Sailing Away RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

With a shrug of his shoulders, Bingo publicly announced, "Sorry Falco. You know how I feel. I'm sticking with Sondo. But good luck to you. I hope things work out."

With that final pronouncement, Bingo gestured for his brother to come over and speak privately with him. Standing up to his full height, Bingo put an arm around Reggie's waist and tried to make his voice sound as authoratative as he could. "Have you decided what to do, little brother? Of course, you're free to make your own choice. Only I hope you'll decide to stick with me. I've always looked out for you pretty well in the past, and I don't mean to stop doing that now."

There was an awkward silence before Reggie responded.

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Encaitare's post for Reggie:

Well. How was he supposed to react to that?

Reggie loved his brother more than anyone, and part of the reason he had come on the trip was to be with him. But what was this tone Bingo was taking with him? He was acting protectively as he often did, but now it seemed stiflingly domineering.

"Look," he began. "I don't want to go home, not yet, anyway. There's so much more we could see, and places to go..."

"And dangers to be found," said Bingo. Under his gaze, Reggie felt that guilt once more. But, then, why should he always have to follow his brother everywhere? That was how it had started, but not how it had to continue.

He pulled away from Bingo. "I'm not a child, Bingo; I'm almost as old as you. You don't have to act like I need looking after all the time. We've gotten along just fine for years without anyone minding us, and I can do just fine by myself too." Bingo opened his mouth to say something, but Reggie did not allow him to do so. "It's not about Sondo or Falco," he said quietly but intensely, not wanted to draw the others' attention. "It's about doing what we want to do. And I want to go to Sarn Ford."

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

Bingo's post

"I know you're not a child anymore. I didn't mean it like that. But I thought you'd want to stick together. That's what brothers do. If you want to go to Sarn Ford so badly, I won't be the one to stop you. Just remember though, if you get in any kind of trouble, I'll still be here and ready to help." Bingo stuck his hands deep in his pockets and purposely walked over to where Sassy was standing, determined to try and ignore his brother as much as possible so that Reggie would not notice how much his own feelings had been hurt.

[Boromir88]

Rory was as much torn between Sondo and Falco as the other hobbits, maybe even more so than the others. He realized that so far the trip has been a disaster, only one problem after the next, and with Sondo taking on that responsibility of leader, he needs to be held responsible. Rory also realized that in those moments of trouble it was Sondo who pulled everyone together to get them out of it. That is what you call being a good leader, Rory thought, being able to get your crew through the rough waters...that is what Sondo did.

Rory's thought shifted over to Falco's. If I do go home, I'm only going to get in trouble. Falco is promising adventure and fortune, and saying if you go with Sondo, you will only be punished and humiliated. Falco was offering a grand thing, adventure...what the hobbits set out to do in the first place. All hope of adventure had left Rory, he soon found himself shouting out amongst the clammer making sure he was heard, "I don't know about you, but if we do go home, yes we all will be whipped and punished, but better then prancing off to certain death!" He turned to Sondo, "I go home with you on one condition. Ever since this adventure started you made yourself leader, ignoring our demands to pull over and rest, or to not fight the rapids. To me, good leadership also means listening to your crew, and not running things like a dictator, which is what you've done. If you can promise that you will consider, or even accept, our advice, then I will join you. If not I go with Falco."

[Kitanna]

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

Marroc had found the others and was wishing now he was still lost. They were so divided now. Falco was accusing Sondo of being a bad leader and Marroc couldn't see it. Sondo didn't control the weather, it wasn't his fault the rain had picked up. No, none of them had seen that rock. It was as much their fault the raft crashed as it was Sondo's.

"Come with me or go with Sondo, but make up your mind quickly. I can't wait until night." Falco said. Marroc was looking around, some of the hobbits were actually considering following Falco to Sarn Ford.

Well Marroc would not go. No, he owned it to Sondo to stay. He didn't care if he was punished for leaving. Who knows what will happen on the way to Sarn Ford, he thought.

Now Rory was giving Sondo an ultimatum. Either Sondo listen better to their suggestions or he went with Falco. Upset and frustrated with everyone's disloyalty to Sondo Marroc spoke up. "We can't blame Sondo for all our misfortunes. He can't control everything little thing that happens, especially the weather. He was not the one who made it rain so hard yesterday. We shouldn't abandon him because of these misfortunes, we shouldn't break up at all. I will not leave Sondo, even if that means being whipped when I get back. I owe it to him to stay." Marroc took a step closer to Sondo and Bingo.

[Firefoot]

Sondo looked over Rory appraisingly. His temper was up, and listening to the talk swirl about him was making him worried. Some, like Bingo and Marroc, were clearly with him, but others, most notably Reggie, were set on going to Sarn Ford with Falco. This would never do! He had to keep them together, one way or another. And yet... Rory's comments stung, a little. So now he was a dictator?

"Is that what you think?" asked Sondo hotly. But he did not give Rory a chance to answer before going on. "Well, I suppose a dictator is better than 'can't lead.'" He laughed shortly, humorlessly. "As for hearing your opinions, I've always been open to that. And if it makes good sense, I'll agree. But all anyone does is complain or yell." He shrugged. His pride, already wounded, refused to let him give any more than that. "We need to stick together, Rory, which is what I want. But, blast, Falco's got everyone taking sides! It's senseless!" He hoped he had Rory won over, but Rory was not his biggest concern. He had little hope that he would win Falco over, but he would go down fighting, and maybe, just maybe, Sondo would persuade the rest of them to come with him.

"Falco," he said. "You still have not explained one thing. Just how do you plan on getting supplies at Sarn Ford? Not steal, you claim. But even if you do have money, don't you think that word will have reached Sarn Ford that we've all gone missing? Don't you think that you'll be stopped and sent home? And I daresay, I'd like to be there when you explain how it is that only a handful of you made it to Sarn Ford.

"And as for adventure," he continued, directing the comment toward the whole group though it was said as if to Falco, "Perhaps you misunderstand my intent. Just because we head northward does not mean the end of adventure. Plans are flexible - if things are going well, it may well be that we decide to strike out eastward and come home from a more round-about way. I'm sure that there is some kind of adventure out there, no matter what direction we head." He shrugged again, but there was a light in his eyes and a touch of passion in his voice. The idea of possibly going eastward eventually delighted him. Truth be told, he wanted to go home no more than did Falco, if for different reasons - he could take a whipping, if that's what it came down to, but he did not want to go back to the confines of Brandy Hall. "You think that I'm slinking home defeated. But I'm not. If there is adventure out there to be found, I will find it - but not by heading out blindly. There are people who die in adventures, too, you know - I'm not going to be one of them."

[Nurumaiel]

Sondo's argument made sense, though, of course, the part about dying in adventures was all rot. Nobody was going to die, whether they went north, south, east, or west. Aside from the dying bit, though, it was reasonable, and believeable. They could still have adventure on the way home, especially if they went slightly eastwards. But rather than reconcile Falco to returning home, it irked him more. What if the other boys saw the sense in what Sondo was saying and he gained more supporters? And Falco was a stubborn lad. He had set his mind on going south. South he would go.

Maybe they would be sent home from Sarn Ford, maybe they wouldn't. Falco's cousin who lived there would be willing to lend them supplies, and he wasn't a very bad sort of fellow... maybe he'd sympathise with them. And they could have the adventure they'd planned for.

Falco set his lips in a firm line. He would not give in. He would not. He contrived to make his face one of contempt and superiority, and considered that sufficient answer to Sondo's words. He said nothing.

[Crystal Heart]

Samuel just stood and watched. No one had really noticed that he was there and now there was a huge fight over who should lead. Yes, it was true that they had had two accidents since the beginning of this journey, but that didn't necessarily mean that Sondo was a bad leader. The first accident wasn't even Sondo's fault. It had been entirely Samuel's and everyone knew it. Besides, a rock in the river is no one's fault. It wasn't as if Sondo had placed it there on purpose.

He just stood and watched, unable to bring up any words. He was so unsure of how to even come into the topic. He was the blunt one most of the time, but since his realization that he was far more then just plainly blunt he just didn't want to step on anyones toes. He wanted to be a part of the team, but the team was now falling apart.

"Perhaps we should have a vote on who should be our new leader. But before we do allow me to speak. If you are going to blame the two accidents on Sondo then let's just stop and think a second. The first was purely my fault. We all know it and we don't have to go there. The apologizes have been said and everything else. Second, what did you except? It's a river. Did all of you think that Sondo would have known the entire lay of the river? Think about this people. Just because we lost our raft on a rock doesn't mean anything. And it defiantely does not mean that Sondo is a bad leader. What is wrong with you all? The sign of any danger and you want to point fingers?! We are suppose to be a group, a team in this journey. Yet you all want to just ditch this endeavor! What did you except this would be all about? Of course it is dangerous! Of course we are taking a risk! But that is what this journey is all about! Adventure! Danger! Excitement! If you can't take this then no leader will be good enough for you. Just think about that as you alienate Sondo. IF IT WASN'T FOR HIM NONE OF US WOULD HAVE STARTED OUT ON THE BIGGEST ADVENTURE OF OUR LIVES!"

Finished with what he had to say, he sat down next to a tree and crossed his arms.

"I have said my peace. It is your decision what you want to decide. It doesn't matter, but my decision is that Sondo is the best and I will follow him wherever he leads."

[Nurumaiel]

Sondo was the best?

Tears of frustration leapt into Falco's eyes before he could stop them. He averted his face from the group. He would not let them see those tears. He would never let them see those tears.

Sondo was the best. It was always the same. Everything they did back home revolved around that fact. Sondo was the best. He should be our leader. Was Falco never right? He strived so hard to do something worthy of admiration. He wanted to be a leader like Sondo was. But whenever he came up with something, even if it was a good idea, it was considered a bad, bad idea if it opposed what Sondo wanted. Because Sondo was the best.

They always said Sondo was the best! What about the time they had been sailing their wooden boats in the river? They had worked so hard to make those little boats, and then Sondo had wanted to sail them in the rougher part of the river where there were more rapids. It would be more exciting, he had said. Falco had adored that little boat he owned. His older brother had helped him make it. He had tried to protest that the rapids might harm the boats, but the boys had all turned against him. Sondo was their leader, they said. He knew what he was doing. He was always right. He was the best. We'll do what he says. And the boats had been pounded on the rocks. Falco's had been battered and beaten until at last it disappeared into the wild tumult of water.

All because Sondo was the best.

They never listened to him. They never would. He would have to follow all his life, whether the plan be good or bad. He could never lead. He could never win admiration from the boys. Sondo was the best. Sondo was the best. Sondo was always the best.

Falco whirled to the group, brushing at his eyes and struggling to keep his voice even and free of breaking. "I'm leaving now," he said. "If anyone is coming with me, come along now. If you're not... go home with Sondo."

After all, Falco added bitterly to himself, Sondo was the best.

[Encaitare]

Reggie watched everyone stepping towards Sondo, and felt uneasy. He wondered if perhaps they knew something he didn't, wondered if perhaps it wouldn't be so bad an idea to just join the rest of them. But, then it would seem like he was just giving in to the majority, which was not what he wanted either. He wanted fun and adventures; he wanted to go somewhere he had never been before.

Bingo's last words to him had not helped. He was being so kind to him, perhaps kinder than Reggie deserved. I'll still be here and ready to help, he had said. But that wasn't what he was supposed to say! He should have said, Yes, Reggie, you are a child -- you're my little brother and you're coming with me, and that's final. Then Reggie would have had every reason to be resentful, and part ways without regret. But that wouldn't have been like Bingo at all, anyway. He thought he had seen a glimpse of hurt in his brother's eyes as he turned away, and he felt sorry about it -- but he didn't want to be sorry! What did he have to be sorry for? For wanting to do something on his own for once?

Really struggling within himself, Reggie felt as though he might begin to cry. This was absolutely unthinkable; it would only prove that he was still some sort of baby.

"I'm leaving now," Falco was saying, his voice sounding a little strange. "If anyone is coming with me, come along now. If you're not... go home with Sondo." Reggie looked at the other boys. They all stayed where they were. Bingo would not meet his eyes.

In frustration, Reggie turned quickly and joined Falco. They began to leave the others. I will not look back, Reggie thought. I will not, I must not...

But he did. Bingo was still looking at the ground.

[Firefoot]

Sondo said nothing for a moment as he watched them leave. In the end, he was not surprised, and the disappointment he felt was tempered with triumph. He knew he had won the argument, and Sondo now figured that Falco had had in mind all along to leave, though preferably with a larger following. Far more hobbits than had left with Falco had sided with him, some with quiet loyalty and others with bold exclamations. Ultimately, leadership still belonged to him, and he drew from that.

"Well," he said. "I guess that's that. We've got to be heading on as well, but I don't think we need to be in much of a hurry. If they don't reach Sarn Ford soon, they may decide to come back after us." He doubted it, but as long as there was that hope, Sondo thought that he would have an easier time keeping up the morale. Tricky as that may be, Sondo had set high importance on it, especially in these coming days.

"But before we get going, I want to take a quick inventory of supplies. All that I have left is my knife. Do any of you have any food? Rope? Anything?" They pooled their resources, and, as Sondo expected there was not much to be had. About half had some kind of weapon, and among all of them there was only enough food for each of them to have a meal, and most of that came from the pack Sassy had managed to keep. Other than that, there were only a few odds and ends: fishhooks without line (though there were some short pieces of string), a spare button, an unusually colored stone, and the like.

"Maybe we'll catch some fish for dinner," said Sondo in an attempt to be positive. "We have some stuff here; we'll get by." Everything disappeared back into pockets, and without further deliberation they headed north. If any had regrets about the path they'd chosen they kept quiet; for better or for worse, their loyalties and desires had been evaluated, their choices made, and their lots cast.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam watched as Falco walked off with several others. In his mind this was not how things should be. They were a group and we wanted to stay a group. Besides they were only hobbits and that alone was not a great thing. Any one could come up and hurt them for just being hobbits.

Sam leaned over to Sondo and said, "I shall be back," before running after Falco. As soon as he caught up to him, he whipped the young lad around and looked him square in the eyes.

"What is wrong with you Falco? I understand wanting to be a leader. That I have always wanted, yet have never really told anyone. A good leader understands danger. The dangers of going by yourselves without protection, supplies, and other things is a suicide mission. Is that what you are leading these hobbits into? A suicide mission. You must think about that. I have nothing against you, Falco. None whatsoever. The only thing that I fear with you is your inexperience. Do not allow that to be your downfall, Falco. Just my words of wisdom. Take them or leave them. It is your choice. Good luck to you."

Sam walked away, hoping that his words would strike in Falco's heart and remain there, helping him in his leadership.

[Firefoot]

Sondo led the way upriver, mostly occupied with his own thoughts. Now that his temper had cooled off, he was able to rationally think through his argument with Falco. He realized, though he would never admit it, that he had said some things that would further push Falco into breaking away. Perhaps he could have been more considerate to Falco’s opinions - or maybe not. Falco had been downright insulting, saying that he couldn’t lead among other things. Though it was the first time Falco had told him so out loud, Sondo could not help but wonder whether Falco had felt that way for quite some time. To tell the truth, Falco’s comments had hurt. They still did, in fact, for though he was confident in himself, even arrogant, sometimes, the opinions of his friends did matter to him. And he did value his friendships; now he could see almost no way that he and Falco could ever make peace between them. After so publically denouncing him as leader, Sondo doubted that Falco would ever follow him again, and Sondo would certainly never follow another. They really were alike, Sondo mused. It was only that he had not only the ideas and the daring to carry them out, but also the persuasiveness to get others to go along with him. Falco had never really had the ideas, and so the hobbits naturally followed him. Sure, Falco protested occasionally, but he usually ended up going along with everyone else. But not this time. Never before had the two come to an out and out fight, and it was a sore blow to Sondo.

With a soft sigh, Sondo tried to put the thoughts out of mind. It was over and done with now, and there would be nothing to do about it until the two of them met again. If then. But with nothing else to occupy his mind, he kept coming back to the same old regretful thoughts. If he had the opportunity he would prefer talking with someone, but the remaining hobbits were either chatting quietly in pairs or similarly concerned only with their own thoughts. There were some who seemed perfectly content to make the best of the situation, smiling and even laughing on occasion.

Even so, their going was slow. Originally they had planned to keep to the river bank and so follow the Brandywine north. However, this idea was soon abandoned as the bank proved steep and uneven in footing, not to mention muddy. They had switched to walking in the forest, keeping the river close on their left and in sight. The ground was similarly muddy and uneven and the undergrowth thick so that they had to watch their steps so as not to trip. It was hardly better than walking along the riverbank.

It was nearing noon when Sondo started to get hungry, and he called for them to stop for lunch before anyone started complaining. He did not think that they would, after such a morning, but he didn’t care to find out. They had been travelling for around four hours now, but Sondo knew they had not covered very much ground. None of them had had much sleep, and some had not even eaten more than a full meal’s worth since yesterday’s breakfast. A weak attempt was made to preserve what food they had, but all were hungry and their supplies much diminished. Sondo reckoned that they might have enough for one more meal, but it was doubtful. They did not stop long and continued once everyone had finished. They would have to stop earlier that night in order to (hopefully) catch some fish.

They had barely started out again when Sondo’s mood began to pick up again, as it inevitably did if there was anything to be cheerful about. Sure, they had lost a couple members of their band and they were heading home, but there was more to come. They were down but not out, and Sondo intended to enjoy himself. He began to hum a merry tune, and as he recalled the words he began to sing. He was not the most musical person, but he could carry a tune well enough and the words and melody were both well known. After the first verse he was joined by a few more voices. It was a right good song for adventuring, though not without typical hobbitish references to food and drink, and after the final rousing chorus Sondo felt himself grinning. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy followed along behind Sondo and the remaining companions. She felt relieved in a way that Falco had gone off on his own. It was a guilty sort of relief, but it had taken her brother’s attention off her mistake in blurting out his old nickname, and it gave her a sort of ‘place’ in this new little group. After all, they had all stuck by Sondo – the boys and her.

They were all tired, but Sondo set a fair pace. She figured he had some plan to get them to a good place to spend the night and find something to eat. ‘Speaking of which,’ she thought to herself, ‘maybe there’s something I can find to help out.’ Taking her pack from her back, she opened the top flap and began to fish through it.

The food was all gone. She and Bingo had finished off the meat strips as they made their way back to the group. The few cookies she had brought were in soaked crumbles and the peppermint drops were all dissolved, leaving a sticky mess in the bottom of her pack. A number of the items in the big compartment of the pack were gone, washed out by the surging river water. But the things in the side pockets were all still there; their flaps tightly tied by her were now quite difficult to undo. The fishing line from her uncle was still there in one pocket as were some of the hooks she’d borrowed. A couple of snares for coneys were wadded at the bottom of another. And her Da’s filet knife. She heaved a sigh of relief when she found it secure in one of the back pockets.

Her last thing to investigate was her vest pockets. In the lower right hand one, still buttoned, was her little sling. But all her smooth little rocks she used in it were gone. She pulled her pack open again and felt about for the little leather pouch she kept it in. Perhaps she’d missed it, she thought, on her first look through. Hope as she might, though, it simply wasn’t there.

Looking up, she saw she’d fallen a little behind the others during her inventory taking. She could hear they'd started singing a cheerful song. Sassy put her pack hurriedly on her back and went running to catch up. It took longer than she expected as she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her and to the sides, stopping now and then when some promising looking rocks beckoned.

[Encaitare]

Nurumaiel's post:

Falco trod along with his eyes fixed on the ground, and his eyes flashing first with anger, and then with worry. He was still upset about the split of the group, and the fact that he had gained only one supporter. And, of course, the fact that Sondo was the best. That still hurt. It had been hurting for a long time, and would continue to hurt. But worry also assailed him. They had been trudging along for sometime, and had in fact already made one camp, but there was no sight of Sarn Ford. Falco had expected to reach it the evening he set out, but it was almost a day later, and there was no hint that they were drawing close. No sign pointed and informed them that Sarn Ford was close, and no hobbit wandered about to give them directions. Clearly they were still in a wilderness.

"Is it almost suppertime?"

Falco looked up. Reggie had tagged along faithfully with him, though he hadn't said much. Falco suspected that the boy was still feeling rather badly about having to split with his brother, and so he had exerted himself to show Reggie a special sort of kindness, and for more than one reason. The first reason was to comfort Reggie and distract his mind from the parting with his brother, and the second reason was to show his one follower that he was a kind, compassionate leader who cared about the feelings of those under his command. But Falco could not deny that he was getting tired of being kind and compassionate, and was feeling quite snappy at an unforseen happening.

"Yes, I think it's quite suppertime," he said, and promptly sat down. Gesturing for Reggie to do the same, he cleared his throat and said. "Er... now, Reggie, I have something to tell you. We lost most of our supplies, as you know, and we've been dining off what I have in my pack. But the fact is, it's taking longer to reach Sarn Ford than I had thought, and we're running low on food." Reggie said nothing, but his look clearly implied that he was waiting for more. Falco went on, saying: "Well, then, Reggie, I suppose I'd better be blunt. The fact of the matter is, we're clean out of food. But," and he quickened his words so Reggie could not speak till he was through, "that doesn't matter, because we're almost to Sarn Ford, I'm sure of it. We've gone to bed without supper often enough, or at least I have, and we can do it again tonight, for the sake of an adventure. We should reach Sarn Ford by morning, and everything will be all right."

To his surprise, Reggie raised no clamour of protest, but was rather uncannily silent. He was so silent that Falco began to wish he would start complaining. Reggie was thinking, that was clear, and Falco was afraid of what he might be thinking. Not mutiny, surely... hopefully...

"Well, we've got sometime until it gets dark, so we can just hang about as we please," said Falco, trying to speak in those kind, compassionate tones. "Go where you will, but I guess it would be best if we didn't stray too far from the camp." He opened his pack up and peered in. "Here's one last bit of a biscuit, Reggie," he said. "It might be a little stale, but it will fill you a little bit." He placed it into Reggie's hands, and then strode to the river-bank, hoping that his sacrifice made a good impression on Reggie's mind.

Sinking down into the grass, he dropped his feet into the cool water and swished his toes back and forth, gazing uneasily down the river. Were they really as close to Sarn Ford as he hoped? What if they weren't? They couldn't trek miles with no food in their stomachs. Or, at least, Reggie couldn't. He was younger and not as strong and hearty. But Falco wondered if he himself would be able to march a whole day without any food. This was an awful situation. But it was best not to worry about it. Sarn Ford had to be close. They'd been walking for so long. And their only choice was to go back to Sondo.

"And I'll never do that," Falco murmured. He directed his eyes to the river and watched its gentle running, and resolved to think of something else.

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Encaitare's Post:

Reggie watched Falco's retreating back, and then eyed the bit of biscuit he held in his own hands. This was all the food they had left? Why hadn't Falco told him they were running out of food?

He wondered if Falco really knew how close (or far) they were from Sarn Ford. Reggie did want to go there, truly he did, just for the sake of going somewhere he had never been before and seeing something different for a change. Still, Sondo had said something about heading east...

His thoughts a confused jumble, he decided to take advantage of Falco's suggestion and go off by himself for a bit. He wandered away from their semblance of camp until the noises of the river were faint. As he walked, he nibbled on the biscuit. It was stale, and seemed much smaller when he actually raised it to his mouth. Instead, he broke off a corner and stuck the rest in his pocket. He rued the loss of the nice pack which Bingo had assembled to him.

I hope he's okay, he thought, wondering what the others were doing now. He then realized that he shouldn't care, since he had chosen to leave them, and made himself push the thought out of his mind. He focused on the squirrels, the patterns the sunlight made on the ground as it came through the leaves, the hopes he had for reaching the Ford -- anything to distract himself. But that one pesky thought of his brother kept returning. Bingo had looked so hurt when last he saw him, and he wasn't very sorry about it at the time. Now, though, he was sorry that he had made Bingo, his closest friend and kin, feel so terrible.

"I thought you'd want to stick together. That's what brothers do."

Why was it that Bingo's final words to him were getting to him so much? Guilt was eating away at him not unlike the way he was gnawing on the hard biscuit: slowly but relentlessly.

Bingo had done so much for him throughout his short life. He was Reggie's co-conspirator, sharer of secrets, the one he looked up to the most. Never had he thrown a harsh word at his younger brother -- and look how Reggie had repaid him!

He should go back. He didn't care if he was a baby anymore.

But still... Falco was being nice to him. He seemed to realize that he was upset, and was trying to be especially kind.

But, he had grown snappish as the day grew older. And, if he knew how torn Reggie was, then he would not be surprised if the younger hobbit left.

I must go back, and that's all there is to it, Reggie decided, immediately feeling like a much better person. He hoped Bingo wouldn't be mad at him. With that, he turned back towards the river.

On his way, he encountered a berry bush he had not noticed before because of his musings. Many of the berries were still green, but he found a good number that were ripe or close enough. These he picked and put in his pockets until they were filled to capacity. He then returned to the campsite, discovering that the shadows had grown long in his absence. Falco was probably wondering where he had been for so long, but the other hobbit said nothing until Reggie approached him.

"Anything interesting around here?" he asked in half-interest.

"Not really," Reggie responded. He drew the rest of the biscuit from his pocket and held it out. "Here, Falco. You should have some supper too."

Falco looked at him in surprise, but Reggie did not lower his hand. He took it with a grateful "thank you."

That evening was spent mostly milling about camp in boredom. Reggie was considering telling Falco he meant to go back, but something Falco said changed his mind.

"I hope the others are alright," Reggie had said offhandedly.

Falco grumbled. "Who cares? I certainly don't." He then added, more to himself than to Reggie. "I want nothing to do with Sondo right now, nothing at all." Perhaps he realized what he had said and remembered Reggie's earlier kindness, for he quickly said, "I do hope Bingo is alright, though."

Appeasement, Reggie thought it. Falco had been doing that sort of thing since leaving Sondo: trying to prove that he was a good and kind leader. But Reggie's plan was now set in stone.

He waited until the moon was high in the sky, pretending to be asleep until Falco's gentle snores told him it was safe. Quietly, he rose and took half the berries and stashed them in Falco's pack. Hopefully he would find them in the morning and realize that Reggie's intentions were not hurtful. He wasn't a bad leader, really. It was like what he had said to Bingo, only this time the situation was a little different.

"It's not about Sondo or Falco; it's about doing what we want to do," he had said. And now all he wanted was to be reunited with his brother.

He left Falco silently, following the river north and only hoping that Bingo could forgive him.

[Boromir88]

It was nearing noon and Rory was getting increasingly hungry. He figured they were getting farther, and farther, away from Reggie and Falco. The morning didn't start good at all. He was already hungry from the previous night, and hoped when he found Sondo, he would have food ready. But, Rory stumbled right into a mutiny, and found himself thrown into it.

He wasn't real impressed with Sondo's reply to him. It seemed like Sondo was just saying that to appease Rory, and get him out of the way. What doe he mean he has listened to us? When we begged him to pull over and get some food, he told us we needed to go on, since we got a late start. When I told him it was no use in trying to steer the boat in the rapids, he didn't listen. Then when he finally decides to pull towards shore, it was too late. All Rory wanted to hear from Sondo was that maybe he made some mistakes, and he would listen to the others advice. All it seemed like to Rory, was Sondo just quickly agreed in hopes that Rory didn't join Falco.

Despite not liking Sondo's reply, Rory still decided to go with him. His desire to go home was greater then his desire for adventure. Although, he still wouldn't mind having the adventure they always planned. Rory's main concern was surviving, and considering all their food was destroyed, along with the raft, meant the hobbits depended on finding and catching food. That's the other thing Rory noticed. Bingo and Sassy had proven themselves to be able to catch food, and they were no doubt going with Sondo. Reggie and Falco, although Rory never had a problem with them, hadn't shown that they would be able to catch food. Now, Rory finds himself travelling with Sondo, and still little food, if any.

"Let's stop here, and see what we have to eat." Sondo said. Rory brightened, the thought of food made his mouth water. I don't care what it is, I'll eat anything now. Rory munched down his lunch and soon found everyone ready to start again. The meal wasn't as big as Rory would have liked it to be, but it satisfied him for now, and gave him strength again. With nourishment in his stomach, and the thought of home near, Rory began to sing out in joy: "What was that song old Baggins would always sing? Oh I know...

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, If I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The other hobbits joined in, and new hope had come to them. "Oh, how much I would like to sing the bath song right about now." Rory chuckled and everyone let out a laugh. Sondo called for everyone to stop. Rory's stomach was grumbling, but he was still cheerful from the song, and thought I will be home soon.

[Firefoot]

Camp that night was about as cheery as could be, under the circumstances. They made camp fairly early for various reasons, the most prominent one being to catch some fish, but also so that they might rest. They had had little sleep and most were unaccustomed to such long days of hiking. Feet were sore and everyone was relieved at the chance to sit down. Sassy volunteered some fishing line which she had found in a pocket, and make-shift poles were made from branches. A few hobbits were set up with fishing poles by the river, but after an hour or so they had still caught only two fish, and those not particularly large. No one wanted to wait any longer for their dinners, and so the two fish were cooked at their little campfire and they had a fair meal when combined with the food left over from lunch. Certainly, it was not up to hobbit standards and any one of them could have done with a bit more food, but they weren’t precisely hungry any more.

What concerned Sondo was that now they really were out of food. They would be relying solely on their abilities to find and catch food, and from what he could see wildlife was none too plentiful. Besides, catching food took time. His outlook was bleak, for just the same as he had not known how far away Sarn Ford was, so also did he not know how far away from home they were. He tried to cheer himself by thinking they were doing all right so far and it would get better, but underneath it all he was worried. In his fourteen years of life he had never gone without; now, adventure or not, they had very few basic means for survival. Luckily, there was a clear stream not far from their camp; he did not fancy drinking the muddy waters of the Brandywine. But what would they do if they did not find fresh water? They had no water bottles. He was worried, very worried. Already he had been criticized for his leadership, though nothing yet was truly his fault. What would happen when they went hungry? The responsibilities associated with the title “leader” were being heaped on him like never before. What was he to do?

Nevertheless, he tried to keep a friendly, cheerful attitude for the sake of the other hobbits. They trusted him, to a greater or lesser degree, and he did his best. Even in his grim outlook, he was having fun now. Surely that counted for something. So he tried to put off the negative thoughts and joined the banter surrounding the fire until it began to get dark and hobbits started yawning.

A mention of standing watch through the night was made. A couple looked surprised that it might be necessary, and for himself Sondo had not even thought of it; others appeared concerned that it might be necessary. It sounded like a good “just-in-case” type of plan, and so most of the hobbits agreed fairly readily. So they drew lots for watches, and Sondo sighed resignedly at getting one smack in the middle of the night. He had wanted a good night’s rest.

He fell asleep soon enough, though, and slept deeply until he was awakened abruptly just past midnight for his watch. He got up tiredly and found a rock to sit down upon. For the most part, his watch was uneventful as he had expected. He had told Falco that morning that he heard wolves during the night, even though he actually hadn’t, because it seemed a good argument in the heat of the moment. Now, however, he really did hear them. They sounded far off but it was chilling nonetheless. Such a tangible threat was not lightly shaken off. The howls faded, however, and he heard no more during his watch.

~*~*~*~

The next few days were increasingly dreary. In the morning of their first full day since the split, they left the woods behind and the ground became increasingly more hilly. At first, they tried to continue to stay close to the river, but the bank was extremely uneven and in staying a little further back they were forced to continue up and down the hills. This was extremely tiring, and during their “lunch break” (they still called it this even though there was no lunch to be had) they decided to stay in the ravines between the hills in order to avoid the continuous climbing. In theory, this was a good idea, but in practice it led them further and further from the river, even though they tried to keep left. Ultimately, they were too worn out and hungry to realize just how far they had strayed from their path; it turned out that by the time they stopped the river was not even in sight on top of the hills. All Sondo was sure of was that they were heading more or less north.

The following days continued in much the same way. Hunger became almost constant, for the land was basically void of any edible vegetation, and only once did the succeed in catching a scrawny coney in the snares they left overnight. It had tasted good that night, but the end result was that it merely sharpened their hunger in the following day. Along with the hunger came weariness; they had sleep enough but without food to sustain the energy needed for their hiking, they were all but spent. And the grime! None of them had had a proper bath in days, and there was no getting away from the dirt of travelling. No more mention was made of breaking off of their main path and venturing east; they mostly wanted to go home now if only for the reason of having their needs taken care of. What he wouldn’t do for a hot meal and bath followed by sleep in a real bed. Sondo’s attempts at cheering the others became fewer and less convincing, for he himself was able to find little cheer. Also contributing was the stark absence of Falco and Reggie. Though only mentioned in whispers if at all, they were all sharply aware of the empty spaces. Several time did he wonder how the pair were making out, and whether they had made it to Sarn Ford and found supplies. Perhaps Falco had had the right idea after all; it was certainly taking them long enough to get anywhere - maybe Sarn Ford had been closer than he realized. But there was no going back.

They had continued to keep watch at night, as well, more for the sake of doing it than for any other reason, for as yet no threat had been detected. Sondo did not hear the wolves any more until several days later; he was pretty sure it was the seventh night since they had left Buckland. He could not believe that they had only been out a week; it seemed so much longer. He was not sure that they foreboded well, but passed it off. Their situation could not get much worse, and he thought that if the wolves were going to come after them they would have done so already. During these lonely watches he had only his memories and dreams to sustain him: memories of those first few days, and wistful dreams of how their adventure might have gone. For all their miserable conditions, adventure to him was still very much romanticized. Adventurers went off and after beating off the bad guys and maybe fighting a battle or two came home with treasure and none the worse for wear. This adventure was going all wrong! Adventurers were not always tired and hungry. They did not have to face mutiny. He would not let himself face the truth, that adventure wasn’t always what the stories made it out to be. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, maybe, for then all hope he had in this venture would disappear completely. He was convinced that there had to be something more to it.

But so far there wasn’t. And after five days since the raft had crashed, Sondo had lost all hope that there would be. Even without hope, though, he kept on believing that it would get better. It had to. They set camp yet once again on the eighth evening. It would get better.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bingo was beginning to wonder if they could possibly be walking in circles. They had only taken a few days to journey down river on the raft. Why would their trip back home be taking so long? They couldn't even see the river any more. Maybe they had veered off to the west and would never get back to Buckland again. That thought made him exceedingly gloomy.

At least the members of their party weren't squabbling with one another. But it was not long before Bingo began to feel that the long periods of silence were even harder to take than some good honest fighting. Perhaps his friends were afraid to say what was on their minds because they had lost all hope of ever returning.

The grime and hunger were an annoyance to Bingo, but no more than that. He could have ignored the gnawing sensation in his stomach and the fact that his shirt now looked little better than a dirty old rag, if only his brother was with him. Bingo missed Reggie more than he could ever put in words. His whole life had been spent beside his brother. He had consoled himself at the death of his parents by saying that at least he still had a family in the shape of Reggie. Now Reggie was gone, and Bingo was feeling very lonely. Whenever he thought he heard a noise in the bushes or a footfall coming behind them on the path, he whirled around to see if his brother was there. But every time he had been disappointed. Still, he hadn't entirely given up hope. Whether they reached Buckland or not, Bingo was not at all certain. But something inside his head still reassured him that somehow, someway, Reggie would find his way back with or without Falco, and they would be together again.

[Encaitare]

His traveling had been difficult and lonely... although lonely was the worst part, he thought.

Reggie had been wandering along the riverbank as best he could until the terrain became too difficult to manage. He had then turned away from the river, figuring that the others most likely would have gone that way as well. Unfortunately for him, he had not thought of his food situation very well. He had eaten most of the berries he had found early on, and was a good distance away from the Brandywine before it dawned on him that he really should have fished while he still could. Then he remembered that he had no line or hook, so it wouldn't have made too much difference.

I could have used my shirt as a net, he thought inconsequentially now as he continued through the bare land. His third day without Falco was coming to a close, and he figured he must have covered a considerable distance. He had risen as early as he could, and continued quite late every night in the hopes of catching up. Now he was tired and hungry, and decided that it was time to stop and rest.

Somewhat anxiously, he settled down by a mound of dirt and dug himself in backwards enough that he felt relatively safe. He had heard wolves last night, and hoped that the small shelter would be enough to provide him at least a little protection. Their mournful howling had frightened him to no end, not only for himself, but for all of his companions, wherever they might be. Trying to empty his mind of all his worries, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, it was still dark out. The moon provided enough light to see by, but it was still unsettling. It was the dark of deepest night when all the world was asleep, and anyone who was not was left to fend for himself against all the creatures of the night. He remembered the scary stories some of his older cousins had told him, delighting him with tales of monsters. But that had all been okay then, because he would always go to sleep that night in a cozy bed in Brandy Hall, knowing that he was safe from harm. Now every story he had ever been told seemed as though it might come true.

Reggie gulped as he heard a distant baying. He felt that there was not a chance of falling asleep again, and so he rolled out of his little hollow, causing some dirt to fall on him, down the back of his shirt and into his hair. He combed his fingers through his knotty hair to get the dirt out (largely unsuccessfully), stretched his short limbs, and walked on.

He continued as one in a dream, not following any consciously chosen course, but just allowing his grimy feet to take him where they would. Twice he stumbled in his tiredness; once he fairly tripped and fell on his face. Yet the thought of the night monsters was enough to make him keep walking. To sleep was to be vulnerable when one was lost and alone.

I shall have to sleep in the day and travel by night if this keeps up much longer, he thought irrationally, getting fairly giddy in his lack of sleep. He felt as though he just might laugh in the face of some big old wolf if it came snuffling along, looking for a nice little hobbit for supper. Everything was going so strangely and so wrong -- what did he care if something else terrible should happen?

He entered a rocky patch of land. The sharp stones beneath his feet did not cut him, but certainly forced him to pay more attention to what was going on. A good thing it was, too, for he just thought he had heard someone say, "Hello?"

Ridiculous. Who would possibly be awake out here at this time of night? Reggie shook his head. He was going mad like they said old Mr. Baggins was.

"Hello?" No, there it was again, clear as the stars above him. He wasn't dreaming after all.

"Is anyone there?" The voice did not sound scared, but hopeful. Suddenly Reggie was wide awake. He knew that voice -- it was Bingo's.

"Bingo?" he asked, taking a few steps forward.

"Reggie? Is that you?" He heard the scuffling sound of someone standing up. Reggie flew forward and nearly knocked his brother over in an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Bingo," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "I'll never abandon you again, I promise! Don't hate me... I'm so sorry."

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Hate you? I don't hate you. I am so happy to see you alive and well. Don't you look fine!" Bingo leaned over and engulfed Reggie's frame in a big bear hug. Then Bingo peered at his brother more closely and burst out in laughter. "Actually, you don't look fine at all. You look worse than I do, which is saying a lot. What I wouldn't give for a tub filled with hot water just for the two of us. Whatever possessed us to go on this little trip? It's certainly a good thing I got up. I was lying on the ground with tree roots sticking me in the back. I swear that they were moving, and I couldn't get to sleep. Then something inside my head whispered a warning to get up and go for a walk."

With a grin of affection spreading over his face, Bingo reached out to tousle his brother's ragged curls. Reggie's clothes were streaked with leaves and dirt. Long rips disfigured his shirt, and his hair was matted. But he looked like the finest thing Bingo had seen in a long time. "Don't the two of us make a picture! Aunt Hilde and Aunt Opal would make us wash in the shed for at least ten years to scrape all this dirt off." With a sigh Bingo added, "Well, it can't be helped. We'll just have to pull together to get ourselves out of this mess. Come on back to camp. I know everyone will be happy to see you."

As they walked along the trail, they talked of little things: how loud their stomachs were growling from lack of adequate food, how they would gladly undergo a whipping just to get a plate of Aunt Opal's biscuits, and how dark and mysterious the forest seemed at night. When they finally reached the edge of the encampment, Bingo stopped for a moment. He hesitated, uncertain what to say, but then plunged ahead, "I'm sure Sondo is going to want to know how Falco is, and whether you made it to the Ford. Maybe Falco sent a message through you?" Bingo looked expectently at his brother, but Reggie did not respond. At that moment, their attention was diverted by noises and shuffling in the camp. At least one other hobbit seemed to be stirring and awake.

[Crystal Heart]

Sam hears noises in the night

It was awfully dark and he was cold and hungry. And there, poking him in the side was the tip of some unfriendly tree’s root. Sam curled up in a little ball and huddled as best he could beneath his cloak. He was just on the brink of a little more sleep when the sound of feet scuffling along tapped at his consciousness and then voices drew nearer, bringing him fully awake.

At first, he was afraid. Who would be walking toward the Hobbit camp talking? Ruffians? Or worse yet, Orcs? Sam tried to be as still as he could, hoping they wouldn’t see him, but just a little, lumpy rock beneath a tree. He quieted his breathing and pushed his hands a little against his grumbly stomach to make it stop gurgling. His ears were straining to catch the sound of Orcish chatter . . .

‘Maybe Falco sent a message through you?’ drifted out to him from the darkness.

Wait a minute! Either he was dreaming still, or Falco had really turned against them. Sam pinched himself to make sure he was awake, then listened all the harder. It didn’t sound like he thought Orcs should . . . but still it could be ruffians. Then, the voices stopped and so did the footsteps.

Well, he couldn’t let the bad ‘uns get his friends! He picked up a good sized rock and rose up from his sleeping place, intending to clonk the ruffians on the head.

But there, in the pale moonlight, was Bingo . . . and Reggie! Sam rubbed his eyes, and took another look, making sure. He went running toward the two brothers, dropping the rock as he ran.

‘Hey! Wake up everybody!’ he called out with a grin on his face. ‘Reggie’s back!’

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy had given up completely on her mop of curls. So matted and tangled were they that not even her attempt to use her stubby fingers to pry apart the knots was of any use. With a sigh she pulled out one of the large checkered napkins she’d brought the cookies in and folding it into as neat a triangle as she could, tied it round her head and behind her ears like a little bandana. At least any straggling curls would be kept out of her face, she thought.

She heard voices at the far edge of their rough little camp and stood up, wondering who was talking. It was barely first light; the moon had not yet set, and darkness still covered much of the area. The mists were rising from the ground as the sun's light crept just to the horizon, making it hard to see clearly in the still dark distance. Sassy shivered in the chill morning air. Her little cloak was stiff with dirt and the rips in it let the cold seep through. She stamped her feet as she picked up her pack and slung it on her back. Moving a little closer to the source of the voices, she was delighted to learn that Reggie had abandoned that mean boy, Falco, and come back to their little group. She could see Bingo looking at him fondly at him, relieved to have his brother back. ‘I wish I was born a boy,’ she thought to herself, looking wistfully at the two. ‘Then maybe Sondo would like me better.’ She waved at Reggie when he glanced toward her, and was about to go up and greet him. But someone else had beat her to it, and so she turned away.

With a resigned little sigh, she turned back to where she’d been sleeping. In a small copse of ash and oak, a little ways away from their camp, she’d set her traps. Her hopes were dim that she’d find anything . . . there had been nothing caught for a number of days. But her luck had shifted it seemed, last night, and there were two fine, fat coneys caught in the rope loops, their necks broken. She took them down and wound up the loop rope traps, stuffing them securely into one of her pack pockets. The coneys she slung over her back and made her way as quickly as she could back to camp.

Everyone it seemed was gathered about the returned Reggie. So, her own return remained unnoticed, if indeed anyone had even noticed she had been gone. Shrugging off her ‘left out’ feelings, she concentrated on getting a little fire going. And once done, she skinned and gutted the well fed, if unfortunate, coneys; spitted them each on thin, ash tree branches she’d brought back from the little thicket; and set them to roasting over the small fire.

Sassy sat near the fire to tend the spits. She sniffed appreciatively as the heat cooked the meat. ‘If we quarter them,’ she thought, her tummy growling, ‘there’ll be a good sized chunk for everyone and a bit more.’ She snorted, thinking how Falco would not get a bit of her coneys. Sassy could just hear her Gammer saying how it was best to be kind even to those who spited you. But she just didn’t feel very kind at the moment . . . only very hungry and glad there would someone’s portion for the rest of them to share.

[piosenniel]

Sam

The first faint smell of roasting meat drew Sam like a magnet. He was glad to see Reggie, and hopeful at first that perhaps he had brought back some food from Falco’s camp. But Reggie’s tummy growled as loudly as Sam’s, letting him know there was no hope there.

Then . . . a delicious odor tickled his nose and sent his mouth watering.

Sam turned in the direction of the enticing smell, hoping his mind was not playing tricks on him. There on the other side of the camp was Sassy, crouched down near a small fire she’d started. He could see her hands reach out to turn a spit to either side, now and then. And on each of those spits was a plump coney! He drew near the fire and crouched down, himself, near Sassy.

‘I’ll tend to this one, and you can tend to the other,’ he offered, nodding at the coney to his left. ‘We’ll get them done up in no time with two of us cooking!’ He pulled out the little knife he had in his pocket. ‘I can help with the cutting, too,’ he said, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of a hot meal.

‘Going to be a good day,’ he thought to himself, grinning as he watched the coney turn a nice golden brown and smelled the fat dripping from it sizzle on the coals.

[Encaitare]

Knowing that Bingo was not angry with him lifted a huge weight off Reggie's shoulders. They walked back to the small camp, where the others greeted the returned hobbit. He felt so glad to be back... and what was that he smelled? Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Sassy was cooking some coneys. What a fine breakfast that would make! His empty stomach rumbled greedily as he inhaled the aroma.

Soon enough the sun was beginning to rise, providing thin but welcome light. As a few birds first started chirping, Sam and Sassy announced that the coneys were ready. Each of them was happy to accept his serving.

"Thanks, Sassy," Reggie said to the lass as she handed him a nice piece of roasted meat on a napkin. She had not paid any attention to his return, but now she smiled at his appreciation.

They sat in a circle and ate in silence for a while, but eventually a topic was brought up which Reggie had known would be inevitable. One of the hobbits asked about Falco.

"Yes, did you make it to Sarn Ford alright?" Bingo inquired. Most of the others waited curiously, although it seemed to Reggie that Sondo was trying to act like he was not interested whatsoever.

"Well, er..." he began, "...we never really made it to Sarn Ford. I kind of gave Falco the slip." Everyone looked surprised, and he hurried to get the rest out. "Not too long after leaving, I started thinking I might want to go back because I felt really bad about what I did. And Falco knew it, too, but there was no way he was going to turn back... so I slipped off in the middle of the night, while he was asleep."

He waited for their responses; he hoped that they didn't think he was some sort of double-crosser.

[Firefoot]

Sondo snuck a glance over at Reggie. Now that was interesting. He had been dying to know about Falco since Reggie had come back, but he was not about to be the one to ask. Now he knew, and found a great measure of satisfaction from the story. The pair had not reached Sarn Ford, nor could Falco even keep the one follower he had! The ultimate triumph would be if Falco were to turn around after realizing Reggie was gone... but, based both on Reggie’s account and his own logic, that would never happen.

“Well, we’re glad you’re back,” said Sondo, “even if Falco is not.” No one said any more on the issue; it had been a touchy topic before and everyone seemed satisfied, for now at least, by Reggie’s answer. Some light conversation ensued. Between Sassy’s catch and Reggie’s return, there was finally something to celebrate. Indeed, after going so many days without much to eat, the small meat chunks seemed a feast. Even so, the meal was all too small and was finished all too quickly. Sondo felt sure that given the opportunity he could have eaten both coneys. But he was thankful for what he had, and had given Sassy a smile of genuine appreciation upon receiving his food. It was the first token of forgiveness he had shown her since that fateful day when she called him “Bunnymuggins.”

They tarried there for a while after finishing breakfast, content to relax and let the food settle. Soon, however, Sondo felt an itch to start moving again. One thing he had found was that, even if it made for rather miserable travelling, it made for easy “pick-up-and-go” when they didn’t have any supplies to gather up and carry. They had scant supplies, and once he gave the word to start moving again, it could not have been more than ten minutes before they left.

This morning there was a spring in his step, and lively chatter characterized their hike. Having a meal (albeit a small one) in their bellies took their minds off food troubles (for a while, anyway) and Reggie’s return encouraged everyone, most notably Bingo. And yet, as he walked, Sondo could not shake the feeling of foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach, similar to when he had ‘known’ something would happen before the raft crashed. But no, he told himself. This day has started off so wonderfully; what could go wrong?

[piosenniel]

Sam

Sam came up beside Sassy and ambled along in amiable silence for a while. His feet kicked at little pebbles as he went along, and one he purposely kicked into the path of Sassy’s footsteps. She looked up at him oddly, and he grinned at her, then pursed his lips and looked expectantly toward the pebble. Soon, there was a game of ‘Back and Forth’ going on between them, accompanied by giggles on Sassy’s part when she missed the pebble altogether and it shot into the underbrush.

‘Say, you got any rope in your pack?’ They had tired of the game after a while and now just walked along talking about whatever came to mind. And to be honest, what was most on his mind was the subject of food. Again Sassy looked up at him. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘For traps and such. I was thinking if I helped you lay out a few more traps then maybe we could have a little more to eat. Whatta ya say . . . Sass – a – frass?’

He jumped quickly out of her way in case she took offense to his teasing.

[Primrose Bolger]

It was almost like having one of her friends from home along! Sassy’s spirits had lifted considerably with the appearance of Sam by her side. She didn’t mind the teasing name, but she knew the unwritten rule that you couldn’t let a friend get one up on you, so she stuck out her tongue at him.

She hauled her little pack off her back and dug down to the bottom of the main compartment. There was still a small coil of thin, strong rope and she hauled it out for Sam to see. She put it in his hands, telling him to go ahead and unwind it. As he did so, she got out one of her loop traps, and together they measured the length of it. Sassy offered to tie the slip knot on it, saying how her uncle had taught her the trick. But Sam’s fingers were nimble enough and soon they had two more traps to use. ‘Let’s give ‘em a try out tonight,’ Sassy said, testing the two knots and nodding her head at how well they worked.

Another game began, as Sassy caught the movement of a red squirrel in the branches of one of the trees ahead. ‘I spy, with my little eye,’ she began, nudging him to get his full attention. ‘Something . . . red . . .’

[Kitanna]

Reggie had returned and the hobbits had eaten a nice breakfast of coneys. Marroc's spirits were lifting. He was glad of Reggie's return and the coneys just made the day even better. Everyone seemed to feel better today. It was a pity Falco was not there to enjoy it.

Marroc felt bad for Falco. He had one follower and he'd abandoned him. Well, Marroc was pretty certain Falco would come after them. Who wants to be alone and away from home? Marroc nodded to himself, yes Falco would come around soon enough.

Now he began to whistle and merry tune and looked up into the clouds. Nothing could bring him down. Not today. He thought of home and the wonderful meals his mother would make. Though Sassy wasn't a bad cook. It was good she had come along. Marroc had no idea how to cook and he wasn't sure the others knew either.

Marroc hadn't noticed he'd strayed away from the others. When he drew himself out of his own thoughts he had trailed so far behind his friends he could barely see them. "Wait for me!" He called out, running after them. Marroc caught up in a matter of seconds.

[Nurumaiel]

Falco saw the company up ahead, and a bitter cry was mingled with the gasp of relief that burst from his lips. He was not pleased to see them. He did not want to go to them and ask if he could rejoin their company. It was so humiliating. How could he preserve what little dignity he had left if he went to them? But if he remembered that he was returning to them because he had no choice, and not because he was sorry (for what would he be sorry?), he could still be dignified.

It had been hard to cope with the fact that Reggie was gone. He had awoken that morning in brighter spirits, feeling more than confident that they would reach Sarn Ford before their stomachs told them it was time for breakfast. But when he had gone to find Reggie... Reggie was not there. It didn't take long for Falco to realise that Reggie had returned to Sondo's group, and his soul had been filled with the deepest of bitter resentment. That he had gained only one follower in the first place was painful, but it was beyond words when that one follower deserted him.

He had sat on the river bank for most of the morning, alternating between angry tears and bitter silences. At last he had resolved to go on alone, so he took up his pack and continued on south. By noon he was desperately hungry, and there was no hint that he was close to Sarn Ford. He had walked too close to the river and slipped, and though he saved himself by grasping desperately to the bank and pulling himself up, his pack, which he had been holding, rather than having it safely strapped to his shoulders, was lost.

So he had sat on the river bank for awhile more, wondering what he should do. He had no food, and he was terribly hungry. That was bad enough, especially as Sarn Ford did not seem to be as close as he had thought. But now, with the loss of his pack, he had absolutely nothing. And so the bitter choice was before him... should he continue on in a southerly direction, and hope that maybe, perhaps, possibly, Sarn Ford would magically appear? Or should he return to the group?

He stood up, brushed as much mud from his clothes as he could, and began walking north.

By midday he was trying to decide whether it was comforting or tantalising to imagine his mother's apple pies, and the chicken they would have for supper. He entertained himself in pleasant dreams of the feast he would have when he returned home, and hoped he was not making himself even more hungry by his visions. He walked at a nice, brisk pace, and pretended that his stomach was not growling as loudly as it was.

By evening his steps were lagging, and he was so hungry that his stomach fell, for the most part, silent. He wondered how far ahead the others were, and felt angry that they kept walking instead of taking it slow so he could catch up. He didn't care if they didn't know he was following them... they should wait for him!

An hour past his usual bedtime, he wondered dully if he should get some sleep or keep going. He decided on the latter. Sleep could wait, but he was hungry, so very hungry! If he kept walking throughout the night, maybe he could catch up with them. It was certainly worth trying. He would try.

On he walked, through the darkness. He had been asking much of himself to plod on throughout the day without a bite of food, but to continue on through the night was unbearable, or it should have been. He was so dull and tired that he didn't care. Midnight came, and he was still going on. Two hours past midnight, his ragged breath caught in his throat, and he began to sob. But he still trekked on. His only hope was that he caught up with the others.

Dawn was coming. A faint grey light stole across the sky, bringing the land out of its darkness but keeping it in a cool, dim light. Falco's eyes dimmed to match his surroundings. He could barely walk. His steps were dragging. He was too tired to even cry. The first birdsong of the day rang sweetly in his ears; his foot did not lift high enough; he tripped, and fell, and did not move.

It was too much. He could go no farther. He would rather lie here and starve to death than go on. He could not go on. He had fallen, and he had not the strength to get up. He buried his face in the grass and closed his eyes.

And then he started up. Was that... smoke?

He raised his head and looked here and there. Yes, it was! Not far from him were the remains of a little fire. They must have had their breakfast here. The fire was not dead yet... they couldn't be too far off!

He felt a faint glimmering of hope, and that smallest bit of hope gave him the courage to go on. But when he tried to lift himself from the ground his arms would not support him. Each time he tried to push himself up, they buckled beneath him and he fell back. He was too tired and weak. Again and again he tried, but to no avail. At his last try he put his face down and began to cry. Why couldn't he get up?

He lay, weeping, for some time, thinking all the while that the group was getting farther and farther away. When he had rested a bit, he tried again, but it was all in vain. He began to squirm along the ground like a snake, wriggling back and forth, trying to move himself forward. He did move forward, inch by inch. But to come back to Sondo like this! Like a worm. No, pride could hold out even in the face of exhaustion.

But it gave Falco an idea. If he could make his way to one of the trees, grasp one of the lower branches, and cling on for all he was worth, maybe he could pull himself up. He felt confident that, if he could just get on his feet, he would be all right, and able to stand. Once more he tried to lift himself up, but his hungry, exhausted, thirsty body would not support him.

He wriggled his way to the river bank, and dipped his head down to take a long, cool drink. He put his hands in, splashed his face, and was soon feeling a little more refreshed. He had been walking on so doggedly before that he had been fool enough to not stop for water. But now he felt just a little better. He wriggled to a tree then, slowly, just inching along, and when he reached it he grasped a branch, took a deep breath, and then began to pull himself up. The tree was a kind support and stood straight and tall. Just a few more moments... and then he was up!

He clung to the branch, and leaned against the trunk, gasping for breath and laughing with relief. He was on his feet! How foolish that he couldn't get up himself before. He felt much stronger now in the face of this victory. Well, he would never tell his older brother that he had fallen and couldn't get up. Not even when they were old and grey, not even when they were old and white.

He stood there for a few moments, rejoicing silently, and then he pushed himself away from the trunk, and slowly released his hold on the branch. He was a bit shaky, but he was standing by himself. Now to go on.

And on he went, ignoring the aches and pains in his body, pretending that he was a great adventurer. His imaginings helped a little, but not as much as he would have liked. Yet, he could go on. The rising sun brought hope, he reflected dreamily, and didn't stop to think that it would bring heat and exhaustion if he didn't hurry.

It wasn't so very long before he found the group, and now here he was, standing, torn with conflict. During the night, on his weary walk, he had forgotten his bitterness and anger, and thought he could hug every one of them, even Sassy (as long as the boys promised they wouldn't tell anybody that he had hugged a girl). But now that he had reached his goal, now that there was no more struggling, he was once again reluctant to beg pardon... that is, to forgive them.

But he had to go to them. He must remember, he was not returning to apologise. He was still proud and dignified and aloof. He flung his chin up and strode forward, struggling in vain to hide the limping brought on by his weary, aching feet.

[Firefoot]

The morning drew on, and Sondo began to think it was about time for lunch break. He wondered idly why they still called it lunch break; it had been several days since they had any lunch. More like a break in the hiking was what it was. He was getting hungry again; the cooked coney could only stave off the hunger for so long. He did wonder if the breakfast might be a good sign, and maybe they were getting on to places more suitable for coneys and vegetation.

“Hey, every-” he started to say, turning around. Was he seeing things? After the barest moment he decided he couldn’t be. The other hobbits began to look back too, wondering what it was Sondo had seen. A smug, victorious smile spread across Sondo’s lips. So the prodigal had returned, had he?

“So you’ve come back, huh?” smirked Sondo. He couldn’t help it. “I heard you never made it to Sarn Ford.” Sondo’s tone was conversational, but it was a jab, all right, same as Falco had been throwing at him that last night. Falco didn’t respond, and continued to make his way toward them. Sondo studied the other hobbit closely. He looked tired, like his feet hurt something awful. But there was something about the way he limped... A brief frown flicked across Sondo’s face. Falco looked proud still, even arrogant. Sondo’s temper flared against this hobbit who had shown him in such a bad light, but he shoved it back down. Kill your enemies with kindness, his ma had always said. At any rate, Sondo figured he had nothing left to prove.

This time without the implied jab, Sondo said, “Well, Falco, nice of you to join us.”

[Child of the 7th Age]

“Look!” Bingo grabbed Sassy firmly by the sleeve to get her attention and pointed excitedly toward Falco who was standing in the clearing talking with Sondo. Their voices were low, so that Bingo could not make out what the two hobbits were actually saying. Still, he could not miss the strained look on Sondo’s face. It would be a while till things were back to normal. For his own part, Bingo intended to do anything he could to help mend the situation quickly. Whirling around to face his brother, he flashed a grin of reassurance. “We’re all together now. Things will be better. It might take a bit, but you’ll see.”

Once Sondo backed away, Bingo pressed forward and waved his hand in greeting, “I’m so glad you’re back. I was so worried about you and Reggie.” Bingo sidled closer and lowered his voice, “Don’t mind about Sondo. He’ll get over it. Friends have tiffs and make mistakes but they need each other.”

Reaching under his belt, Bingo fished out his last remaining treasure. It was a small packet of berries that he had managed to scavenge along the trail the afternoon before. Although a few were smashed and in less than good shape, this tiny mouthful to eat was the greatest treasure he could imagine to bestow on a returning friend. “It’s going to be alright, Falco, honest.” He placed the berries in Falco’s hand and gently pressed his friend’s fingers over the precious treat.

Then Bingo slipped back to make room for the others who, full of curiosity and joy or perhaps other less agreeable sentiments, now pressed forward to confront Falco. For his own part, Bingo was content. He began whistling a lively tune and gathering up his belongings hoping they would hit the trail again as soon as things settled down. Surely things could only get better now!

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy stood to the side, watching Falco strut into camp. ‘Hope it doesn’t rain,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Got his nose so far up in the air he’ll drown if it does.’ She hmmmph’d in satisfaction that despite his snotty ways, he was limping. ‘Serves him right!’ she snorted.

She watched as others went up to welcome him back. Her brother sounded sincere, and Bingo, well, he was downright overjoyed to see Falco. What ever was the matter with them? Falco was a rat. A rat who’d come back, but he was still a rat. She looked sideways at Falco as he stood with Bingo. ‘Nope!’ she said aloud, casting her gaze down to her toes as they wriggled in the dirt. ‘I just don’t like him.’

A little rock came rolling along in the dirt, stopping just short of her toes. Sassy raised her head . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Falco's heart was deeply warmed by Bingo's warm welcome. A smile played about his lips, bright and cheery despite its faintness. His smile was not faint from lack of good feeling towards Bingo, but rather because he was feeling faint himself, and he took full advantage of a tree that stood nearby, propping himself up against it. He would have dearly loved to sit down, but he would not let them see how exhausted he was.

"Thank you, Bingo," he said, and paused. "...for the berries," he added. In his heart he was more thankful for the words of kindness, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything about that. He had been afraid of the reaction that would be given when he returned. He had expected at the least dark scowls and angry mutterings, and more probably an open attack on him with sticks and fists. Bingo acted just to the contrary of all these imaginings, and it made him feel that perhaps it was so bad that he hadn't continued on to Sarn Ford. Maybe he could be reconciled with the others yet.

[piosenniel]

Sam

‘I heard what you said,’ Sam said to Sassy. ‘It wasn’t very nice.’ He bent down and picked the rock up. With an easy flick of his wrist he sent it sailing through the branches of a nearby tree. ‘He is kind of stuck up and puffed up at times. But that’s just the way he is. Other times he’s a lot of fun. Got a lot of good ideas for games and such. Really sticks up for his friends in a pinch.’ He looked sideways at Sassy to see if she were listening at all. ‘Gotta take the good with the bad, don’t you?’

His stomach rumbled as if making a comment of its own. ‘Look . . . I’m not the greatest fellow either when I don’t get enough to eat. I can get really grouchy . . . really, really grouchy. I’m not very nice to be around. I’m a real pain. I know, ‘cause some of my friends have told me so. But they don’t turn their backs on me. They just tell me to knock it off . . . And throw me an apple or something, too,’ he grinned.

‘Come on over with me and say “hi”. Or if you can’t do that just come over with me and keep quiet if that’s what you want to do. Come on . . . you want to be part of the group . . . come on, Sassy . . .’

Sam ambled over to where Falco stood. He lifted his chin to the returnee and then nodded his head. ‘Glad you made it back, Falco.’ He looked to the right and left of Falco and grinned. ‘Didn’t bring anything good back to eat . . . did you?’

[Primrose Bolger]

Sassy wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t really like Falco . . . and for two very good reasons she thought. He didn’t like her and had wanted to send her back all by herself . . . and he was mean to Sondo. Sneakingly mean and outright mean, too. And despite what Sam had told her about Falco being a fun companion most of the time, she just couldn’t think how she might see him in this way.

On the other hand, she quite liked Sam. And she’d listened carefully to what he’d said to her.

Now he was walking toward Falco, having urged her to come with him. She scuffed her feet in frustration and chewed on the edge of her bottom lip as she watched his retreating back. ‘Go on Sass,’ she told herself. ‘You can hang behind Sam.’

Her little feet hurried to catch up with her friend. She hid behind him as he spoke with Falco, and once, when Falco glanced her way as Sam moved about, she nodded at him in a non-committal manner. Her face carefully neutral . . . or as neutral as a spirited little eleven year old girl can keep her expression. Sassy’s eyes flashed as Falco looked away, and he resumed talking once again to Sam. Careful to keep quiet she looked at him quite pointedly. ‘I’ve got my eye on you, Falco Brandybuck,’ she thought to herself. ‘Both of them! No matter what Sam thinks of you.’

[Nurumaiel]

Falco looked from Sam to Sassy. On the one hand, there was Sam, with a smile as kind as Bingo's had been. On the other hand, there was Sassy, and while her face showed no open emnity, he could guess exactly what she was thinking about him. And why shouldn't she? He had been rotten to her brother. That is to say, her brother had been rotten to him, so he had left.

There was a twinge of his conscience, and a realisation that he tried to stomp down. It was becoming plainer to him with each passing moment that he, Falco Brandybuck, had been the one in the wrong, and that it would be his duty to apologise. He would not apologise. He was not wrong.

He turned to Sam, smiling that faint smile once again, and this time it had a rueful look about it.

"I'm afraid I don't have any food, Sammy," he said. "Reggie and I ran out of food some time back, and even if there had been some food left... I lost my pack."

The tones in which he addressed Sam were very comradely. He had always been annoyed at the other lad's grouchiness, but since that first day when the hobbits were all sent floundering in the water, and Falco had pulled Sam out, and the latter had thanked him most graciously... well, Falco didn't feel quite so annoyed with Sam now. Least of all now, when he was giving him a warm, kind welcome!

As for Reggie... Falco had been fully intending to make Reggie feel his bitterness at the desertion by remaining coldly silent towards him, and every so often casting him reproachful glances, but Bingo's words had sent the plan from his mind. After all, Reggie had been the only one to follow him the first place. And they had been out of food.

Falco was not at all prepared to apologise, but he was feeling kind-hearted enough now to give a shaky smile and say: "It's nice to see you again, lads."

[Firefoot]

Sondo was taken slightly aback by how warmly Falco was received by the others. Sure, it was one thing to be friendly to him, but this? One would think Falco had been separated from them accidentally rather than striking off on his own, abandoning them all. Sondo said nothing, however; he did not care for another argument, and if he started it, they might side with Falco this time. What they would do, he wasn’t sure, but ultimately he wanted them united, and with him as leader. Still, he couldn’t help but wish that they were at least a little bit more hostile... like Sassy, he thought, noting his sister’s attitude. While not openly unfriendly, she was certainly the least welcoming of the bunch. Falco had noticed it, too, as had some of the others. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He had an idea.

He put a scowl on his face and directed it at Sassy, as if annoyed with her for not being more welcome. It was easy enough - he had plenty of practice being angry with her. “Sassy,” he said gruffly, “Come with me for a moment.” He didn’t say it loudly, but sometimes the lower voice drew more attention. He knew the other hobbits had heard, whether they acknowledged it or not. For a moment Sondo thought Sassy would refuse (how like her! he thought. Just when I really need her.), but at a look from him she followed after.

A little ways away he murmured, “It’s an act. Play along.” He took her far enough so that he knew they were out of earshot, by not out of view. Everything about his posture and gestures would suggest he was giving her an upbraiding.

“Listen closely, Sassy,” he said softly. “I can tell you don’t trust Falco. Neither do I at this point, though they do, seemingly.” He gestured off towards them in case any were watching. “But I can’t act upon those mistrusts. It’s my job to keep them all together and get us home. But you - you’re ‘just’ the little sister that isn’t even supposed to be here in the first place. They probably expect a wrong word from you, and that mistrust doesn’t seem so out of place coming from you. They don’t pay as much attention to you; they’ll probably say things around you that they might not around me. I’m not so sure that Falco isn’t up to something - you may have noticed, he hasn’t apologized yet, or even said anything to me except the general greeting to everyone.” Sondo knew he was running a risk by confiding in Sassy like this, but based on the others’ reactions to Falco, he didn’t trust any of them with something like this. “I want you to keep an eye on Falco for me, let me know if he does anything that seems suspicious, okay? And, please, be discrete about it. If they suspect... just don’t draw attention. If you need to, wake me up during your watch at night. Okay?”

[Primrose Bolger]

As Sondo was talking to her, Sassy grew a little irritated. Here he was wanting her help and saying all the wrong things. Did he really think she wanted to be reminded that she was ‘just the little sister’ and that she wasn’t really supposed to be here at all. Sometimes he was so annoying!

The sincerity of his request did sink in as he talked on. And she began to soften a bit, because in her heart she agreed with him. Falco was a sneak, big rat. And she was going to keep her eye on him anyway. Her impish nature, however, was not going to let her agree to Sondo’s plan so readily. He was her big brother after all. And how many chances did she get to make him squirm a little. A mischievous twinkle glinted in her eyes as she raised her grimy face up to him.

‘Well . . . I could help you. ‘Cause you’re right, no one really takes too much notice of me. But . . . why should I help you?’ She put on a sour face and planted her hands on her hips. ‘What are you gonna do for me?’ She let him stew a bit, then threw out an offer.

Sassy pulled her little sling from her pocket. ‘You know . . . when we lost the raft and all got dunked in the river, I lost all my nice round stones for my sling. And we’ve been walking along so fast, I haven’t really had time to find many new ones.’ She pointed with her chin toward the area beyond their little camp. ‘Four eyes are better than two, Gran always says. And it wouldn’t take as long to get more stones if you came along.’ She looked up at him expectantly. ‘So . . . fair trade? You help me first, then I’ll help you . . .?’ She started toward the outskirts of their camp. ‘Come on!’

[Boromir88]

Day after day Rory continued to slowly plod on with the rest of the hobbits. Reggie and Falco were now back, like I didn't see that one coming, he thought to himself. Sondo may not be the best lad for the job, but he only saw Falco's attempt of leading, ending rottenly. It was not surprise, to Rory, when they both returned.

It seemed like weeks had gone by, but it was only a few days. The path was rough, and slow. Rory had not had a good meal since the first couple days of their journey. Everyone was counting on Sassy and Bingo to bring back some food for them, but so far, it's been little success. Rory had to count on whatever berries he could find, if any.

He then looked down at his shirt. It was so worn, and stained, he couldn't tell what color it was supposed to be. He tucked in his shirt, since his pants felt much bigger. Oh what I wouldn't give to be back at Brandy Hall again. Back in the warm beds, and waking up to the smell of bacon and fried eggs. He came back to reality. Just like the previous days before, he began to slowly trod on, barely being recognized.

[Kitanna]

Marroc was happy. All the Hobbits were together again. Reggie had returned first and now Falco. Marroc sincerly hoped they could all get along this time.

"Glad you came around, Falco." Marroc said patting him on the back. When Falco first left Marroc was annoyed at his arrogance, but seeing Falco standing there, looking tired and hungry, he thought how humbled the young hobbit looked.

It seemed Marroc was not the only one happy to see Falco. Bingo and Sam had greeted him with warm smiles. It was Sassy who was the most annoyed with Falco's return. She probably still saw him as a traitor. She had every right to, but Marroc hoped that her mistrust subsided soon.

Sassy had been pulled aside by Sondo. He was giving her a little talk, no doubt about her attitude toward Falco.

Marroc looked away from the brother and sister and back to Falco. "You should rest a bit Falco, you look too tired to stand."

[Crystal Heart]

Sam smiled, but he could see that Falco was not his regular self. He placed a hand upon the young hobbit's arm and looked at him concerned.

"You should really rest. You do not look well, Falco. Are you alright?" Sam asked concerned.

Sam's mind whirled with memories. He was unsure if everything had truly had, but he realized that this journey had changed him. Changed him in such a way that he would never be the same again. He owed everything to this journey and he was truly, deeply thankful that he had taken this journey with these hobbits. To him they would always be his closest friends, united through this journey's bond. Sam had never felt a feeling like it in all of his life.

[Firefoot]

Sondo ground his jaw in irritation. He should have expected that she might try to bargain with him. He knew she had a point though; there really wasn’t anything in it for her. He did need her, however, so he nodded in resignation to her request.

“Deal,” he agreed. “But hang on, Sassy, I’m supposed to be scolding you here.” He winked. “Try to act like I told you to be nice to Falco, whether you would listen to that advice or not...” He sighed. She could be so difficult. “And I can’t exactly help you look for stones right now - it would look pretty bad if I yelled at you and then helped you.” He expected her to see the sense in that. She was young, but smart enough. Too smart for her own good. My own good, he thought ruefully.

He took a step to go after her back to the others when he halted abruptly, frowning. He heard voices, and not hobbit voices either, or he was a Dwarf. He glanced over his shoulder uneasily. The people the voices belonged to were hidden by a broadly sloping hill. He was thankful for that. It meant they couldn’t see the hobbits either. He would bet that they had heard them though, and they didn’t sound like nice voices.

“Sassy,” he whispered urgently, “go tell the others to be quiet." He would have told them to hide, too, except there wasn’t anywhere to hide, unless he counted the occasional hill or the distant tree cover. “I hear someone, over behind that hill. I’m going to find out what’s going on.” He hurried off toward the slope, keeping low as he ascended. He lay flat upon reaching the top, poking his head up so he could see. What he saw worried him.

There were four of the Big Folk down there. No, five, Sondo corrected himself as he saw another approaching from the left. Had he not been so concerned, he might have been fascinated - he had never seen any Big Folk before. The shortest of them was probably twice his own height, and all of them were burly and rather muscular looking. Their hair was dark, their skin tan. But their looks were not what caught Sondo’s immediate attention. They had supplies! Currently, they seemed to have stopped for lunch, same as the hobbits had been about to do. The difference was that they actually had food (they seemed to be cooking a stew of some kind) - and plenty of it, judging by the lumpy saddlebags on their horses, which seemed quite large to Sondo, being used to short, sturdy ponies as he was. His stomach rumbled at the thought of a square meal, and he began to wonder if there wasn’t some way to filch some food off of them, be it steal or otherwise.

“They should prove easy to catch,” the approaching one was saying. “They look young, and mostly unarmed. There’s somewhere between five and ten of ’em.” Sondo winced. They had been not only heard but also seen by these horrible Big Folk! How had they been so careless as not to know of them before? What was more, these men seemed intent on capturing them! Just why, Sondo was unable to figure out, and once the fifth man got close enough to the others, their voices got quieter and Sondo couldn’t discern the words. Hastily, he edged away from the top of the hill and upon reaching the bottom he sprinted off toward the others. What could they do? They would not get very far if they tried to run, because of the men’s horses. The men knew they were there; where could they go? Besides... he wanted some of their food.

Despite the situation, Sondo could not be more happy with the challenge. These were the type of problems he was deft at figuring out, the types of plans he might cook up at home. By the time he had reached the group, he had a sketchy plan worked out. Most of them would stay up here and act as the ‘bait’ for the men. Sondo never even considered that some of them might be caught; the men were bigger, but Big Folk were just that: big and clumsy and probably not so smart. A few, however, would sneak down there, and when the Big Folk came after the ones left, those couple would get into their supplies and take what they needed. Then they would just have to escape. He grinned wickedly to himself. This was what adventurers were supposed to do! (Though perhaps they usually went after gold and not food, he amended to himself, and banished the thought.)

Upon reaching the group, he quickly explained the problem, telling them about the Big Folk and their supplies and horses, and how they wanted to capture them. He did not, however, explain his plan, or even say that he had one. He wanted to hear their ideas first, then spring his idea, because otherwise he might risk the whole of them going against him. With Falco recently returned, he wanted that not at all. “The biggest problem,” he finished, “is that they know we’re here, and our situation. If we try to run away, they’d probably find us pretty quick on their horses. And there really isn’t much place to hide around here. So now we have to figure out what to do.”