The Long Winter RPG

[Nurumaiel]

"I'm going to need help," Branda muttered to himself. He turned to where Dinodas was kneeling next to Robin. "Dinodas, lad! Do you have any healing skills?"

Dinodas looked up. "Some, sir," he said. "I can clean and bandage a wound well enough, and I can learn more, besides taking orders willingly."

"I'll need you to help me, then."

The hobbit lad's face took on a strange look, like he was being torn in two. "Oh, Branda, sir, I would indeed wish to help, but I may be needed elsewhere with my bow."

Branda smiled gently at him. "I think the worst of the battle is over," he said. "These hobbits need your help more than anyone right now."

"Yes, sir," Dinodas said, setting his jaw. "What can I do first?"

Daffodyl looked down at her leg. The blood was still coming through the bandage, at it was starting to hurt. Now that she had been warmed up and was no longer numb all over, pain returned to her.

"Hello, Daffodyl," said Dinodas. "I guess I'd better change that bandage on your leg." He unwound the old bandage, soaked with blood, and tossed it aside. Then he cleaned the wound out carefully and bandaged it up. "Hurt?" he asked softly.

Daffodyl nodded. "But I don't mind. I'm worried about Emerald."

"Me too," Dinodas said, and he looked over at the seriously hurt hobbit lass. "I hope she comes through."

"I hope so too," Daffodyl said. "Branda is worried about her."

Dinodas wanted to say, "He should be," but he didn't want to frighten Daffodyl. The chances of Emerald living were very slim, and Daffodyl didn't need to hear that right now. So instead he just said softly, "I've known miracles to happen," and began bandaging Daffodyl's arms.

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Lotho sat back dully. He didn't have the strength to shiver. He didn't like to show or tell anyone of his unusual lack of strength. He was thin and light, hardly strong like the rest of the hobbits and brought up to be a businessman, not a farmer. He had used a lot of energy bringing Emerald over here and for what? The poor lass didn't look as if she was going to survive. Lotho secretly knew it in his heart, but didn't wish to voice his opinion. The last thing they needed was for more of these young 'uns to lose heart and even pass away themselves.

He looked at Daffodyl. She was a typical young hobbit; full of hope that Emerald would survive. He just managed to stop himself from snorting with derision and closed his eyes as fatigue swept over him. Waves of irresistible sleep broke over him and he drifted into a light sleep.

[Losthuniel]

OOC: I'm backtrcking a bit, FYI.
---------------------------------------

Celandine shivered inside her cloaks. The air was cold, and the going slow. Many hobbits were having trouble withthe snow, knee deep in drifts and hampered by heavy clothing. Celandine was mounted on Catcher, and leading her other pony, Cockleshell. Catcher was fascinated by the snow, and kept sticking his nose in it and snuffling around.Celandine smiled through the cold. Very little could dampen Catcher's spirits. Cockleshell, however, was a very different matter. She kept tugging on her lead rein,and prancing about upset and even more unpleasant than usual.Celandine looked down at the other hobbits, wading through the snow. Perhaps I should offer one of them a rideShe thought.

"Let's break for lunch," Bullroarer cried over the howl of the wind. "Start a fire over there." As hobbits rushed for the tarps, Emerald, Gaddy and Daffodyl went to get wood for a fire.

Celandine swung down, wincing as her frozen toes connected solidly with the ground.

She froze, as a terrible howling reached her ears.
What's that", Branda blurted out.

"It's howling. Maybe the wargs have come." Dinadas ventured wih fear in his eyes.

Bullroarer turned to face the group. "Whatever it is, we need to find out, and fast. Grab your weapons. Now!"

Celandine hurried to comply, and grabbed her bow, hurrying to string it as she hopped along after the others.

She gasped, as she saw the predicament. The three wood gatherers were surrounded by a pack of snarling, slavering dogs.

Following her first instinct, Celandine shimmied up a tree,partly to make sure she herself did not get injured, and partly to get a better vantage point for shooting.

The tree was completly stripped of leaves, and it made climing easier. She swore as a large splinter decided to take up residence in her palm. But at least it wasn't her shooting hand.

She nocked an arrow to her bow, and watched carfully as a target presented itself. The pain in her hand made her aim unsteady, but the arrow did not miss altogether. it struck the beast in the shoulder.
Celandine fired arrow after arrow. Some found their mark, some went wide. All the while, the splinter was digging deeper and deeper into her palm.

Celandine reached for an arrow, but found she had used them all up. the hobbits were rushing back to the road, and Celandine very nearly fell out of the tree, and ran after them.

She stumbled back into camp, and was shocked to see Emerald, Daffodyl, Robin and Gaddy all wounded. Celandine, overtaken by exhaustion, curled up by the fire and fell asleep

[dragoneyes]

Gaddy watched the hobbits come into the makeshift shelter one by one, some of them fell asleep, some of them sat, looking tired and worried. Gaddy couldn't bring himself to look at Emerald, only her face was showing but it was deathly pale, Gaddy couldn't do with that now.

Gaddy's own legs were covered in blood, he seeming to be the least injured, the cut were many but they were shallow and only on his legs, unlike Daffodyl who had a nasty scratch on her face and Robin who's arm seemed to have her hand bandaged up.

Dinodas came over to see Gaddy now,
"Hello Gaddy, I'll be seeing to your cuts while we stop here." Gaddy just smiled back and nodded, too tired to do anything else.
"Why don't you lie down?" said Hal who was sitting next to Gaddy. Gaddy nodded and allowed Hal to help him lie down, Hal's strong grip was reassuring and he folded up his jacket and placed it under Gaddy's head.

Dinodas began cleaning Gaddy's various scratches, cuts and bruises, carefully bandaging each one. Gaddy relaxed and looked around for something to take his mind off the dull throbbing in his legs.

Laying next to him was Daffodyl and next to her was Robin, Dinodas was busy out of Gaddy's sight. Hal was sitting next to Gaddy and beyond him Branda was tending to Emerald. Away in the corner was Lotho and curled up asleep next to the fire was Celandine with Daisy sitting next to her. Gaddy looked around again, someone was missing, who was it? Gaddy tried hard to get his sleepy brain to work. He sat up quickly and looked around again, he counted everyone frantically, there were only ten of them there Hal was looking at Gaddy confused, then it suddenly clicked,
"Where's Bullroarer?" he blurted out.

"Don't worry Gaddy, he's just gone outside to check on the ponies, don't get yourself so worked up about nothing." said Hal soothingly, pushing Gaddy back down.
"You're sure about that?"
"Yes, now get some rest, you're in no condition to be worrying about other hobbits, leave that to me." Gaddy had meant to protest more but sleep took over his body so soon he had no time to think about anything more.

Hal looked on his young friend, he hated lying to him like that, but he didn't have a choice, Gaddy needed his rest. Hal shook his head, there was more pressing bussiness to attend to, he stood up,
"Everyone." he said. Looking around he could see how tired all the other hobbits were, "Bullroarer has not returned, I am going out to look for him." with that, and with no heed to any of the others' protests
he grabbed his cloak and walked out from under the shelter into the biting wind.

"Bullroarer! Brandobras! Where are you?" he yelled into the wind. He searched on stumbling back towards the place where the dogs had first attacked. He was sure in his direstion and he saw a dead dog, lying next to it, on his back was Bullroarer, Gazing into the sky.

"Bullroarer!" cried Hal joyously, he ran up to Bullroarer and knelt down next to him, "I've found you at last!" Hal looked at Bullroarer lying in the snow, "Are you alright to walk?"
"Should be." he said with a vague smile.
"Come on then." said Hal, slowly Helping Bullroarer up.

They started walking slowly together, a little too slowly.
"You should've brought someone else along with you, we could be moving a lot quicker."
"I know, but they were all so tired." Bullroarer strove on but Hal could see that it was hurting him. He stumbled and would've fallen had Hal not been there so Hal decided to get him to the camp quicker because he was shivering and cold to the touch.

They started moving faster, but Bullroarer couldn't keep up. Hal ended up half dragging, half lifting Bullroarer back to the shelter.

They finally made it back, they were met by Branda who had a blanket, he threw it over Bullroarer and together, Branda and Hal carried him inside and lay him on the ground.

[ December 07, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[ December 07, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[piosenniel]

‘It’s cold.’ he thought. ‘Or it should be, I suppose.’ He looked up at the grey skies and felt the hard ground beneath him. The snowy crust he lay on had melted and its wetness began to seep through his cloak and clothes. His left shoulder ached where the dog’s body had hit him, and a sharp pain coursed through it as he tried to move now. He gasped, trying desperately to sit up. His head throbbed from the impact it had endured when he fell.

‘No use!’ he murmured to himself, his eyes fluttering closed, as he laid back down. ‘I’ll just lie here, for just a moment . . . I’m so tired . . . so very tired . . .’

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

It seemed a long time he lay there. Then came the words from somewhere above him. 'I know that voice.' he said, forcing his eyes to open and focus on the Hobbit which had now knelt down beside him.

'Hal! That's who it is!

The trip back to where Branda and the other Hobbits were was a painful one. His head ached, and a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder with each step. Helped into the wagon, his eyes fell on the still form of Emerald and he gasped when he saw her still, white form, barely breathing.

'No!' he cried.

His last thoughts, as he felt himself tucked into the shelter of the wagon, were that he must tell Branda just to stabilize his collarbone with his belt.

Then darkness took him once again . . .

[ December 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Their muzzles were stained darkly from their feed and stood out in stark contrast with the monochrome world that surrounded them. The hunger of the Wargs had been abated for the present.

Nimue, the young she-wolf ran her tongue across her gore stained lips and looked at Ragarok. The falling snow camouflaged him well as it caught in his coat and the wind forced his thick fur to move in waves. He shook a heavy head, whether in dispair or more likely discomfort at the snow, there was no telling. There was nothing left for them in their own lands.

The young wolves, their blood-spattered state at odds with their almost downy coats, frolicked about Nimue for a few moments enjoying full stomachs for the first time in several days. Their energy soon wained and they lay around her; panting.

The other wolf wandered away from them. Not so far as to become detatched from all that remained of a once flourishing pack but far enough to let Ragnarok know that something was amiss.

Daylight had long since broken through the cloud and the snow began to ease. The wind never ceased. Ragnarok looked up into the sky and growled to himself. He barked sharply at them. It was time to move.

Their territory may be empty of food but he knew of other places where, at high risk, it could still be obtained. He was going to leave. If the others followed, so be it. If they died along the way with him, it would spare him from hunting. He had alerted them of his departure and he expected to be obeyed.

He shook the snow off his shoulders, raised his head and sought a scent upon the wind. He nodded to himself, resigned to whatever the endless Winter had in store for him. Ragnarok turned away from the other Wargs and began to tread silently through the snow in search of prey.

[Alkanoonion]

Racing back to the Whitfurrows Carl hoped that he could find signs of Giles and Autumn. If not he would find the rest of the party and continue the journey with them, after all Giles and Autumn where skilled trackers and could take care of themselves.

Carl was feeling pensive; the events of the day had been a shocking reminder to Carl that life was short and always surprising. Looking about his surroundings Carl kept his bow nocked with an arrow, ready for any Wargs or game that crossed his path. Looking about Carl saw some new tracs in the snow. They were fresh. As fresh as the still falling snow. Dismounting his pony Carl tied her to a tree branch and proceeded to investigate.

The tracks looked to be only minutes old and looked canine in origin but the snow had partially covered them up so Carl was unsure. Gripping his bow Carl looked around studying his surrounding. Immediately in front was the road to Whitfurrow, Still partially covered with snow and debris from the storm that swept through the night before. There was no sign of life. To his right was the dense frozen nightmare forest, which he had passed before on his way north. To his left the trees looked more inviting, offering Carl and his pony shelter for the night if they needed. He wished he could take advantage of the inviting spot, but he still had much to do. Forcing his wiry body to rise from the stiff crouch he had used to examine the snow Carl commenced with a thorough examination of the surrounding area.

Following the tracks Carl could see that it was a lone beast perhaps the Wolfs mate who he had humanly dispatched with before. He tried to follow the tracks but the soft falling crystals soon swallowed them up. As the tracks slowly disappeared so did the suspicion that Carls was mistaken. Those tracks were leading Carl southward, towards Whitfurrow. This could only mean bad news. Running back to his pony Carl gathered up his belongings and quickly made for Whitfurrow. If it was as the tracks had suggested a wolf, it was being draw towards the settlement. In these hard times only one thing would attract a wolf towards an inhabited settlement. Wolves did not go towards settlements unless drawn by great need or food, and even then only at night. It was still daylight, too early for a wild creature to risk discovery. It had to be something powerful to draw a fully-grown and experience wolf into the town. There was only one force strong enough, that Carl knew of which would do this. Fresh blood.

Racing back Carl could no longer find traces of the tracks, now fully concealed by the cold snow. He did not need them. He now knew were he must go, and he prayed that he was wrong in what he expected to find once he got there.

…………………………………………….

He had been wrong! The wolf had bypassed Whitefurrow. Carl continued on travelling back to rejoin the party of hobbits. Despite the hour and the snow falling around them, Carl Spurring his pony on to greater speed. It was getting late. Carl hoped he would find them soon.

Fatigue was setting in; Carl had spent the night searching for the party. As dawn chased away the last lingering affects of the snow and of the darkness an erri calm settled over the land.

Dismounting his pony Carl fell to the ground as fatigue finally overcame his resolve to continue. Forcing himself to raise Carl noticed under his nose a fresh set of Wolf tracks; in his stupor he had stumbled across the tracks of the same wolf he had tried to track the previous evening. Although tired, Carl felt a thrill of excitement run through his feeble body, energising him. He needed to continue tracking the wolf.

Carl could see him. A gaunt starving beast that looked to be on its last legs, relying only on instinct to kept it going. The wolf looked to be circling something but not stopping to find out Carl Drew his Bow and let fly with a shaft striking the Wolf cleanly and dropping it. Carl ran up to the dropped Wolf and finished it off with his dagger. He would have left the carcass but his need for food was just as great so picking up the carcass Carl laid it over his pony’s back. Cal could now see what the Wolf was after. The ground was littered with the blood of a wild Dog. Its carcasses lay nearby half frozen in the snow.

Rising Carl investigated the area. From the look of it their had been a battle. This battel looked to have been a fierce one. The snow was littered with more evidence of blood. Carl suspected that the blood was not just that of the dog’s. There was just too much of it. Reading the evidence upon the snow Carl could distinguish that more than one dog, and many Hobbit prints were all jumbled together, as if each being had competed with the other to destroy each other’s foot print. The only word that came to mind as Carl explored this jumble was ‘chaos’.

‘What has happen here?’

Leading away from the scene were cart tracks. Curious and fearful of what he might find Carl continued to track the snow, but now it was the marks of a cart he followed and not that of a wild animal.

It was early morning when Carl was about 4 miles from Whitfurrows. In the distance Carl could hear the sound of hobbits crying and he could see a temporary shelter.

[ December 07, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

[ February 14, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda crouched by the campfire, tightly hedged in between the other hobbits, taking a bite to eat and letting his thoughts drift lazily over the events of the day. It was the first time he'd gotten a rest in many, many hours. He was eating a cup of fish stew that Daisy had brewed up from some of the provisions that Stoney had carried. With all they'd been through, they at least needed to eat a good hot supper.

When Hal had first brought in the cold and sleepy Bullroarer, Branda had quickly seen from his patient's grimace of pain that his collar bone needed to be stabilised to make sure it would heal properly. Branda had finished with that, and then concentrated on using wraps and heated stones to bring life and warmth back into Bullroarer's chilled body. Now, the massive hobbit snored contentedly beside the fire, his face relaxed and his color gradually returning.

Thank goodness that Bandobras was built more like an ox than a normal hobbit! Anyone else who'd been out in that bitter cold for such a long time would probably not have survived. His strength and resilience had somehow brought him through. Branda suspected they'd need even more of that in the days to come.

With Bandobras temporarily unable to act as the leader, Branda had taken on that responsibility himself, although relying heavily on the advice and counsel of the others in the band. Hal and Lotho and Dinodas had proven especially helpful. They were only about three or four miles from Whitfurrows, but there was no possibility of going on that night. They'd have to see tomorrow how the others were doing, before they made any other decisions.

Hopefully, by the morning, Bullroarer would have recovered enough to be back in the lead, even if he'd have to be a bit more careful with that broken collar bone. Gaddy, and Daffodyl and Robin were weak, but all doing much better. As long as their wounds healed cleanly, they should be just fine in a day or two.

Gaddy might be up and about tomorrow, and could probably ride one of the ponies. Robin and Daffodyl were probably safer in the wagon, but could continue their journey down the road, especially if the weather held, with no further surprises or snowstorms. More disturbing was the fate of Emerald. Her condition had changed little since she'd first been brought to the shelter.

There was little conversation over supper, with most hobbits falling asleep shortly after the first star appeared in the sky. Hal agreed to take the first watch, tending the fires to keep them going, and making sure there were no unwanted guests. He sat just outside the tarp, clutching a large stone and coming in to warm his hands and drink some hot tea every now and again, then going out again. They rotated the watch, with Celandine and Daisy taking the later rounds.

Branda sat up alone with Emerald, searching vainly for some way to pull the girl from the jaws of death. For the hundredth time, he felt her forehead and listened to her heartbeat. He had tried herb after herb, but even the athelas seemed to do little to help.

Hour after hour passed with no visible change. It was the deepest part of the night. Branda was sitting up and half dozing, when a strange voice inside his head urged him to awaken. He looked over to check on Emerald. The girl lay, still and small, her face as white as the nearby snowdrifts because of her loss of blood. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. They glittered bright, like the stars above, clear and piercing. There was no confusion or uncertainty in them.

Branda cradled her body in his arms and leaned over to listen. "I am going now," Emerald whispered. Tell my family I love them." The words came harder now. "I'm not sorry for having done this. Tell the others.....the best way of remembering me is to find Rivendell and save our people. Give me your word, Branda, you'll do that."

"I promise, Emerald. I swear to you we'll get through." Branda squeezed Emerald's hand in reassurance.

He saw she had closed her eyes. She had a look of peace and contentment. He heard a few breaths come jagged and hard, and then they halted. Branda lowered her limp body gently back onto the ground and covered her with a blanket. Then he sat alone and cried a very long time. No reason to wake the others till morning. There was nothing anyone could do.

When he'd wiped away his tears, Branda lay down next to Emerald's still form and went to sleep. He dreamed of a hobbit girl, a lass with a curly head who was awake and alert and running across a field, with a determined smile on her face. Sometimes the girl in his dreams looked and sounded like Emerald, and sometimes she looked a lot like his own little daughter Peony whom he'd kissed goodbye just the day before.

[ December 08, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Giles was not happy with having one of his legs tied to one of Autumn's so they wouldn't get lost. No, not happy at all.

Autumn stood as tall as her shortness permitted, hands on hips. "Look here, Giles. No dog, wolf, warg, not even a dragon, will see us nor smell us in this mess of snow!"

The whiteout from the snow was so bad that the trees at the side of the road vanished into dazzling blindness. Only a white void hemmed you in, in every direction. A shivering wind brought clumps of snow from unseen overhanging branches crashing down on top of their hooded heads.

Giles nodded glumly, frowning. He'd tied them together, but secretly fingered the hilt of a knife in his pocket. At the first sign of an enemy, that rope was getting cut. No matter what.

When they stopped to rest around a sputtering fire and meal of pan-fried bread and water, Giles untied the rope with fingers red and raw from the cold. He'd had quite enough togetherness, thank you very much. Though not a creature was in sight, he feared getting tangled up defenseless in a ropeful of snapping warg jowls. "The wind is less now, Autumn. And I'm too much of a gentle-hobbit to run away and abandon you if wolves come. If I need to fight, I need to be able to move freely."

At last they bumped into a mailbox. Giles walked into the pole, causing the snow to fall away from the top and sides of the mailbox. The pole underneath remained buried in its forlorn snowdrift. His hands throbbing like icicles about to break off, Giles used his cloak to brush away snow from the nameplate. "Sandheaver. Hmph, they should change their name to Snowheaver in this weather! But Autumn, we've reached Whitfurrows! My cousins live two holes away!" Giles flung his arms up in the air and did a few dance steps until he slipped on a patch of ice.

"Should I throw you a rope?" smiled Autumn.

"Yes. You should," smiled Giles.

Autumn tossed him the end of the rope. Giles grabbed it, and pulled Autumn down into the snow. Both Hobbits laughed.

[ December 07, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Calenedheliel]

Daisy was taking her turn at standing watch and it was snowing again. It was very cold and lonely outside the makeshift camp. She couldn’t stop thinking about the attack this afternoon. What had happened had frightened her senseless for a while, but mostly it made her feel useless. She tried to help fight the dogs with her slingshot but it didn’t seem to help at all. The dogs just kept attacking Emerald, Daffodyl, Robin, and Gaddy. It was the bloodiest and most violent thing she had every seen. When it was finally over, many of the hobbits were hurt and all of the dogs were dead. Knowing that they were dead didn’t make Daisy feel and safer or less scared. She hadn’t even noticed that Bullroarer was missing until Hal brought him into camp. He was hurt pretty badly but it looked like he would be okay.

She got up from her post and went inside to warm up for a few minutes. She noticed Branda looking at Emerald very intently. The tears in his eyes told the whole story. Emerald was gone. Not knowing what to do Daisy went back outside to continue her watch. She looked out at the black moonless night with tears running down her face feeling guilty for not being able to do more during the attack. She thought about how it could have been any of them or all of them if there had been enough dogs attacking, which made her shudder with fear. “How would the rest of the hobbits take the news of Emerald’s passing?” she thought. It was going to devastate everyone.

She was tired but wasn’t sure that she would be able to sleep because she couldn’t keep the images of the attack out of her mind. She decided when it was time she would go in and lay down next to Gaddy. She hoped that he could forgive her for not being able to help him earlier. She almost lost him before she really gotten to know him better. She thought she was going to die when she saw him being attacked. He was here now and safe and if she had her way she would find a better way to help in the protection of the group. It would mean fashioning some new type of weapon and she would talk to Bullroarer about it as soon as he was well enough.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Carl stood at the entrance to the temporary shelter, looking about with dismay. When he had volunteered to act as a scout, he'd assumed that, if there was danger or death, he'd be the one facing it, not the main party of hobbits. But it was clear that what happened here was much harsher than anything he'd seen on the road.

Branda had taken Emerald's body, gently wrapping it in a blanket. There was a very large wooden container attached to the back of the wagon that was sometimes used to haul extra supplies. He'd cleaned that out and placed the body inside the open chest. It was so cold outside that there was no need to think of any other means of preservation.

Carl walked over to pay his respects to Emerald. How young she looked! It seemed so unfair. He glanced over at Branda who was securing extra ropes on the chest, and said in a sad voice. "Maybe I should have stayed here, instead of going off to scout. My skill with weapons might have made a difference."

The Stoor placed his hand on Carl's shoulder and shook his head. "Don't say that. You did what you were asked to do. No one could read the future. Just look at Bullroarer. He's the best fighter we have, and he's lying inside injured."

"Do all the hobbits know yet?" Carl asked.

"The ones who've woken, yes, but some are still sleeping. Especially those who were bitten by the dogs."

Carl sighed, "My scouting report can wait till later. There wasn't anything so urgent that we need to talk about it now." Branda shook his head in agreement.

"What do you think we should do now?" Carl questioned.

"It's Bullroarer who should decide. Not me. But I do think we could travel, even starting off at mid-day. Everyone's well enough to move the few miles down the road to Whitfurrows. If we're lucky, we'll find shelter in a hobbit hole. That would be no small thing."

"Plus Dinodas and I still need to go fishing in the Water after we get there. Whether or not we like it, life goes on, and we need to find food if we're going to survive."

Branda started to walk away, but then turned back to add one more thing. "You know, Carl, when Emerald died, she was very peaceful. She only had two things to say. She wanted to tell her family she loved them, and she begged me to promise we'd make it to Rivendell. I promised, and I don't break a promise like that. I'm going to get through if I have to go all alone on foot. I swear I will."

Carl looked at him and shook his head in agreement, "So will I, Branda, so will I."

By mid-morning, the tale of that promise had spread round to every hobbit in the camp.

[ December 08, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Midday . . . Bullroarer sat up, his head still pounding, and took stock of what had happened. The dogs were dead; he was sure of that. He hunched forward, thinking to stretch the tight muscles in his back causing a sharp pain to course through his left shoulder.

‘Nice job!’ he murmured to himself as his right hand found the splint Branda had improvised to keep his shoulder stabilized. His fingers probed the area of his collar bone, and he winced when he pushed on the bump where the bone had fractured. The swelling didn’t indicate a complete break and he thanked his lucky stars for that. He would mend soon and easily provided there was no more insult to the bone.

His head continued to pound, and he got himself up, thinking to find some willow-bark tea to quiet it. He stood gingerly and walked toward where the group stood, huddled about a small fire for warmth. Their faces were pale, and drawn, and on many cheeks were the frozen tracks of tears. ‘Think, Bullroarer!’ he said to himself. ‘What has happened?’ He looked at the gathered companions, noting that the two scouts were still gone. But, one other of the Hobbits who should have been there was missing. ‘Emerald!’ A brief remembrance of her lying in the wagon, being tended by Branda, came to him. A flash of understanding came to him. He gasped at it.

Branda turned, seeing him up now, a look of concern on his face. ‘Are you hurting, Bullroarer?’ he asked, coming up to him, a look of concern on his face.

The Took’s face was somber, and he shook his head ‘no’. Drawing Branda aside, he asked what had been done with Emerald’s body. He nodded as Branda told him of her passing and of her dying thoughts. Taking Branda’s arm, he walked with him back to the small fire, and called for the companions’ attention.

‘I have just learned that our friend, Emerald Burrows, has died.’ This simple statement drew the looks of all those gathered. ‘I will miss her further companionship on this journey and her no nonsense spirit.’ He paused for a moment, looking hard at the small flames of the fire as they blazed bravely against the cold. He looked about those gathered, holding each gaze with his.

‘We will take a few moments to remember her in our thoughts and say good-bye, and then we will press on as she wished us to do.’ A look of great sadness passed across his features, as he stood there, head bowed.

Some few moments passed, then he bent to the ground, picking up a handful of snow and earth and flung it on the fire saying softly, ‘Farewell.’ When all the others had done the same, the fire put out, he gathered the ones who were too weak to walk and put them in the wagon.

Slowly they trudged the few miles down the road to Whitfurrows . . .

[ December 08, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Losthuniel]

Celandine sobbed into her hands,tears freezing even as they were born. She felt very small and alone. She and Emerald had been put together, under the care of Branda. They hadn't gotten to know each other very well, but the hobbit lass still felt Emerald's passing acutley.

After waking up to be met by Branda's grim face, Bullroarer injured, and Emerald's passing, Celandine had crumpled into a sobbing heap. Many others did the same, as they too awoketo the grim news.

Celandine felt very alone. Even though she and Emerald had not been close, another female presence had been comforting, trudging along behind Branda in the snow. Celadine, with the exeption of her cousin, had always been very shy with anyone of the Male persuasion.

Wiping her near-solid tears, Celandine rummaged through her pack. She regretted the cold winter, for there were no flowers with which to honour Emerald. Digging through her pack for her mittens, a little yellow flower fell into her lap. Celandine smiled through her tears. Anston knew she wsa going to go along, and had slipped her namesake into her pack, to bring her luck. The flower was dried, and slightly crushed from being in her pack, but it was something.

Creakily getting to her feet, Celandine shuffled through the snow, and quietly laid the single blossom on Emerald's breast. She bowed her head in sorrow, as icy tears dropped onto the white snow.

[dragoneyes]

Gaddy was riding Daisy's pony so as to not take up any more space in the wagon, he was very stiff and he ached, his arms, his legs, and his heart. He had never experienced someone dying before. Hal walked next to him, with his warm hand on Gaddy's foot, Gaddy was glad he had someone whom he knew with him.

Hal was staring at the ground, bleary eyed all that he could see was the white world, so pure, and yet so deadly. His train of thought moved onto Emerald's last words and the promise Branda had made to her on behalf of the entire group, then it went onto the scouts who had gone ahead, they still had to be told and Hal sincerely hoped that he wasn't the one to have to tell them.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl sat quietly in the wagon, with her pony trotting beside. Her face was cold and frozen with tears. She felt the gash across her face, and looked at her bandaged foot, and swallowed hard.

She sat next to Robin in the wagon and said sadly to her: "I got out with an injured foot and a gash on my face, and Emerald didn’t get out alive. I am so lucky. I wish I had never left my little brother Gabe. I love him, and I know that he may not be there when I get back, if I come back." Robin patted her back with a slight reassuring smile. More slow tears dripped and froze on Dafodyl’s face, and she dug herself into the supplies on the wagon deeper, to try to warm her limp and frozen body.

[Thengise Greenleaf of Mirkwood]

Nimue slowly lifted herself up off of the cold snow upon hearing of their leave. She was filled with new energy, for the dead Warg had provided her with food she had not eaten in the longest of time. The small pups ran around her as she shook the snow from her blood-stained coat.

She looked out at the territory around them. It was but an empty land, bare of any food which they would need. It had been a deadly winter for the Wargs so far. At times Nimue would wonder how long they would last. She gave a downcast look at the pups.

They would not survive if they were to stay, yet perhaps they could provide them with the food they needed to get through their journey. After all, not all of the pups were hers. Some were those of Wargs who had already died, which meant they had weakness in their blood and would hardly be able to contribute to the pack. The only help thay could give was to feed the adults and her own pups.

Nimue called to the pups and to the other Warg as she began to follow Ragnarok in what would be a dangerous path. Still she knew it would provide them with the efficient food they needed.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Giles and Autumn were safe and warm inside the hole of Giles' cousin Fredegar, his wife Appleblossom, their four children, and Grandma Harfoot. Just outside the hole, flapping in the breeze high atop a pole above the snowbanks, flew a triangular red banner from a party pavillion. Giles thought the banner just the thing to let Bullroarer Took and the rest of his company know where shelter was. *

* Giles had bit back tears on seeing how thin and weak Grandma Harfoot looked, but everyone's joy on seeing each other overcame all else. Fredegar had shown Giles and Autumn where the stable was for the comfort of their pack ponies, so their foor-footed companions were fed and watered, as well as brushed and combed when the snow melted off their manes. The Hobbits then shared half a baked potato each for supper, each with half a pat of butter. *

Food is on its way, * Giles reassured his kin, * Not as much as when we come back from Rivendell, but soon there'll be fish on your table ... you're welcome to my portion of fish. And being a carpenter what's learned Dwarven lore, I'll make you a fine steel rabbit trap. Hopefully we'll catch one for stewing before I leave.

* Giles had gotten up from his table to poke his head out the door every ten minutes to see where the rest of the company was. Finally, as Autumn helped Appleblossom and a daughter clean the dishes, the jostling clatter of a wagon could be heard. Autumn dropped her towel on a table, and joined Giles to run out waving and smiling to greet the group. *

* Everyone aboard the wagon was subdued. That was when Giles noticed the box hanging slightly over the wagon's edge at the back, firmly tied down. * Where's Emerald?

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer took Giles and Autumn aside, as Branda got the other Hobbits situated. He spoke to them in a low voice, explaining what had befallen the company. Autumn gasped at learning that Emerald had died. 'We are not even to the bounds of the Shire and already one of us lies dead! It cannot be!'

'It is so.' said Bullroarer. 'and I fear that there will be even greater dangers to beset us once we travel into more open country.'

Branda got the survivors situated in Fredegar's cozy home, while Bullroarer and the two scouts talked, and delegated the more sturdy of them to bring in food and other supplies from the wagons. Soon there was a good, thick stew simmering on the hob and the companions were beginning to regain their former color and relax a little. Once they had their bellies full, most of them sought out a place to bed down and crawled under covers to seek pleasant dreams.

Bullroarer sat by the dying embers of the fire with Giles and Fredegar and smoked a pipeful. Two of Fredegar's older sons had agreed to take Emerald's body back to her family along with a long note of condolence from Bullroarer. He agreed that they would receive a small sum of money for this unpleasant task and a place to stay at the Took House while they were there. Mrs. Took would also receive a note from him directing her to share a portion of their foods and supplies with the two boys to bring back to their family.

That somber business being done, they discussed what they would do tomorrow once the Hobbits were well rested. Branda could organize a fishing party, and Giles and a number of assistants could build that rabbit trap. Bullroarer himself would go out with Fredegar and put out some lines for hare and perhaps a few nets for birds.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until the last embers of the fire had gone out. Then, yawning widely, they bade each other good-night and went to seek their rest.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

Robin sat quietly in a chair, holding her bandaged arm and gazing into the flickering fire. Many of the others had already gone to bed, though some were still awake; yet Robin showed no signs of leaving the fire.

Dinodas watched her worriedly from across the room. She had been like that all day: not saying a word to anyone, just being lost in her own little world, looking as though she would never come out of it.

She's taking Emerald's death hard, I think, Dinodas thought. But, then again, aren't we all?

He stood up and walked over behind Robin’s chair, and laid a hand no her shoulder. She made no move. “Robin,” he said softly, sitting down next to her. “I know you’re taking Emerald’s death hard, but you’re starting to get me worried. You hardly took a bite at supper today.”

Robin did not answer.

“Please, Robin, say something,” Dinodas begged. “I’m more worried than you can imagine.”

Robin turned her face to Dinodas, and he saw that it was sad, but not sorrowful. She looked like… well… like he had always imagined the Elves looking like as their time to leave Middle-earth drew near.

“I feel so strange,” Robin said quietly, so the others in the room wouldn’t hear. “I can’t cry because I can’t believe Emerald is gone. I know she is, but I don’t know at the same time. I can’t explain how I feel, Dinodas.”

She turned away, and he looked at her gently. The more he looked at her, the more he thought of his sister, and of Emerald. Tears came to his eyes, and he hurriedly brushed them away, ashamed of almost crying with Bullroarer in the room. A quick glance at Bullroarer told him the great hobbit was looking at him, and his look almost seemed to say, “I know, Dinodas. I feel the same.”

Robin suddenly turned back to him, and her face was strange. “I know now,” she whispered. “She is gone.” And then she flung her arms around Dinodas’ neck and cried into his shoulder.

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl sat in a small wooden chair near the fireplace, trying to catch a little warmth. She yawned and closed her eyes, getting deep mental pictures of her quiet hobbit-hole. She opened her eyes and jumped when she heard Robin collapse with emotion on Dinodas’ shoulder. ‘She’s taking Emerald's death really hard,’ she said to herself.

Another sleepy yawn overtook her, and as she stood, little chair creaked. She stretched her weak hands over her head, and rubbed her eyes. "Goodnight Dinodas, Robin, Bullroarer." She smiled, and walked to one of the small bed like cots in a black and quiet corner.

She reached into her pack, and found the brush that her Father had traded off of someone at a tavern many a year before. The shining purple handle was now rusting and faded. She silently brushed her brown curls. With a deep sigh and a long look at the group, she laid her head down on the ground, and was quickly into a light but pleasant sleep.

[Child of the 7th Age]

The soft light of the sun was beginning to filter through the window as Branda awoke to begin his day. A few of the hobbits were stirring, while others slept on, pulling pillows and blankets over their heads to shut out the noises and sights of the morning.

Just outside the farmhouse, in the direction of the shed, Branda heard a cock crowing to herald the arrival of the new day. Yesterday, after they first arrived, he thought he'd heard the sound of hens scratching about to find a place to roost. Perhaps there were actually live chickens on the farm, and they might even get an egg or two. That would be close to a miracle. Branda couldn't remember the last time he'd seen eggs or a rasher of bacon. Best not get your hopes up, he thought.

Carl was already up and dressed. He slipped over towards Branda and knelt down beside the bed. "I found out something." he whispered, "Tomorrow is Daisy's birthday. She didn't want to tell anyone. She felt funny about it with all the sadness over Emerald. Should we do something, or just let it pass with everything that's happened?"

Branda thought a minute and then responded, "To my way of thinking, we'll never get through to Rivendell unless we get folk's spirits up. The grieving isn't going away in a day or two or even a month. Butwe've got to learn to do our grieving and our living at the same time. I'd say a quiet celebration wouldn't be a bad thing for tomorrow night before we leave."

"First make sure it's alright with Bullroarer. Then tell the farmer and see if he'll give us an egg or two to go towards a cake. I've got a little flour on Sandy's back, and you're welcome to use that. See if anyone wants to be in charge of pulling a special meal together."

"What will you do today?" Carl asked.

"Dinodas promised he'd go fishing with me. I should have gotten an earlier start, but I was just so tired. Anyways, I'm getting my lines and lures and axes together. Want to come along with us?"

Carl shook his head yes. "When are you heading out?"

"Soon after breakfast." Branda explained, "Let the others know then. They're welcome to come along. It's just two miles north of here. Have everyone carry a weapon, plus some strings and buckets to bring our catch back. If some of the others want to come, they can meet us down by the river as long as they come in groups of twos."

"One other thing. If Bullroarer approves, you'll want to tell the others about the special meal tomorrow night. They may want to make or find small mathoms to give to Daisy."

[piosenniel]

Bullroarer was up and out already when Carl went looking for him. He found the Bull (as he liked to think of him, but would never say out loud) looking under the seat of the Took wagon. A few muttered imprecations filled the air, mixed with the sounds of metal and wooden boxes being slid this way and that. ‘By the One! I know I put those here somewhere. Where can they be!’

Carl stepped up to the front of the wagon, and watched as the Bull, his head jammed under the seat, ran his fingers round all the nooks and crannies looking for something. Carl shuffled a bit in the snow, and cleared his throat, hoping to catch the other Hobbit’s attention. Finally, in desperation, he reached across and tapped the Bull on the shoulder. A decidedly ill-timed act, or so it proved.

It startled Bullroarer, and he jerked his head up quickly, bringing it into extreme contact with the underside of the wagon seat. He pulled out from under the seat muttering loudly and furiously, and raised his left arm to rub the back of his re-injured skull. A sharp jolt ran like a lightning bolt from his injured shoulder straight through to his back, and he doubled over, gasping with pain.

Carl stood there, his mouth open, gasping himself. He was in two minds at the moment, not knowing if he should stay and help the Bull, and possibly incur his wrath for causing all this, or just run back to the house while tears of pain clouded the other man’s vision. He opted for the first course, and stepped in bravely. ‘Bullroarer, let me help you!’ He assisted the Bull to a seat on a stacked up crate, and pressed a snow ball to the back of his throbbing head. ‘What else can I do?’ he asked, watching the other Hobbit still bent over in pain.

‘Just let me catch my breath . . . Carl, isn’t it?! And tighten up the buckle on that splint belt – there between my shoulder blades.’ Carl moved aside the Bull’s cloak and cinched the broad leather belt a little tighter, bringing the fractured collar bone into better alignment. A few minutes later, and the Bull’s ragged breathing had calmed itself, and color had returned to his pale face.

Bullroarer turned his head to Carl, taking the packed snow from him in his right hand, and asked him what it was that he had come out to tell him. The pains in both his head and shoulder were abating, and he took a deep breath, waiting for Carl to go on.

‘Well, sir, Branda and I wanted to talk with you about having a birthday party for Daisy. I found out it’s tomorrow, and we thought a little bit of celebration would lighten all our spirits. Branda wanted me to run it by you, first.’

‘Consider it run, Carl. It’s a great idea! Will you organize for us? And better yet – let’s make it a surprise party.’ He stood thinking for a moment. ‘I’ll tell you what – I’ll take Daisy out with me early tomorrow. She can bring her sling and we’ll do a little hunting. You and the others can get everything organized – bake a cake. We do have flour and all don’t we? And perhaps a few mathoms can be found to give her at the party.’

‘I do happen to know that Daisy is quite fond of flowers. Do you think you could get, oh say, Hal and Gaddy to hunt up some snowbells and maybe a little holly for a bouquet. We can surprise her tomorrow when she and I return.’

‘Why don’t you spread the word quietly today, and everyone can start planning what they want to do.’ He walked back over to the wagon, and ran his right hand beneath the seat cushion this time. ‘There they are! My rope snares and birding net traps! Now I remember I put them there to keep them dry and untangled!’

He turned, traps in hand, to Carl, and said, ‘In fact, send Daisy out to me this morning – we’ll hike out a ways and set some traps. See what we can scare up for dinner. You can get busy with the plans.’ Bullroarer waved off Carl and stood humming happily to himself as he straightened out nets and snares.

Carl went in to find Daisy.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Calenedheliel]

Carl found Daisy in the house and told her to go out to Bullroarer. She looked up at him all confused. She had been in her own little world thinking about Emerald. Her birthday would never be the same because she would always think about Emerald dying so close to it.

"Do you know what Bullroarer wants with me?" asked Daisy. She was sitting by the nice cozy and warm fire, and really didn't want to go outside into the cold and scary world at that moment. Carl informed her that Bullroarer wanted to go hunting and that he wanted Daisy to bring her sling and come along.

Daisy got up and put on her cape and went out to Bullroarer. He was busy with stuff he had gotten out of the wagon. Daisy approached him, when in a small distance away she spotted Gaddy, who appeared to be avoiding her. She thought that he was probably mad at her for not being able to help with the dogs the other day. For that matter everybody seemed to be avoiding her. That thought made her very sad.

"Bullroarer, Carl said that you wanted me to join you to go hunting." Daisy said. "I do not know how good my aim is these days but I will give it my best" she added.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Calenedheliel ]

[piosenniel]

'Well, Daisy, come on along then. I've packed us a little bread and some dried meat to tide us over til we get back.' Bullroarer watched as she walked toward him, sling at the ready on her belt and a pouch full of stones tied near it. She had flung her cloak back over her shoulders, as it looked to be a somewhat sunny day, and had brought a length of thin rope should they be successful and had to carry a number of kills home.

Gaddy had busied himself a short distance away from Bullroarer. Broom in hand, he seemed to be sweeping snow from something as they passed, and he smiled shyly and waved, as if at both of them. The old Took noted, however, that his gaze did not extend to him, and laughed to himself. 'Got it bad, that one!' he thought, shaking his head.

'Come along, Daisy, my girl. There are squirrels and birds to be got.' he said, taking her elbow to assist her over a log in the snow. She waved shyly back at Gaddy and hurried on, blushing prettily to the roots of her hair.

Bullroarer tsk-tsk'ed to himself and set a fair pace as they made for the wooded area. 'Sweeping snow! I will have to have a talk with that young man!'

[Galadel Vinorel]

Auutmn pulled her cloak closer around her. It was very cold. Looking around from where she stood by the house, she saw a small squirrel running through the snow. The small squirrel then climbed up a tree with a nut in his mouth, an dissapeared from sight.

The hobbit smiled to herself, and then tears began to weld up in her eyes. She remembered how Carl had shot the squirrel that just two days ago. Just two days before!! Autumn couldn't believe it, two days ago they had been so happy, and now everyone was so sad.

Two days ago Emerald had been alive, but now she was dead. How could it be? Though, Autumn hadn't really talked to Emerald, she was still a member of this expedition, and their group would never be the same again, now that she was gone.

Autumnn rubbed the tears from her eyes, but more came in their place. She didn't know why she was crying so much; she hadn't even really known Emerald. Besides, she should be used to lossing people that she knew by now. Slowly, a memory crept into Autumn's mind. Too weak to let it pass, Autumn let it fill all her thoughts, mind, and being.

It was a time when Auutmn had only been in her tweens. Her twin brother, Tim, and she, along with her older brother, Harry, had enlisted as patrolers of Bywater. One day, they responded to a call that a pack of wolves had entered Bree and taken over a farm. They surrounded the farm, and were about ready to attack when a wolf suddenly leaped out of nowhere and bit Tim's arm. The hobbits fought off the attack and drove the wolves from Bree, though a few of them did loose their lives. Autumn escaped with only a few bruises and claw marks, but her brothers were not so lucky. You see, when Tim was attacked, Harry went and stabbed the wolf, only to be attacked by another wolf himself. They lost thier lives that day, and Autumn quit the patrol squad after that.


Autumn tried desperately to brush away her tears, but they kept coming. Hearing footsteps behind her, Autumn swung around. Standing there was Giles, looking the saddest that she had ever seen him look before.

[dragoneyes]

Hal staggered under the weight of his burden, he was doing work for the harfoots as that was what he was best at. He found himself carrying two bales of hay from the somewhat depleted stock in the barn to the horse's stables which were all full of hungry horses. Hal always found work to be the best way to get his mind off things.

It was quite a way from the barn to the stables and Hal was straining hard, nearly breaking a sweat, despite the cold. He got himself into a rhythm and began walking slowly but surely on his way. He was walking past the sorry-looking vegetable garden when he heard a swishing noise, like sweeping, he put down the bales and went over to see who was sweeping outside.

He saw it was Gaddy, "I could've guessed" he thought to himself.
"Gaddy." Gaddy looked up from his 'work',
"Yes?"
"Why are yer sweeping up snow?"
"Because I was told to."
"No yer weren't, what were yer really told to do?"
"Clean out the horses." said Gaddy, clearly not wanting to do anything of the sort,
"Oh come on it's not that bad."
"It's work!" Hal rolled his eyes,
"Yer so lazy Gaddy, Now come on, I'll help you with you're work, IF you help me with mine." Gaddy Grudgingly put the broom back and went over to Hal, who led him round to where he'd left the bales.
"Right, we're carrying these to the stables."
"Alright then." he said, going to pick them up, Hal took one end, Gaddy the other and together they lifted the bales, they got half-way there when Carl stuck his head out of the door,
"Hey! You two! I've got something to tell you!" Gaddy dropped the bales instantly and went to go over to Carl,
"After we've fed the horses Carl." answered Hal, Gaddy gave Hal a dark look and Hal smiled cheerily back,
"Come on then!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

After Carl had finished telling his secret about the bithday to Gaddy and Hal, he went off to join Branda to go fishing as he'd promised earlier. Soon, all three hobbits--Branda, Carl, and Dinodas--were trooping off to the Water in hopes of bringing back a large catch. Tne hobbits carried an assortment of poles and lines and feathered lures, along with their weapons and a few buckets. The younger son of the farmer had also come along, hoping to learn a few tricks to surprise his parents.

"You sure we'll find something" Dinodas asked.

"I'm sure. Don't worry. Wargs and dogs are mysteries to me. But fish I know inside out. My family's been doing this for generations. They say if you're a Stoor, it comes in the blood."

"Are any of the others coming?" Carl asked. "Not sure, maybe a few will find their way later." The road's straight and clear so they'll have no trouble finding it."

It didn't take long to reach the Water. It was frozen on top, but, if you looked hard underneath, you could see some real water down below with a few fish darting back and forth. Branda took his pick axe and began chipping a hole in the ice and told the others to do the same, and showed them how they must sit very quietly with a line slinking down and wait for the fish to bite.

Then Branda scrambled deep in his pocket and took out hooks, a few made of wood and ohers made of some kind of metal. He tied them on the lines, and then attached something to the end.

Dinodas covered his nose, "That stinks. What is it?

Branda laughed, "It's rotten chicken and fish. I brought it all the way from home. I kept it in the bottom of my pocket so it wouldn't freeze up and stay fresh. You may think it stinks but the fish in these parts love it."


Then he sat down patiently to wait.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ December 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Oh, Autumn! To lose someone even before we've left the Shire! * Giles gave his new friend a hug of reassurance, his tears over the loss of Emerald joining hers. * If you'd like to keep me company, I'm headed to the barn to build a rabbit trap.

* Giles' feet crunched through crisp morning snow as pale dawn lit cold wispy clouds. Autumn followed in his tracks. Once in the barn, they each gave their ponies a thin nosebag of precious oats and filled their troughs with spring water. Being hungry from trying to go without breakfast, Giles took a small handful of oats to munch on for himself from a half-empty bin. *

* Giles grabbed up his tools and collected steel, bits of wood just the right size for fashioning into pegs, and rope from Farmer Harfoot's scrap pile. Next to the pile stood an oaken barrel with a hole in the side and its metal rim peeling away. A snap of memory came to his eyes. *

Hey Autumn, tomorrow is Daisy's birthday. I can use me some of these barrel-staves to make her a pair of skis.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn turnd to look at Giles. "Daisy's birthday's tomorrow!! Why, I didn't know that!! That would be great if you made er some skis, Giles. What do you think I should give her? Hhmmmm..."

Autumn turned and looked around the barn in search of something that she could make Daisy. Spotting some pieces of old leather, Autumn bent to pick them up. "I think I remember hearing Daisy saying that she lost her canteen in the warg attack. I'll make a nice canteen out of this and some of that wood."

Autumn smiled to herself. This was much better than feeling sorry for herself and mourning over Emerald. She had actually had something to do, and doing things always kept her mind from bringing up memories; memories that she would rather like to forget.

Auutmn and Giles bagan to get to work on making the rabbit trap. After making it, and setting it out in the forest to catch some nice, fat rabbits, they went back to the barn. The two hobbits began to assemble their presents for Daisy.

"You know what, Giles?" Autumn spoke up suddenly, and turned to look at Giles from where she sat on th ground, "I think that, if we are still here on the farm tomorrow, that we should get together a slight party for Daisy. I think that she would really like that, since she's been so sad lately. Do you think that everyone else wll help with the preparations?"

Giles smiled at Autumn, "I'm sure that they will be very excited to help, Autumn. Let's ask them after we finish our presents for Daisy. I'm almost done. How about you?"


Autumn looked down at her half-finished canteen. She hadn't made one of these in a while, but she was finally starting to remember how to make one. "I'm almost done, too," Autumn sighed happily, "I love birthdays. I hope Daisy will like our presents and her party."

"I'm sure she will," responded Giles with a smile. Then the two hobbits bent back over their gifts, carefully assembling the precious presents for Daisy.

[Ringwraith Number Two]

Roth padded silently beside Ragnorak. She was a lean, swift Warg- always ready to kill. The Winter had been unbearable. Many of her cubs are died from the bitter cold and from hunger.

The moon was high in the sky. She had not eaten for..so many days. Suddenly, she heard a soft baa.

She quickly nudged Nimue in the side with her nose. Nimue reacted sharply and soon, the two of them were busy sniffing the trail across the ground.

The sheep was standing on a little crest. It had obviously been separated from the rest of its flock. Roth's eyes glowed eerily with hunger as she leapt forward and pounced on the unsuspecting animal. She killed it immediately and set to work on it, savouring the taste of flesh in her mouth. Even after completely devouring it, she was still painfully hungry. She stared accusingly at the moon, reared up, and her how of anguish penentrated through the quiet land.

[ArwenBaggins]

Dafodyl awoke with a jolt, and found that almost the whole house was empty. ‘They must have left already!’ she thought to herself. She jumped up and brushed off her dusty clothes, and took her brush out hastily again. With a swift brush of her unruly curls, she shoved her things in her small bag and rushed to the stables.

There she saw Giles and Autumn, working on gifts. With a questioning look, she said: "What are those for?"

Giles jumped up and sighed, "Oh, Dafodyl, it’s only you. These gifts are for Daisy. Her birthday is tomorrow. Do you want to make her a gift?"

Dafodyl smiled and sat down Indian-style. She picked up some of the thick leather and some thin leather, and said: "Well, I’m gonna make her a headband to hold back her hair."

She bent the frozen, thick leather back, and made it connect with the smaller, thinner, piece. She pushed a small piece of wire through both sides and both pieces, and bent them back into a little ball. They were almost unseen.

"Two bad there isn’t any paint to make this more pretty than just plain leather," she said as she inspected her new masterpiece. She knew Daisy would love it.

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Nurumaiel]

Dinodas was half-watching Branda as he sat. After all, the young lad had never gone icefishing before, and he wanted to watch the expert.

The smell of rotten chicken and fish and been terrible, and Dinodas took a few deep breaths of the cold, fresh air, and found himself looking at the sky and daydreaming. He could see his sister and mother cooking dinner together, and his father trudging up the road, home from farming. Then they were all sitting around the table with Robin laughing at some joke.

How different things are now, Dinodas thought. We used to have so much food, and now we're hungry... we're all hungry. Everyone is. I hope we can bring food back, or we'll go on being hungry.

Carl gave Dinodas a little play-shove, trying to draw his attention. Dinodas suddenly remembered what he was doing and came back to the present time with an apology to the two. Branda was grinning, and Dinodas realized the hobbit had caught a fish.

Both Carl and Branda were waiting for him to say something, but he hadn't recovered his present thoughts; he was still in the past. So all he could say was, "Good job!"

[Auriel Haevasawen]

As soon as Roth returned Ragnarok knew she had been successful in her hunt. Dark streaks were smeared across her pelt which were clearly visible even in the inconsistant glow of the moon.

Ragnarok snarled. She had killed and not shared a morsel with him. These insolent she-wolves needed to be taught a lesson. He cared not that they starved like him.
He snarled again. His lips curled back from his gums and revealed the saliva glistening on his bared teeth.

Nimue padded about between the trees at the forest fence. She was agitated. The pups lolloped to her side through the uneven snow and long dead undergrowth. Young as they were they felt his anger as clearly as they felt the icey blasts from the fields.
Ragnarok's shoulders shook. His matted hair stood out in a thousand opposing directions. The moon was reflected in his cold yellow eyes. All the time Roth stood her ground. She did not bow her head. She did not lie at his feet. Neither did she answer his challenge. He breaths were heavy and clouds of vapour escaped all their mouths as they continued their stand-off.

Ragnarok's pounce was rapid. Despite the warning growls it still took her by surprise. His front paws smacked heavily against her side. She was forced down into the snow, winded. Ragnarok opened his jaws. She squirmed to be fee. They scuffled in the drift but he was still far bigger than her despite his lack of food. He let out an unearthly sound. It echoed through the trees and carried on the wind. He had her pinned beneath him. Nimue drew further back. Her own pups behind her she would not get involved for their sake. Her own time would come.

Roth let out a wolf-scream. Ragnarok had bitten at her ear. Blood from her wound mingled with that of her kill. Fellow Warg or no Ragnarok would have murdered her.
Suddenly out in the fields a shout went up. Clear and resonant it was in the night air. Ragnarok leapt off Roth in a single, powerful bound. Her blood was on his chin. Roth was on her feet:dazed but alert.
The shouting of the shepherds continued. Now lanterns could be made out across the open land. They had found what remained of the sheep's carcass.

Ragnarok growled again at Roth. Nimue let out a sharp bark to warn them. The hunters had become the hunted and she had no intention of becoming anyone's prey.

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: Auriel Haevasawen ]

[piosenniel]

It was late in the afternoon when Bullroarer and Daisy returned to the house. The hunt had proved successful - Daisy had brought down four conys with her sling, and they had gotten a brace of quail with one of their nets. Most of their time had been spent laying out the traps and nets in hopes that by the morrow, when they checked them, they would have another supply of meat for their hosts' table.

It was a hungry and tired pair that came back to the house. They cleaned and gutted their catch, then presented them to the Missus. She directed them to give her the rabbits, she would chunk them up for a rich stew along with the root vegetables she had stored in the cellar. The birds she had them put on a spit over the fire. She would roast them, and pick the meat from their bones, for some tasty quail and mushroom tartlets for tomorrow. She set two handsful of dried mushrooms to soaking, and was soon humming happily to herself as she started the broth for the stew.

Daisy and Bullroarer offered to lend a hand, but she shooed them away from her cooking area and to the kitchen table, saying they had done enough just bringing her the game. She poured them both mugs of thick sweet tea, and they sat back, relaxed in their chairs, as she bustled about her domain.

[dragoneyes]

Just before Carl had left to go fishing, he had told Hal and Gaddy about Daisy's birthday and they had spent most of the afternoon looking through all the things they had brought for a present for her.

All the things had been sorted into two piles in the stable, both were thoroughly covered in straw, piled in the corner of the stable were the things that Daisy wouldn't want and against the back wall was a pile of the things they could give to her. Gaddy had in his hand a bag of dried fruit and Hal was looking thoughtfully at the pile of possible presents.
"I'd not realised that we'd brought so many things with us, definately didn't seem like it when we packed." said Hal, mostly to himself, Gaddy looked out of the stable door and saw the three other hobbits walking back to the house,
"I'll wager they've all got her something already." He said sulkily, frustrated that out of all they things he'd brought, not one of them looked right for Daisy.
"There's a nice book of pressed flowers at home, she would've liked that."

Gaddy turned back round to find Hal searching through the pile again. Gaddy sighed and walked over to Fallor, who had been patiently waiting for the two hobbits to get out of his stable so that he could have some peace. Gaddy stroked his nose and gave him a piece of dried apple from the bag, which Fallor ate graciously.

Hal had gotten right to the bottom of the pile, when he found what he'd been looking for,
"Finally!" he said producing a blanket, "the perfect present."
"What? That old thing?" said Gaddy,
"We're not going to give it her like this, we'll make it into something."
"Like what?" at this Hal produced a knife and a roll of string,
"I was thinking along the lines of a cloak, in this weather, you can never have too many cloaks." Gaddy agreed and they quickly re-packed their things and headed back to the house to work on the gift.

They reached the door and opened it, to their dismay Daisy and Bullroarer had already arrived, They smiled quickly and rushed through, Gaddy had wanted to stay and talk but Hal had pushed him along infront. They reached the bedroom, firmly shut the door and set to work. At first Hal was a little slow in remembering what to do, it had been a long time since he had been needed to make a cloak, but it soon came back to him.

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the last rays of the sun slid beneath the horizon, Carl, Dinodas, and Branda were gathering up their gear, preparing to head to the farmhouse for their evening meal. They had made a long day of it and were returning with a goodly number of fish, neatly strung up in bunches. They had just gone back one last time to retrieve their buckets, when they discovered something strange.

Carl stood at the edge of the river scratching his head. "I know I put those two buckets here. They were both filled with small fish. They weren't much for eating, but we could use them as bait."

"Maybe you just thought you set them down. Maybe you got so hungry you ate them raw." Dinodas suggested with a laugh.

"Ate them raw? Hey, cut it out." He gave Dinodas a playful push. "That means I ate the pails too. I'm not that desperate. At least not yet!"

Dinodas stumbled over to where Carl stood, and looked carefully down at the packed snow. "Look here. Real close. There's some drag marks here." He pointed to a series of scraggly lines on the ground which seemed to lead off in the distance, and then disappear.

Dinodas glanced up with eyes staring wide, a look of fear on his face, and grabbed for a heavy cudgel he'd brought along with him. "You don't think it's more of those critters? The ones we met before. Maybe they did this." He looked first at Carl and then at Branda.

Carl shook his head, "I can't say for sure, but I don't know too many animals that would bother toting away a wooden pail. They'd just dump the bucket over, and eat what's inside. Whatever took this made a clean getaway." Carl looked around the snowswept tundra, but could see no sign of either pail, or the remains of eaten fish.

"I'm not sure," Branda said, "but I have a funny feeling about this. Let's try something..."

Branda knelt down near one of the strings of fish, and pulled a few of the smaller ones off the end. He set them on the ice right near the spot where the buckets had mysteriously disappeared. Then he hid behind a series of bushy shrubs that stood close to the river bank, and beckoned the others to do the same. He told thm to keep their weapons close by. Then they sat quietly and waited.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

After the three hobbits had finally finished making their presents for Daisy, they went on into the house to hide them in their rooms. As they entered the living room, they discovered that Daisy and Bullroareer were back. Auutmn quickly took Dafodyl's present from her hands and hide it behind her back and pushed her over to a chair. Dafodyl would have to distract Daisy, so that Giles and Autumn could go and hide the presents before the young hobbit noticed them.

Excusing themselves, Giles and Autumn headed up to Auutmn's room, and wrapped the presents with some extra cloth that they had found. Autumn tied a bow around each gift and tucked a flower under the strings. Finally the presents were fully wrapped, and, after hiding them, the two hobbits went down to join Dafodyl, Daisy, and Bullroarer in the living room.

On the way, they passed Hal and Gaddy, who looked very secretive, and Auutmn wondered if they were going to be making a present for Daisy too. Then she noticed some cloth in Hal's arms, that he seemed to be trying to hide. Auutmn just smiled slyly as she passed the hobbits, though, and did not ask them anything. Giles and Autumn then entered the living room and sat down on a couch to talk with Bullroarer and Daisy about their hunt.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Branda, Carl, and Dinodas crouched together in the bushes, their eyes rivetted on the tundra ahead, where a few fish had been set down on the ice as a gleaming invitation for any beast or man who'd care to have a sample. The afternoon sun had long since disappeared, and a sliver of moon rode high in the sky. A few stars had come out to dot the horizon, but there was yet no sign of other visitors to the river.
The hobbits' fingers and toes were stiff and numb as they sat hunched together trying to keep warm. Their breaths made icey puffs in the cold night air, little rings of smoke hovering just in front of three red noses.

"Can't we go?" Dinodas whispered to Branda. "I'm turning into a block of ice!"

"Just a minute. Hold on. I'm sure something's coming. And, look sharp, because we don't know how dangerous this thing will be."

As Branda finished speaking, a white form, crouching and silent, began inching forward along the snowbank. Carl was the first to see it. It lay flat against the icey surface, barely discernible to those looking on.

"What's that?" Carl whispered, with genuine puzzlement in his voice.

"That's no animal!" Dinodas observed.

"Shh!" warned Branda. "Take your weapons and bag your prey."

The three rushed out of the shrubs just in time so see a scrawny hand reach out towards the fish and stuff it into its face. Whatever this was, it was eating the raw fish, bones and all, in one gulp, like a wild beast.

Branda grabbed the creature around the collar and hauled it out to have a better look. As the pale moonlight glowed on the creature's face, the hobbit was so startled that he dropped his prey. This was no beast or stranger at all.

"What's this?" Carl growled. "A hobbit child who's a thief! We'll have none of that. Haul 'em back with us, and give him some of Bullroarer's justice."

Branda shook his head. He looked at the scrawny, miserable form. He was a boy who looked to be no more than sixteen-years old, as skinny as they come. Hunger glittered deep in his eyes, and, with it, a feeling of near desperation.

"Come along lad, and bring along those pails we know you've got hidden. We'll take you back to your smial and tell your folks what you've done."

The lad cowered and shook his head. "You can't do that. I got no home. My mother died of hunger. I'm alone now."

"How are you living?" said Carl, with concern and curiousity mirrored in his voice.

"However I can. Stealing here, borrowing there. That's why my coat is white. To blend in. But I'm still hungry most of the time."

"You have no kin to take you in?" Branda asked.

The lad shook his head no, and then stared fixedly at a distant point in the sky.

"Alright then, come with us for now. We'll see what we can do to help. What's your name, lad?"

"Tomba Goodchild. Folks call me Tom."

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

Tom was taken back to the farmhouse, set near the fire to warm, and given a large plate of rabbit stew. He ate as if he hadn't seen food in at least ten years.

Then they found him a little place in the corner to sleep. The rest of the companions kept looking at the boy. A few grumbled that he sounded like a thief. But one or two of the women came over and, with some sign of affection, helped him settle in for the night.

Then, after another round of rabbit stew and pipeweed all around, the hobbits thanked Giles and his farm kin for letting them stay in such a nice, cosy place, and settled in for the night.

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

As dawn broke the next morning, Bullroarer rose early and came over to Branda, shaking him awake. Bandobras wasted no time getting to the main issue at hand.

"This lad, you found, what do you propose we do?"

Branda sat up, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. "Well, if we don't help him, he's sure to starve. If times were normal, another farm family would have taken him in. But time's aren't normal. There's no food to spare."

"And we do?" Bulroarer growled.

"To be truthful, a bit more than some. We've got skills in trapping, and shooting, and fishing that others can't match. I think we can spare a bit."

Anyways," he continued, "I'll eat less and work harder, if that will help. Plus, with all the hurt and dying, it will be good to take a young thing in our care and tend it to grow and live. That will be my birthday present to Daisy, getting this young lad for us all to care for."

Bullroarer shook his head. "You've gotten soft on this lad, Branda. Watch out."

Bullroarer seemed about ready to say no, but then thought a minute and admitted, "On the other hand, the lad does seem strong and more used to hardship than many. And someday we might need a hobbit who could pass for a burglar."

"Allright, alright. He's with us, if he wants to come." Bullroarer groaned, but then pointed a finger towards Branda. "Just make sure he does his burglaring outside this group, and only when we ask him to! You keep him in line, or you'll both be out on your behinds."

Branda grinned broadly and nodded in agreement.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

'Today's my birthday.' thought Daisy to herself, as she hauled out of bed. Bullroarer had called her name several times, reminding her that they were going out to check the traps they had set yesterday and go hunting again for small game.

'Hurry down, girl!' he yelled from the kitchen doorway, effectively waking the remainder of the sleeping Hobbits. 'I've made a pot of hot oatmeal, and if you don't get down here soon it will all be gone. He turned, serving spoon in hand to the thin, young Hobbit who sat shoveling a steaming bowl of the porridge into his mouth. He almost had this second bowl of it gone.

'Now here's someone who doesn't mind the old Took's cooking!' he beamed, thinking how his wife always shooed him out of her kitchen whenever he offered to help. He turned to the hob by the fire and gave the pot a stir.

'Well, Sir,' came the voice of the boy, whose spoon now scraped against the sides of his empty bowl, 'to be honest it is kind of lumpy, but mighty tasty!' He smiled disarmingly and held out his bowl again.

Bullroarer raised one eyebrow and smiled a half-smile at the proffered bowl. 'Of course it's lumpy. I meant it to be that way. Sticks to your ribs better, Tom!'

He ladled another generous helping into the lad's bowl, wondering if Tomba had a hollow leg. He strode to the kitchen doorway, pot in hand. 'Better hurry, Daisy! You've got competition for this last bowl of mush!'

[dragoneyes]

Hal finally finished stitching in the last pocket in an early morning rush. He held it up to the light filtering through the frosty windows, he smiled at his work. The material was good and soft, and the cloak had four inside pockets and a string loop on the collar with which to tie the cloak closed.

Gaddy came into the room holding a bowl of porridge.
"I saved you some." he said smiling, "Have you finished the cloak?"
"Yes, it's not got any pattern or anything on it though." said Hal, taking the bowl of porridge and dipping his spoon into it.
"Not much we can do about that now though is it?" Hal didn't say anything, he just looked thoughtfully at the dark green material.

Hal took a mouthful of porridge and made a face.
"What's the matter?" asked Gaddy,
"It's cold!" said Hal indignantly.
"Sorry I finished mine before I brought you yours. Do you still want it?" Gaddy looked hopefully at the bowl.
"I never said I didn't want it." Gaddy's shoulders drooped dissapointedly,
"Do you want to wrap it up?" said Hal through a mouthful of porridge, "There's some string over there." he continued, pointing to a scrap of string peeping out from under a bed. Gaddy used the string to tie up the cloak and pushed it under the bed, then he sat down on the bed.

"I want to learn how to use the bow and arrow." said Gaddy suddenly, Hal looked up at him, caught quite off gaurd by Gaddy's statement.
"Why's that?"
"I've been thinking about it for a while now, well, ever since we were attacked. I realised how helpless I really was, I could barely protect myself. I should've been able to protect the others as well." Gaddy stopped, tears welled up in his eyes. Hal looked at him, quite lost for words, he hadn't realised how much Gaddy had been affected by the ordeal with the dogs. He could've kicked himself, ofcourse he had been affected! Hal sat down next to him and put his arm around him.
"You can't do anything about that now. Ask someone to teach you to shoot, Robin, Dinodas."
"Thankyou Hal." said Gaddy smiling a small smile at him. Hal smiled back and Gaddy got up and left.