say, and I've given you my honest opinion of your decisions and of you. I'm going south now, because as it so happens I know just how to get supplies without stooping to steal. You might steal, because you're plans always go wrong, but I won't, because mine always go right." He turned abruptly then, and began to walk south, his back defiantly turned to Sondo.

He had not gone a few yards, however, before he turned again and, with scorn and contempt and mockery lashing in his voice, he added: "Wolves my foot!"

[Firefoot]

Sondo's eyes blazed at Falco. Couldn't lead, couldn't he? How many times had he schemed up interesting things to do on lazy days? How many times had he come up with their ideas and plans, most of which worked out brilliantly? How many times had he gotten them out of scrapes? And this was what Falco gave him? No longer did he doubt himself, for he saw that all along it had been Falco's grand idea to steal command of the group from him! Falco was just jealous that Sondo could lead and he couldn't!

"So do you, Falco, think that you could do a better job than me?" challenged Sondo, knowing full well the answer. Falco apparently decided that it was beneath him to respond, and Sondo had his answer in the other hobbit's retreating figure.

"You know what I think, Falco Brandybuck?" Sondo called out. "I think you are scared. Scared to go back home, scared to admit even you can't go on without supplies, scared to face me, and most of all, scared that you just wouldn't be as good a leader as you want to be." Falco stiffened. "And you know what else, Falco? All those years I thought you were my friend. But I can't see now that that's the case, because then you wouldn't be off and leaving us. Our only hope now is in unity, but you can't seem to see that. Go on, leave, if that's what you want. But know that even if you don't value friendship, I do. You're welcome back anytime, once you realize that if we stick together we can accomplish anything. If we all struck off on our own, we would be helpless, but together we are stronger. You said that my plans never work, Falco, but they have - countless times. Because all of us stuck together."

Sondo had realized somewhere in the middle of this fool argument that he was in danger of losing the rest of the band as well. Falco, he had nothing to lose. Sondo had everything, and so, though none of the heat had left his remarks, he had begun using his head again.

"You were honest with me, and I'm being honest with you," continued Sondo. "I think you're making a mistake. But go or stay, it's your choice."

[Encaitare]

"I think you're making a mistake. But go or stay, it's your choice," said Sondo.

Reggie shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable amidst the arguing. Sondo was making some good points... but then, so was Falco. He had listened silently for the whole of their war of words, and now was realizing that they were bound to split.

If he went with Sondo he would get home a lot sooner, which meant getting punished sooner, if anyone thought to discipline him, that was. If he went with Falco, there would be fine adventures. Surprisingly, he had not lost his optimistic view of traveling, even with all that had happened. The fear he had felt the previous night had left him completely, and now being dumped twice into the drink seemed kind of funny, the kind of thing you would tell other hobbits while they looked at you in incredulous admiration. Wasn't that what he had come for: adventures?

It wasn't what he had heard Falco talking about a couple of days before. It wasn't mutiny. It was just a choice. He was free to do what he wanted -- and why shouldn't he be? Why didn't anyone want to have fun anymore? Surely not everything could go wrong.

Falco and Sondo were looking about expectantly, as if waiting for someone to back up one of their arguments.

"Well?" said Sondo. "I hope none of you are going to listen to this!"

"I want to keep going south," said Reggie quietly. Everyone turned to look at him; under the many pairs of eyes he felt nervous, but he kept talking. "I don't see the point of turning back now just because a couple of things have gone wrong. Things will get better," he told the others hopefully.

He glanced over at Bingo to see that his brother was giving him a look of gentle disapproval. Suddenly he felt a little guilty for his choice... it seemed that Bingo preferred to go with Sondo.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo felt his heart shrivel up as he listened to the bickering between Sondo and Falco, and heard his own brother's preference to continue south to the Ford. The one thing he'd wanted from this trip was to become close friends with the rest of the lads. The part about going on an adventure was fun, but not the real heart of the thing as far as Bingo was concerned. Now it looked as if the whole group might split up in petty squabbles and fights. This was not what he'd hoped for or expected. He would prefer to be a peacemaker, and get the two lads to come to some agreement, but he had a sinking feeling that such an attempt would never work. He'd have to take a stand.

Whether they continued south to the Ford or went back to Buckland was not particularly important to Bingo. Either way would be fine. But the one thing that did upset him was to see Falco showing so much disloyalty to a friend. This trip had been Sondo's idea. He knew Sondo had put in a lot of time and effort planning and getting things right. They had all promised to follow Sondo's lead. The events of the day had not been pleasant. But who knew it was going to rain so hard? Bad times and bad things happened to everybody. Of all people, Bingo knew that. When their parents had died he thought at first that he would be next to shrivel up and die. But he'd gotten though it. He'd gotten through it by sticking to his brother and the rest of his Brandybuck kinfolk, as irritating and wrong as they could be sometimes. That was the right thing to do.

Glancing at Reggie, but speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, Bingo shook his head, "It wouldn't be right. When we started this trip, we all agreed that Sondo should be the leader. What kind of hobbits would we be if we went back on our word? Maybe Falco is right about heading south, and maybe he isn't. And maybe some of us will get whipped when we get home. We knew that when we started. But all that's not what's most important. I'm no turncoat, and I don't go back on a promise. I don't desert my friends just because they're in a little trouble, or it seems like more fun to run off and do something else. I'm sure Falco doesn't really mean it, but that's what he's asking us to do. I mean, what if we go with Falco and things get tough? Will we decide to desert him too?"

Bingo glanced hastily over at Falco and saw a very unpleasant look on his face. Then he turned back to Reggie. "You're my brother, and I love you with all my heart. But I hope you'll agree to stay with Sondo wherever he decides to go. It's your choice, and the last thing I want to happen is for us to split up. But deserting Sondo just isn't right."

[Nurumaiel]

Falco heard Bingo's words, and resented them. Disloyalty? Was one obliged to follow a leader who was leading them into disaster after disaster? And what was all this about a promise? Sondo must have had them promise to follow him as leader when the meeting where they first decided on this adventure was at an end. It would be just like Sondo to ensure by such means that nobody took his position of power. He, Falco, had promised no such thing. He had had to leave before the meeting was over because his mother was looking for him. Perhaps the others were breaking a promise, but he was certainly not.

He sat down on a convenient tree stump, folded his arms, and glowered at the company gathered about Sondo. "I'm not waiting very long!" he called. "Either you come with me or you don't, but I'm not going home. Go home and get whipped if you want, or come along with me and have an adventure." His eyes narrowed further. "I thought at least a few of you had some courage!" he said. "Am I the only one who can stand the thought of going to Sarn Ford? Is it really so terrifying as that?"

He stood up and turned his eyes southwards down the river. "Come with me or go with Sondo, but make up your mind quickly. I can't wait until night."