The Periannath Walking Club - Journey to Woody End

Growing food and eating it occupied most of their time.
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"Hogwash!" exclaimed Dwim with a mouth full of second breakfast. He had sampled a bit of everything from the kind hobbits he was sharing the morning with. He'd had some of Henna's tomato relish with his own sausages, he'd taken one of Rilla's strawberries, one of Silas' bonbons and one of Pearl's blueberry muffins.

"Absolute hogwash, Master Underash," Dwim continued, pointing south. "I've got family in these here South-farthing hills, and I can assure you that every one of them partakes in second breakfast, busy or not." He could not fathom why Jorgy's own people did not. Though he smiled at the lad. "I do hope you're beginning to see the value in a second breakfast."

Now that he'd filled his belly, he took Silas' form and stashed it in his pack. "Thank you, Mr. Hardwick, a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dwim Took, I'm the group's guide. And this over here is Perry the Pony. Please let us know if you need any assistance in transporting your belongings."

Just then, another portly fellow, young Dik, reappeared all hot and bothered. The first thing he asked was where's the fire. "The fire?" replied Dwim with surprise. "Well if you'd wanted a fire, you should have said something earlier. We could have all gathered some sticks along the way! But this is a quick second breakfast, we'll be moving on soon, and we don't have any time for a fire now."

Then it was indeed time to move on. Dwim did not want the morning to get away from them. He packed up his things quickly and informed everyone of the plan.

"Alright everybody, if we've all had enough to eat, it's time to make a move."

(Please await my next RP prompt)

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Announcement:

We're going to cross the Stock Road and cut through into the hills. We're going up into Green Hill Country, up to the top of the highest hill, which will provide a stunning view of the Shire, right across from Hobbiton all the way to the Water, and beyond. And don't worry, getting up the hill is not too much work. Dwim knows some useful paths and we'll be going at an appropriate pace.

As we begin to cross the road, a couple of bushy-bearded Dwarves travelling by pony and cart begin to slow and approach the group. Dwarves are rarely seen on the Stock Road. They're more commonly seen travelling along the East Road, so this is quite a surprise. Once stopped, they call out to the group.

"Morning, all! What brings a merry troop of hobbits like yourselves down to the Stock Road? Accompanied by a Wizard, no less..."

Please now RP the beginning of this leg of the journey. And someone please nominate themselves to respond to the two dwarves.

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Image Henna Lightfoot

Crossing the Stock Road was all good, Henna thought, but uphill was going to be a struggle with a bellyful of sausage sandwich. Her motivation for listening to him at all was that Master Dwim's unnatural hastiness to move on did probably suggest that he had another food stop in mind and she didn't want to miss it because they were late.

She rustled herself into some sort of order, slung some pears in their string bag across her back, grabbed her husband's walking staff and began to get her mind ready to stubborn up the hill. It was the only way she was going to get there, unless it was on the pony's back.

As the rest of the club got itself in order, Henna found herself at the back of the column and as they began to meander onto the road one by one, she found herself developing patience unwillingly. Still, eventually they were all out on the road and it hadn't taken too long.
The Wood-elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon, but loved best the stars.

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Silas Hardwick, A Hobbit

Silas gratefully accepted a cold sausage sandwich and a muffin, the latter of which he popped carefully into his pocket for later. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Took, sir,” he said, “but I’m just Silas - Mr Hardwick is my gaffer!”

It was time to move on again, it seemed. The hard part was always getting going - although Silas had shamefully hardly done any walking at all this morning, what with the ride he’d hitched. He heaved himself back to his feet with a sigh, sandwich clutched in one hand, and began stepping out with the rest, munching as he went. Almost immediately Silas realised why one shouldn’t walk and eat at the same time - it was difficult to breathe whilst fully appreciating the sandwich. The bread was soft, the sausage springy with meat and herbs and the zing of the tomato relish - really, if only he’d arrived earlier he could have properly savoured it. “This is top class relish, Ms Henna,” he declared. Were those other travelers he could see on the road? Surely not more latecomers?
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Ducky was endlessly amused as he read the faces of the hobbits staring at him. They were (sometimes) trying to be surreptitious, but it was much like watching a little child try to be sneaky. They fooled only themselves. Fear, amusement, curiosity...the hobbits were full of it. Ducky silently refused to reveal anything, nodding them away or pretending he didn't see the reactions. There was much else to see, after all, as they traveled down lanes and over hills that drew little gasps of amazement from the wizard's lips. If the rest of the Free People knew of the Shire, there would be an endless stream of tourists just itching to get a glimpse of such sights. Ducky was glad this was a well-kept secret.

When he saw the Dwarves (a bit before anyone else), he immediately picked up his pace to the front of the group, but kept his stance relaxed. He hailed the two dwarves in response, calling out:

"Why, a merry group of hobbits in the Shire is no surprise, but seeing Dwarves out this far certainly is!" Ducky looked down at himself, considering, and added, "I suppose my own presence is just as curious. This chance meeting may be more than it seems. Do you have particular business? Do you need help?" The wizard's tone was cordial, but his knuckles clutching his staff had tightened ever so slightly.

OOC: Bit presumptuous here since you said nominate, I can always edit if I misunderstood @Dwim

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Jorgy Underash

Just when he thought he was In the clear, poor Jorgy was put on his back foot again (what a strange phrase that was, but it did make a little more sense now that he had a good to be his back foot). Silas, the Hobbit with the bonbons (which much to Jorgy's everlasting joy were not in fact small bonfires one was forced to eat), had asked him about something called hay fever. Jorgy, of course, had no idea what this was not that bit was in reference to his oddly colored and shaped eyes. If he did have an idea he would have been very much ashamed and terrified to show his face. But he had to come up with something quick! “Hay fever? I haven't seen any hay about but it had been rather hot outside. “ Surely that would mollify Silas' suspicions. Jorgy made a mental note to find out what hay fever, or hay and fever, actually were. Hopefully his word salad would make enough sense for now. Salad? Why was Jorgy hungry for a salad all of the sudden? What even was a salad?

Before he could delve deeper in the mysteries of salad, Pearl had made her rounds of greetings and food gathering (clearly two vital skills of which she had absolute mastery) and began probing him about his worm comment. That’s what you get for coming up with nonsense you silly snake! Had he been talking about dragons (dragons! Oh no please no dragons!) or the little wiggly things down in the earth. Thankfully, he had in truth meant the little wiggly things. And she wanting to go fishing! Jorgy smiled so widely his ears popped (don’t ask how, just go with it). He loved fishing! Whenever he win a race he would be rewarded with a trip to a fishing hole where he could swim and eat all that his snake-y heart could endure. This love had not melted away along with much of his previous snake-y notions when he became a Hobbit, but rather it seemed to have intensified. “I would dearly love that Pearl! I think my greatest love is fishing. We could go by the water, yes, or in a boat even. I've fished both ways.” Of course, poor Jorgy had no way of knowing Bywater was an actual place yet but he could learn that later.

And look! A newcomer! Jorgy beamed. He had a chance now to practice that skill which Pearl and the others were so seemingly adept at, the art of greeting. This was going to be magnificent. He was really going to start Hobbiting now! Yes sir. “Hello Dik, I’m Jorgy.” And with that, all the wonderful words he was going to use in his greeting seemed to vanish utterly from Jorgy’s mind, he was as blank as the day he was born. Oh no! His face reddened in embarrassment. At least he closed his mouth after a few seconds when it wad clear to everyone no more words were coming out.

Just at that moment, Dwim piped up, calling Jorgy hogwash. Was he supposed to bring hogs to clean? It didn’t make much sense for a walking club to bring something so cumbersome as a hog to wash but who was he to argue? However, when he started talking about family in the Southfarthing, Jorgy panicked. Of course he would have family there! Even though he had no ideas where, or what, the Southfarthing was, it made absolute sense that Dwim wild have family there. There was a strange sort of logic that seemed to govern Jorgy’s life now, one that would never seem to left him rest. “I, well I, I mean…”

Thankfully, before Jorgy could stick his foot in his mouth again (he’d done that literally a few days ago, feeling peckish and unsure why he needed two feet), someone appeared on the horizon. Was that… Dwarves! Something in the back of Jorgy's lava snake brain. There were Dwarves in Mordor. They were meaner than the orcs! He was very certain that he’d never seen these Dwarves before, well somewhat sure, okay maybe less than confident, but he was not about the take any chances here. He jumped in front of Pearl and Silas, holding his hands out wide to make himself as big as possible. Hopefully, someone could come along and see these Dwarves off, Jorgy was in protect mode.
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Image Henna Lightfoot

Henna, of course, was delighted Silas liked the relish, after all it was there to be eaten, but she couldn't concentrate on compliments - there were things afoot in the Shire! Not that that lovesick fool Jorgy would notice anything unless Pearl pointed it out to him. Those two would be married before harvest, she predicted, and she would have begun to make a mental list of wedding mathomry right then and there if they weren't being hailed by some hooded ruffians on the road.

The Wizard, being Noble and Righteous, strode forth nobly and righteously to contend with the danger presented by the two dirty vagabonds who had probably stolen ... No, Henna, she scolded herself. We are not going to judge these unfortunate travellers by their looks. We are going to very politely see what's going on, and then run away if it gets physical. Or bash them over the head with old Tom's walking stave if they get too close.

She nibbled nervously on a pear, hiding herself just enough that she could see and hear everything, and yet not be first in line if these hairy strangers attacked. Mostly, she was standing behind Dik. He looked strong enough to take a blow or two before collapsing. Not that she wanted him to take any blows, you understand, he just looked as if he could. You know, if it were necessary, which it probably wasn't. Probably.

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Rilla Banks

Rilla was enjoying the food and company so much she was loathe to get up and keep walking especially when she was so full of sausages, sandwiches, bonbons and everything else. But she dragged herself up and heaved her pack over her shoulders. She trudged along dutifully at first, but promptly forgot any of her complaints as she lost herself in the countryside and company. The food would do her good to climb up to Green Hill Country!

When the company stopped at the sight of the oncoming dwarves, Rilla nearly stumbled into Ducky and was very glad when she did not for he might become very grumpy indeed at having so many hobbits running into him in one day. She'd heard how grumpy wizards could sometimes be, especially that Gandalf fellow.

Ignoring the protective stance Jorgy took and the tentative look on Henna's face, Rilla waved at the dwarves and was about to greet them good day when Ducky spoke up. Why should anyone be frightened of anyone in the Shire, even if they were not hobbits? After all, they had their very own dwarf (Dik) in their own party! she had met dwarves in the Shire before who were perfectly friendly. And Dik was most assuredly a hobbit, from curly head to hairy toes. (Edited to correct my rookie mistake, sorry Balfur! Clearly was not paying enough attention when I posted.)

It was too bad the dwarves had not come upon them sooner and they could have shared in second breakfast. But on second thought, maybe it was better that way. More food for them. They were going to need it on their walk! "Don't tell them about all our food," she whispered to Silas, unaware if anyone else could overhear. "Then we might have to share it and there'll be nothing left for elevensies!" Her eyes were wide. No food for elevensies would surely be a great tragedy.
Last edited by Lail on Wed Jul 29, 2020 3:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Pearl Brockhouse

Pearl smiled as she watched Henna pull out a flask and pipe momentarily - the flask for a quick sip, the pipe for a quick sniff. It seemed she was enjoying the outing, which was more than Pearl could say for the last time she'd seen Henna at the Green Dragon Inn. She had, naturally, been repulsed by the awful smells from the stink bomb on that last meeting.

It seemed that Jorgy had misheard a few key phrases in the morning's conversation. "Jorgy, my dear," she began with a laugh, "Hay fever is when you go all sneezy and sniffly around freshly bloomed flowers. It's not an actual fever, and doesn't usually have much to do with hay. And you know that Bywater is a village, right? Probably called that because it is by the water, as you say. Anyway, let's talk later about a fishing trip! Maybe some friends from the Walking Club can join us." She paused and tilted her head at him again in mild confusion. "You were just kidding about hay fever and Bywater, right?"

"Hogwash!" cried Dwim all of a sudden. Pearl snapped her attention back to where her old friend was now telling off Jorgy about second breakfast. "You have relatives down here, of course!" she interjected. "Do you think we'll run into any of them on our journey? I'd love to meet some more members of the Took clan." She grinned at Dwim's remarks about second breakfast, glad she was not taking on the task of teaching Jorgy ordinary things alone.

At Dwim's instruction, they all stood to be on their way. Pearl brushed muffin crumbs from her skirt and picked up her stick - it would be necessary as they navigated the hills to come. They'd taken no more than a dozen steps before she noticed Silas breathing hard as if his windpipe was somehow obstructed. "Silas, are you okay?" She held up her water skin. "If you need a sip of water to help, I'm happy to share." It was a relief when he spoke to Henna - Pearl had been quite nervous that he was choking on the tomato relish and bread. Between Jorgy's constant need for help with navigating the group and ordinary conversation, her own clumsiness, Menolly’s tumble, and Dik huffing and puffing to catch up with the group already, the last thing they needed was for someone to choke before they could even stop for some ale.

Pearl gasped aloud as two hooded and bearded figures appeared. She was frightened of outsiders, though that fear was tempered by her curiosity. "Dwarves!" she whispered, enchanted and nervous.

She was imagining the sparkly treasures they might have in their cart when Jorgy's curls and arms suddenly obscured her vision. "Wha- Jorgy!" Pearl said. "It's okay!" she reassured him, putting a hand on one of his outstretched arms. "Look, Ducky is greeting them! And look, Rilla is waving. They won't hurt us." She laughed again. "You're very brave to protect us, though."

She overheard Rilla muttering something about elevenses. "Oooh, elevenses!" She thought wistfully of the cheese and bread in her bag and wondered vaguely if her odd new friend would know about this next and very important meal.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Reichart Fatty ~ Hobbit NPC

Blast and befuddle his own laziness! Of course there was no time anymore for tea brewing or any sort of fire. Oh, he could thump himself for asking stupid questions. Instead, he sighed and answered Dwim: "Ah, you are right, of course. I suppose I'll look out for some firewood and sticks and all for elevenses."
He smiled and tried to hide his disappointment by munching away on some of his bread and cheese, whilst repacking the rest. When ready, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Pearl handed him a muffin and he gladly accepted.
"Oh, thank you. I'm sure they're still lovely. Even if a bit mushy," he said. He tasted it and it was quite good.
"My name is Reichart, but most people just call me Dik or Dikkie. And I assure you I am not an athlete, haha! I just... really didn't want to miss the adventure!"
Not knowing what to say next he just ate the muffin in silence and gladly accepted a left over sausage sandwich which he garnered with the tomato relish from the older woman with flowers in her hair (Henna). It tasted really good and he made his compliments to both their journey's leader and Henna.
"The relish really brings out the sausages flavour!" But everyone else was getting ready to get moving again, so he quickly finished his fast meal and he comforted himself with the thought that the next mealtime, he would actually have some tea and somewhat longer to eat. And at least he was not trying to stuff things in his mouth as quickly as possible, like the weird-looking hobbit (Jorgy).

They set off in a nice pace, much better than his pace had been the first leg of the walk, and just as Dikkie fell in line humming some melody he had fancied up to go with a poem he once had read in a book there appeared a party of Dwarves. The rotund hobbit's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Never in a hundred years had he imagined he would see Dwarves! As he glanced about he realised he was not the only one. The weird hobbit from the southfarthing Jorgy jumped in front of Pearl and the hobbit that had introduced themselves as Silas as if to defend them and the older hobbit Henna had moved slightly behind himself. The Wizard (Ducky) had, of course, taken the lead and hailed the Dwarves.
That was probably for the best, Dik reasoned. Wizards were known to be greatly interested in the affairs of other people.
Although he was a bit overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the Dwarves, he decided to square his shoulders and stand somewhat courageously beside the tall Wizard. He barely reached half his height, but it was still important to make a good impression.
"H-hullo, m-master Dwarves," he said, softer than he had intended, and raised a hand in greeting, "pleased to make your acquaintance." Oh, how he wanted to hide behind the long cloak of the Wizard. These Dwarves were far scarier and realer than he had read about in his books!

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Silas Hardwick, A Hobbit (He/Him)

This Jorgy was certainly an odd fellow. Fortunately, Silas was saved from having to launch into an explanation of hay fever by Pearl, who laughed brightly and began explaining. Vaguely, Silas wondered just what Pearl saw in Jorgy - perhaps hobbit lasses liked being able to explain even the simplest of things to a lad? For sure, his ma was never happier than when telling his paw exactly how to do something he knew how to do already. Perhaps this was some ploy by Jorgy to capture more of Pearl’s interest. It wasn’t a strategy Silas hoped to explore: he loved explaining things, at least, when his mouth wasn’t full of bread and sausage. “Ankoo,” he mumbled, taking a sip of Pearl’s water gratefully and wiping the rim politely before returning it.

They had drawn close enough to the other party to make out that they were Dwarves! Well, and what a surprise! Silas had seen Dwarves before, brief travellers, but had never spoken to one himself. Jorgy, it seemed, was similarly unfamiliar, leaping in front of Pearl - and Silas himself - in a weird, splayed-out stance. “Hey now, I can’t see, Jorgy,” Silas protested, sidling away and closer to Rilla, who was whispering in his ear.

“Rilla, I would never,” he replied to her seriously, “but guests must be shared with, if guests they are... but we aren’t hosts here, just fellow travellers: so I don’t really know how the laws of hospitality apply? I guess they would have their own supplies, and wouldn’t expect us to share unless they were also willing to. I wonder what Dwarves eat, anyway?” They didn’t object to Hobbit fare, or at least those who had ventured into the Shire public holes and houses had not; but who knew what they ate when they were at home?

The Wizard was hailing them, at any rate. If anyone knew how to handle strange Dwarves, it would be a Wizard.
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The two dwarves eyed the walkers with curious amusement as they all finally managed to gather together at the edge of the road. They noticed some suspicion from certain members of the group, but were somewhat pleased when the Wizard (Ducky) was the one to step forward and address them, flanked by a chubby, young lad (Dik) doing his best to provide support.

"Hello there, good sirs!"
replied the older looking dwarf to Ducky and the young hobbit, as he hopped off the cart. "You're right, we are strangers to this road. Although we are common travellers through the Shire, just not normally this far south. My name's Tormen." He gave a deep bow, so deep that his black beard was almost touching the road. "Tormen Oakfall. And this here's my cousin, Ermen."

"We're Dwarves from the Blue Mountains," added Ermen.

"Yep, that's right," continued Tormen. "Normally we'd be up on the Great East Road, picking up barrels of brew from the Dragon to bring back home. But they're short on stock, so we've picked some up from the Black Fox, back there at Woodhall, instead."

Both dwarves spotted the surprise in Dwim's eyes.

"Ahh, so you're familiar?" noted Tormen. "Why yes, the owner there, Cormella Goodbody, she said she was expecting a walking club of numbers similar to yours tonight. In fact, she was one barrel short of our order because she was expecting you lot to drink a whole one yourselves. So we've only three barrels to bring back home instead of four. But even three barrels of Shire brew is enough to keep our brothers and sisters happy back home. Alas, the Fox already tapped one of the barrels for us. Who'd like a sample?"


This would test the group. Who'd brought a spare canteen or waterskin with them? Dwim certainly had, and he was the first to the back of the dwarves' cart, ready to fill his own canteen with ale. It would go down nicely with lunch at the top of the Green Hills there.

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Ducky was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears.

"You're telling me the Green Dragon is...short on barrels of ale!?" he said in astonishment. He clutched at his chest, reeling from the news. He was happy he had a staff in his other hand to support himself.

"Little Halflings, how can the most famousest inn of the whole Shire be running out of ale? Is it possible they are selling it all to the Dwarves? Or is it just hot enough that hobbits drink ale faster than it can possibly be produced?" His mouth twitched very slightly, but he wouldn't give away just how much he was giving them a hard time and how much he was serious.

He turned and patted Dik on the shoulder. For a hobbit to stand shoulder to, uh, waist? with a wizard was no mean feat. This hobbit was going places. Probably on a short, easy-going tour around the Shire and then back home for like the eighth meal of the day, but still. Places. "Well done that, lad!" said Ducky, pleased.

As for the promise of a sample, Ducky would pass. It seemed a bit early on the day to get started drinking things that weren't water, didn't it? And there was always the danger of dehydration. Ducky stepped aside, not wanting any more swots to the knees from hobbits rushing to the ale-cart.

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Image Henna Lightfoot

Ohhhh! They were Dwarves, not thieves and robbers. They probably ought to dress better, she thought to herself with barely even a scowl, if they wanted to be treated as good honest folk. But then, she couldn't imagine they had much option on fashion, living in the mountains. It was probably all warm, warmer and warmest in terms of choice. Still, the offer of ale was rather friendly, and she had a tiny pan she could use. She fished it out of her basket on the pony's back, and inveigled her way forward to get a panful of ale, without the use of her elbows!

This group of Hobbits were clearly more polite and civilised than those buggers at the market, for she was always elbowing her way through the crowds. Here, folk just got out of her way - probably in deference to her advancing years, she guessed. Either that, or they had heard about her elbows.

The ale was very nice, especially as it held up Master Dwim from racing up the next hill like his knees were less than a quarter of a century old. She wondered idly if the Wizard would give her a piggyback, but couldn't remember if she'd got her best bloomers on, so it might be best to leave that for another day.

Remembering her manners, she caught the Dwarves alone for a quiet moment, and whispered, "Thank you for the ale. You boys come and see me when you next come to the Dragon - I live by the willow just behind it. I'll make you some clothes, so you can blend in a little!" She smiled, "Maybe some nice colourful hoods, eh?"
Last edited by Lirimaer on Fri Jul 31, 2020 4:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Jorgy Underash

For reasons he could not quite comprehend, Jorgy felt vey foolish all of the sudden. If he had understood the nuances of Hobbit conversation (or any other form of conversation) he might have picked up on the fact that everyone around him thought he was being silly and ridiculous. And, from all perspectives in Middle Earth save his own, he was being quite ridiculous. Perhaps, he thought, it might be better right now to observe rather than engage, his disastrous attempt to greet Dik having made up his mind for him. Despite desperately wanting to fit in and have Hobbit (and maybe Wizard) friends, he seemed to have ostracized himself. Yes, observing would be better now.

It seemed his apprehension about the Dwarves had been misplaced. These were not, in fact, Dwarves from Mordor. They were from some sort of blue mountain. Weren't all mountains sort of greying though? Or brown? Jorgy had never seen a blue mountain before and a very un-Hobbit (but also un-lava snake) like urge to visit them came into his mind. He turned to inform Pearl and Silas of this adventurous spirit but their (perfectly reasonable) reactions to what he believed was protection told him maybe to keep that to himself, his every thought need not be so vociferously vocalized.

He heard something about “ale” from the Dwarves and immediately what sort of thing that was. He gathered it was some sort of special drink from the way everyone seemed to gasp and laugh. Dwim, the leader of their troupe vanished behind the wagon with his canteen and for a moment, Jorgy thought his suspicions had been correct, but as soon as the thought came to him, he remembered he was not in Mordor anymore and these Dwarves were not going to try and eat them (Dwarves in the Black Lands, you see, often hunted and ate lava snakes).

“I’m sorry Pearl, Silas. I just had a bad feeling about them and wanted to protect you both. I’m glad it was just a bad feeling though and not real. I would be very sad if either of you got hurt. You're the first people to talk to me since I arrived and I thought…” he trailed off, blushing a bright crimson red. He had been about the say “and I thought we could be friends” but he lost his nerves. He tried to smile away the blush but it didn't seem to be working, his face reminded as flush as a tomato in full ripeness (though naturally Jorgy had not come across a tomato yet).He did not though, as Pearl asked him if he was kidding about the hay fever and Bywater. Of course he hadn't, he was still genuinely confused by the prospect of hay fever but he did not want to push his luck any further. She had been very patient with him and his oddities (those he knew about and those he did not) and he didn't wish to test the limits of a Hobbit lass’ patience.

Soon though, it seemed a line was forming around the Dwarves’ wagon. Whatever this ale was clearly it was very popular. Unfortunately, Jorgy had not had the foresight, or the foreknowledge, to bring a canteen so the discovery of what “ale" was and what it tasted like was going to have to wait. Of course, that was when he heard both Pearl and another Hobbit lass (Rilla) he’d yet to meet (but probably still annoyed) mention the word “elevensies" and his mind went racing. If anyone asked him about it, he had better have a good answer for once.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Rilla Banks

"I like the way you think, Silas!" She was relieved not to be the only one who wasn't keen to share food. "I'm certain dwarves don't eat bonbons or muffins." She spoke with much more confidence than she actually had. Rilla didn't know the first thing about dwarves. Just in case they liked strawberries, she plucked one of the last ones from her pocket and munched on it.

Rilla listened to the dwarves with rapt attention. Short on ale at the Green Dragon? Had there been some big party she wasn't invited to!? The dwarves barely finished inviting them to have a taste when Rilla was already dumping the liquid from one of her waterskins in favor of ale.

"Jorgy! Are you all right? You look a bit overheated!" His face was so red. With all this exercise and excitement under the sun, Rilla could understand feeling hot, though not that hot. Perhaps he had a delicate constitution. It hadn't occurred to her he might be embarrassed. "I think a bit of ale will do you some good! You can have some of mine." She held out her ale-filled waterskin to him before having any herself even though she was dying for a sip. He looked like he really needed it.

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Pearl Brockhouse

"Oh Jorgy, don't be so silly!" Pearl teased. She could tell her odd new friend was feeling a bit, well, odd, and she wanted to reassure him that they'd not taken offense. "We appreciate your protection, honest, it's just that these are harmless dwarves. I do understand being nervous about outsiders in the Shire, though!" She shuddered as she remembered the incident with the fellow with fiery hair and the tall ranger who'd come to cause mischief at the Dragon. "I've got some tales to tell about the Big Folk and no mistake! But that's for another time."

Pearl nodded approvingly as Rilla offered some ale to Jorgy. "Ale will help," she agreed matter-of-factly. "And you're all welcome to share the cheese and bread I brought when it comes time for elevenses!" She then asked kindly, "Do you all have that meal in your neck of the woods, Jorgy?"

Pearl's ears pricked at the phrases "Green Dragon" and "short on stock." How could this be? She had worked a shift at the Dragon not too long ago, and the ale was poured as usual with no talk of rationing or shortages. Her mind immediately raced to Lily, who ran the pub, and wondered if she was okay. What could have gone wrong? She drew a small bowl from inside her pack to use for sampling the dwarves' ale (she had neglected to bring a spare canteen).

"Excuse me!" she said, marching toward the small crowd that had gathered around the dwarves. "What's this about the Dragon being short on stock of ale? I work there, you see, and I've not heard anything about this." She eyed the dwarves and glanced at Dwim, who - as a brewer who'd sold his own ales at the Dragon before - might know something of this business.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Jorgy Underash

Whatever this “ale” was apparently it was very important to the Hobbits of the Shire. Yet Jorgy could not quite wrap his (definitely Hobbit) mind around what it was. It seemed to be a source of utter joy for some, yet a sort of confusion, consternation, and concern for others. Life in the Shire is clearly more complex than he could have imagined. Lava snakes, by comparison, were not near as complex. All of them either thought something was good (biting people and eating each other) or bad (getting chased and eaten by evil Dwarves) and there as not much discussion and debate about it. Well there was none at all over anything because lava snakes didn’t talk, they hissed and released pheromones.

Pearl seemed concerned over the mention of ale and it’s lack thereof in regards to a Green Dragon she worked for (wait, what? Jorgy thought there were no dragons here and here lo and behold his new best friend Pearl worked for one?!). Yet Rilla seemed just as eager as Pearl was concerned. She even offered Jorgy some! Had Jorgy found another friend? He dearly hoped so. He could use all the friend he could get! With Hobbits being as complex as they were, getting advice on how to Hobbit from multiple sources seemed like a fantastic idea. He could end up a very well rounded Hobbit indeed (and that went double for him actually being round with all the food they ate)!

“Oh! Thank you!” He accepted the waterskin and took a quick quaff. The liquid the filled his mouth was both the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted and the most bitter at the same time. No wonder there was such consternation! It was so delightful that Jorgy took a second gulp and immediately felt himself getting light headed. He handed the waterskin back to Rilla with a bow (nearly tripping over himself as he did).

Elevensies. He was going to have to think of something quick. Pearl had put on him on the spot so he was going to have to use both his snaky brain and his Hobbit brain (the admixture was still working itself out despite having a fully actual Hobbit brain) to figure out an answer. It definitely had to do with food. That much was clear from her mention of cheese and bread (mmmm cheese and bread). However, having no concept of what time was or how it was measured, he could not possibly comprehend that the meal was meant to be consumed at eleven. He could, however, count to eleven (and much higher he could be assured).

“Elevensies,” he began, paused as he swayed a little, “is a meal that… we Hobbits eat in which we devour voracious qualities of bread and cheese and ale, usually in rounds of eleven, hence the name of the meal ‘Elevensies’ for the eleven courses to it.” He felt quite proud of himself for his explanation, he thought it a very well thought out argument and even if he was wrong, Dwim wasn’t in the vicinity to call him a washed hog.

He stumbled a bit and everything seemed go wonky. He had never had alcohol, as a Hobbit or a lava snake, and his first experience with it was to say, he was a very much a light weight. He sat down hard on the grass and grinned like an idiot. “I think I really like that ale,” he said.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Image Henna Lightfoot

Henna's ears pricked up as Jorgy began speaking, tongue loosened by the ale. She scooted closer in order to hear him better and a massive grin began to form on her face. Clearly this Jorgy was a hobbit of infinite-resource and sagacity, despite his lovelorn state. One of the old eccentric families, no doubt.

As he plopped down on the grass, she plonked herself down next to him and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Jorgy, is it? I'm Henna. Now I've obviously been doing Elevensies wrong all my life, with just a little smackerel of something at eleven in the morning. I expect people have been laughing at me for years. Tell me what goes on in these eleven courses I should have been having! It sounds very nice, but they'd need to be small to fit in luncheon soon after, but I'm intrigued."

She frowned. "I expect there ought to be a cheese course - would that be with biscuits or crackers, or fruit? And where would it come in the order of things? A little nibble of pork pie? Maybe a sandwich. Maybe a little bitesize cake at the end? Come on, lad, I need to know!"
The Wood-elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon, but loved best the stars.

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Pearl Brockhouse

The dwarves and Dwim were silent when it came to her question about the Green Dragon, no doubt because they were crowded by Walking Club members all waiting for ale. "Hrmph!" Pearl muttered as she filled her bowl from the keg. She took a sip, eyeing the crowd and wishing someone would answer her question. When it became apparent that no answers were forthcoming, she sighed and walked back to Jorgy. He had just taken a sip of Rilla's ale and looked pleasantly surprised by the drink. She tried to catch Rilla's eye to see if the other lass had noticed how delightfully strange Jorgy was. Pearl gazed at him curiously once more, noting his reaction to the ale - who'd heard of a hobbit his age who hadn't tried his gaffer's brew at least once? She then listened as he described the style of elevenses where he came from. She sipped her ale and let the drink linger on her tongue for a while, savoring the fruity notes and enjoying how the bubbles rose into her nose as she swallowed.

It certainly seemed that elevenses was serious business, wherever Jorgy had come from. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "I can see now why you all might not have had many second breakfasts, with elevenses that grand." She took another sip of her ale and almost snorted the drink out of her nose when Jorgy plopped down onto the grass as if reeling with tipsiness after one sip!

She listened as Henna questioned Jorgy further about the fancy style of elevenses in the Southfarthing. She didn't want to interrupt their conversation but nodded along as Henna ruminated on the various possible courses. She took the final few sips of her ale, wiped her mouth, and sat down to hear more about these fanciful elevenses.

OOC:
I'm not at all grumpy about Dwim and the dwarves' lack of response, just didn't want to wait forever while he's on vacation. :lol:
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Menolly yawned and blinked against the dappled sun that landed on her face. After a biscuit, and some berries, and some of that tasty sausage, and a bit of relish, she had sat down with her back against the tree with a full stomach and heavy eyes, listening to the chatter around her. But apparently she had underestimated how tiring her hurried walk from Bywater was, because now as she opened her eyes she realized the other walkers had moved on and left her napping!

Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, Menolly scooped up her pack and hurried after them. She hadn't even had a sip of ale or anything. Although...a pint of ale would go down a treat just now. Fortunately she heard voices as she came down the next hill, including a pair of gruff voices she could have sworn belonged to dwarves. And by the look of it, they had some ale!

She wasted no time unscrewing her canteen and gulping down the water inside until it was empty. She hated to waste water, but hated to miss a refreshing glass (or canteen) of ale even more! As she held out her canteen hoping for a pour from the barrel, she noticed Jorgy was looking a bit...odd. Odder than usual, that was. She took her ale with a polite nod to the dwarves and pulled up a patch of grass next to Henna and Jorgy and their talk of elevensies.

"Are you feeling quite all right, Jorgy?" she asked, hiding a smile. "I have to say I've never heard of having courses for elevensies, only a bite to eat to tide oneself over until luncheon." She took a sip of the ale, appreciating the good hearty flavor. "And what's this I hear about an ale shortage?" she asked Pearl. "I would think you'd be the first to know, working at the Dragon! I know I've put away a fair share of ale in my time there, but I wouldn't think I could cause a shortage!"
they/them/actual hobbit in search of a merrier world

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Jorgy Underash

For some reason only the Powers could understand (and perhaps not even them) Jorgy had become the center of attention. However, as he was still reeling from his first ever (followed quickly second ever) sip of ale. He was temporarily lost in a dreamy haze. It was the best thing he'd ever had! He wondered where it came from. The other Hobbits must know. Before he could open his mouth to ask all the Hobbits gathered of there was a river of ale somewhere in the Shire, one of them plonked right on the grass next to him. “Hello, Henna! It's very nice to meet you. I am indeed Jorgy.” His tone, however, did not match the conspiratorial nature of Henna’s whisper. No, being unable to control his volume (having ale made a difficult task even more difficult for the new, young Hobbit), he very mostly shouted it. At least, judging from his sudden embarrassed expression, he realized he made an error In volume and overcompensated by whispering as quietly as his weird little brain could. “Eleven in the morning? Well I suppose that would make sense.” (please recall that Jorgy had no concept time measurements) “We are talking about it before supper which comes much later.” (this is information that has randomly and inexorably found its way into Jorgy's brain.) He paused and thought about her next question. It would require much thinking in very little time and, as previously seen, Jorgy is not the best at that. “Ale. Lots of ale. And yes, cheese and crackers, and fruits like apples, but not rocks, and I’ve never heard of a pork pie but I’m sure it’s there too.” How many was that now Jorgy? “Oh, and bonbons. And maybe not sand witches, those are hard to come by and can be very dangerous. I knew someone who was cursed by a sand witch once, he tasted nothing but ferret for the rest of his life. Muffins too, definitely muffins, I love a good muffin.” What was it he once heard a Hobbit call him when he was a snake? A danger noodle? A sausage? Better add both. “and have you ever had danger noodles? Quite good. And sausage. And cake!” Jorgy had no idea how many things he had named but it seemed good to wrap up his rambly speech.

As he wrapped up, both Pearl and Menolly (he’d heard someone call her that) sat down on the grass with him. He smiled goofily at both of them. While very much enjoying the attention he was receiving, it had utterly escaped his notice, likely because of the ale, that each of them had described elevensies as something very different from what he believed. “I'm feeling absolutely magnificent and stupendous!” He declared triumphantly to Menolly when she asked if he was quite alright. “Are you quite alright too?”

He laid back in the soft grass and instantly felt like looking at the clouds. In Mordor he had never wanted to share at them, they were ugly and boring and, of course, he had no concept of imagination. Now though, now he was overflowing with oddball ideas. There hamsters running around in the sky, he could see their shapes in the clouds. They are all running from something though. Something big and scary. A dragon! No, it wasn’t a dragon in the sky! He came out of his reverie upon hearing “the Dragon" with no context whatsoever (not that context would have helped anyway). “A dragon!? Where? Oh goodness we need to run and hide!”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Reichart Fatty ~Hobbit NPC

The dwarves were not aggressive at all! In fact, they turned out to be simple, yet nice-mannered, travelers from the Blue Mountains. That place-name held the young hobbit in awe. He had never seen any mountains (except for the ones on maps) and wondered what they would look like. He nearly asked the dwarves to bring him with them, so he could experience what it was to climb a mountain, but at that very moment the Wizard Ducky patted him on the shoulder. Dik beamed. To be acknowledged by a Wizard on his first outing! Could this day get any better?
Still, his hobbit curiousity could not be dampened and he asked Tomren and Emren:
"But wait, you are cousins? First cousins or are you further removed?"

For some in their little club it apparently could, especially when de dwarves offered some of the beer they were carting off to their kin in the Blue Mountains. A sudden rush of wind streaked past Dik as Dwim rushed to the cart to get his fill. The young hobbit decided against having a taste, especially because it had not been noon yet and also because he had never had any ale before. "Beer is for bums" his mother had always told him (especially on the nights his da came back from the pub too late) and he did not want to seem a bum.

The other hobbits seemed to relax, too. Even the... Wait Dik interrupted his own thoughts. Had not the hobbit that had jumped in front of some of the other members of the Walking Club, introduced himself to the rotund youngster? And had he completely ignored it, just because he was so busy with catching up and having a rushed second breakfast? Dik felt his cheeks redden from embarrassment. Here there had been a nice stranger looking to make friends and he had not even bothered to say "How do you do."
"Nice going, Dik" he grumbled, muttering to himself as other hobbits passed by to get their fill of beer "great way to make friends!"
Most other hobbits did not seem to have a problem with the hour or the ale and walked to the back of the cart. Some, however, were interrogating the dwarven cousins about the shortage of beer in the Green Dragon. Dik felt a little shy for not joining in. Should he? He did not really want to drink, but maybe it would help him?
He was still deliberating all this, when Jorgy started talking about a rather grand way of eating elevenses. The young hobbit's mouth stood agape. Eleven courses!? He had never heard of that. They must be really rich in the Southfarthing to have such feasts every day. In any case, they might be weird and rich, they still knew how to party. Dik shuffled a little closer to the group as Henna started interrogating the southerner.
Some think to be strong is to be hard like stone. Others know to be strong is to endure like stone.

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Image Henna Lightfoot

With the conversation flowing out of this by-the-looks-of-him-drunk young hobbit, and various folks sidling up to hear, Henna picked a handful of grass and clover and threw it at Menolly to shut her up. How was she to get this odd creature to talk now?

But thankfully, after some wittering on about it not being suppertime, Jorgy was in fact talking about the food.

She thought she was beginning to see his problem when he began his list with lots and lots of ale. This also might be her problem shortly, but no one was having lots and lots of ale daily, why, nothing would ever get done! Still perhaps his family had folk in to do for them, and therefore could live any old decadent, loose moralled life they pleased?

But anyway, she withdrew a small notebook and pencil and began making notes.

Different types of ale

As he began reeling off things, she added them to her list, with a great deal of muttering.

Cheese and crackers
Fruits - like apples? Pears?
Pork pie


Never heard of pork pie? Where did he live, with goblins?

Bonbons
No sandwiches??????


Henna desperately wanted to interrupt his monologue here, but it seemed he was on a roll. Hmm, maybe a roll would allay his fears about ferret sandwiches with a nasty aftertaste. She was sure she wouldn't want a ferret sandwich either. What funny ideas some folk had.

Rolls
Muffins


She desperately wanted to know whether it was a normal toasted muffin, or whether she could supplant it with either the cheese, or cinnamon and raisin varieties she'd been trialling.

Danger ... noodles? Here, Henna mouthed the words with a perplexed (some might even say, vacant) expression, but then it cleared as she remembered a meal she'd had in Bree some years ago when they had some visiting southerners in and old Butterbur was trying out new kwiseen apparently. The long thin tricky noodles, which did not want to get on a fork, were terribly terribly spicy, and -while delicious- had had a particularly warm and dangerous quality for the unsuspecting bathroom-goer some hours after. It was therefore with some trepidation that she wrote it down. It was probably how he kept so slim. Oh what was that? Sausage? What, on its own? Since he was moving on, she wrote it down and hurried to keep up.

Danger noodles
Sausage
Cake


Henna looked back over her list. It was only ten items long, but apparently the ale had gone to Jorgy's head and he was distracted. She thought she could do something with this list - though it seemed more like party food than daily consumption - and resolved to invite some folks round for elevensies sometime. She would just have to make up the final item on the list and hope it didn't ruin the whole effect.

When Jorgy began squawking about the Dragon though, she just nodded wisely and patted his leg.

"We are quite far from the Dragon now, youngster, no need to run anywhere. I had a funny dream about that place," she said. "Ate a blue cake there and it made me fly!"
The Wood-elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon, but loved best the stars.

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Silas Hardwick

Free ale! What a delightful thought. Silas instantly concluded that dwarves were all Wonderful Fellows. How generous of them!

But wait. Did he have any receptacle with which to receive this incredible gift?

Silas began patting himself down hastily. His waistcoat was full of pockets and those pockets were full of things - working in the Mathom-house, Silas was always tucking things away to work on or examine later. Sometimes to his detriment.

Contents of Silas’ pockets:

2 pieces of string;
1 pocketwatch on brass chain;
1 small bottle containing a feather;
2 handkerchiefs;
3 spare buttons;
1 bag of Bon-Bons;
A handful of miscellaneous small coins;
2 safety-pins;
1 pocket knife;
1 notebook and pencil;
1 sock (why???)
2 clothes pegs
1 string of beads
Many crumbs

Silas contemplated these all thoughtfully and mournfully. Not one of these items was suitable for storing ale. Perhaps the tiny bottle with the feather in... but no, he needed it to protect the feather. Such a shame!
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It did not surprise Ducky in the slightest that at the most minor of distractions, a group of hobbits seized the opportunity to eat more food. To be fair, it had been an active hour or so. Even Ducky felt like eating a bit of cheese and a cracker or two. Wizards were not immune to the call of the stomach. He was going to spoil his lunch if he ate too much though.

He felt a bit strange just hovering. The hobbits were getting really into the elevensies thing, it seemed, and looming over their shoulder would probably make some of them really nervous. He definitely didn't want to be seen as trying to steal their food or anything. So after shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other, Ducky decided to take off up the nearest hill, wanting to get a vantage point. He wasn't really nervous or looking for danger at this point, just a beautiful sight. They were all over the place in the Shire. What would there to be seen over the nearest hill?

That question drove Ducky many a day.

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Rilla Banks

Rilla was pleased Jorgy enjoyed the ale. She caught Pearl's glance and grinned at her. Yes, of course, she had noticed how odd this hobbit was, but she was polite enough to refrain from saying so out loud. Rilla assumed he must be from very far south in the Southfarthing. It was possible he'd just smoked a little too much pipeweed in his young years and it had addled his brain a bit. It must be hard to pace yourself living in the heart of pipeweed country.

However, she couldn't stop herself snickering when he pronounced an eleven-course elevensies. Rilla plopped down by the others and sipped her ale while she listened to his extensive list of foods. Maybe he'd invite her round for elevensies sometime! It sounded marvelous.

"She means the Green Dragon," she told Jorgy attempting to mollify his concerns. He sure was a nervous fellow. "You know, the pub? Not a real dragon. Didn't you know there aren't any dragons left anymore if they ever really existed at all?" It took more imagination than Rilla had to believe that something as scary as dragons had ever existed no matter what was in the old tales.

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Pearl Brockhouse

Pearl leaned in to whisper conspiratorially with Menolly. "Well, that's just the thing. I didn't know a thing about this, and those dwarves wouldn't say a word on the subject beyond that there was a shortage. I'm quite worried about Lily now! Have you heard anything from her lately?"

She continued to fret about Lily (and her own prospects for continued employment, to be honest) as Jorgy rattled off the names of the courses he and his family ate for elevenses. In spite of her worry, she smiled when Henna pulled a notepad from her bag to record all of Jorgy's various foods. When he mentioned "danger noodles," Pearl tilted her head curiously at him once again.

"What are danger noodles like, Jorgy?" she asked. "Are they perhaps a choking hazard? My brother chokes on his food all the time when he's eating too fast!"

When Henna mentioned blue cake and flying, Pearl gave a loud yelp. She clapped a hand over her mouth quickly as if to erase her reaction, but it was too late. Eyes wide, she grinned sheepishly at the group. "Oh, my, um, uh, what an odd dream!" she said awkwardly, not wishing to intimate that she'd actually seen Henna eat the cake and go floating off down the lane. If the woman wanted to think it an odd dream, Pearl wasn't going to burst that bubble just now.

She was grateful that Rilla intervened when Jorgy began to panic a bit about the presence of dragons. "She's right, Jorgy dear!" Pearl chimed in when she had calmed down a bit from the memory of that blue cake. "I work there, actually! You should come visit sometime when I'm working. You all should!"

Seeing Dik had wandered over to their little spot, she waved him closer. "Come join us, Dik! We're just talking about elevenses and the Green Dragon. You've been there, I'd hope?"
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Jorgy Underash

Jorgy was very much enjoying being the center of attention, even if he had no idea why he was. He had just finished him soliloquy about his version of elevensies (good gracious that’s a lot of food Jorgy!) and seemed to have them all enthralled. It was rather unfortunate that he had no idea what he was talking about. Somehow Jorgy had stumbled upon the gift of oratory. Perhaps it was the ale that made him as eloquent as he was. He definitely needed more of that wonderful stuff as soon as he had a mug to put it in.

There was something curious about Henna. She seemed less patient with him than Pearl and Rilla (Silas seemed to have given up completely) but just as interested (or maybe it was just shear flabbergastery) in the inner works of Jorgy’s mind. She did keep using a word for him that felt unfamiliar. He tilted his head like a confused puppy every time heard it. “Youngster” what on earth did that mean? He recognized the word young, but the ‘ster’ part threw him off the trail. His brain tried to figure it out but somehow only came up with young people stirring, and that made no sense to him. She looked very wise to him and he instinctively knew that she would never say anything that made no sense. He would have to ask her about it later though. She had already moved on to a new topic. Something about the Dragon that lived and how they all served it (he assumed they all served it, Dragons were rather persnickety that way).

“You ate blue cake and flew?!” Jorgy’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never gotten to fly. I mean I did once when a man shot me out of a catapult but that wasn’t really flying, or fun. I screamed the whole way until I landed in a tree. I was stuck there for three days until the branch I was on broke.”

Rilla spoke next and her words altered Jorgy’s view of the world forever. So the dragon… wasn’t a dragon. But it was a dragon, it was a green dragon. The Green Dragon. How odd. Was green an especially unique color when it came to dragons? It must be with awe and reverence everyone, even the dwarves and wizard, showed it. Then she used a word that was so short that he almost missed it. A pub? What’s a pub? Is it a place? Maybe it was the name of a town like Bywater. However, rather than show off his ignorance of places and place names he put a well knowing smile (what that was and how he knew to do that is an utter mystery). “Oh a pub! Well that makes much more sense. Surely it couldn’t have been a real dragon after all! Those never would come to the Shire.”

He laid back down in the grass and sighed. He’d never felt grass like this before today. Normally he felt nothing but rocks, ash, and lava. This was infinitely better than those. He wished he’d become a Hobbit sooner so he could lay happily in the grass. Imagine all the time he’d lost already! Oh the wasted leftovers!*

“What are danger noodles like, Jorgy?”

That question from Pearl caught him off guard. Never in a million years (could he actually count that high?) would he have expected to answer what a danger noodle was. Why he never expected this is yet another mystery because really, who uses the term danger noodle in every day conversation?

“Uh… um….” Jorgy’s previously grand oratory skills, so recently discovered, utterly abandoned him in that moment. “Danger noodles are…” come on Jorgy think, think! “very spicy noodles. They’re my favorite kind. They have a very nice bite.”

And thus Jorgy made his first pun, if only he knew what that was.

OOC: (All credit goes to @Tarawen for that wonderful line )
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Pearl Brockhouse

Jorgy continued to spew strange stories into the Shire. He'd been shot from a catapult once? "Who was this man, Jorgy? Was he - " she looked around furtively " - one of the Big People?" She was becoming a bit concerned that her new friend might have an enemy following him into the peaceful Shire and was anxious for both his well-being and the tranquility of her homeland.

Speaking of danger, Jorgy was now explaining danger noodles. Apparently, they were his favorite food despite indulging in such fanciful eleven-course meals every day. They must be good.

"I'd love to try eating some danger noodles sometime!" Pearl replied cheerily. Having grown up with perfectly sensible hobbit tastes, she had never eaten much spicy food. She supposed this might be yet another way in which the folk of the Southfarthing differed from the people of Bywater. "Maybe you can cook some up for the Walking Club members sometime."

Imagine a hobbit traveling from the southest Southfarthing to speak to them all about eleven-course elevenses and danger noodles while never having heard of second breakfast! This was the kind of tale she'd like to tell her two younger siblings to amuse them. She giggled to herself as she imagined how they would respond to the stories, and then laughed harder when she pictured what would happen if they actually met Jorgy one day. There would be an abundance of silliness, that was for sure.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Rilla Banks

"You work at the Green Dragon?" she asked Pearl with wide eyes. She was quite impressed. "Its been too long since I've been there...yes, we should all go and have a pint there together and say hello! I'll make it a priority once we're back from our Walk."

Rilla shook her head and laughed. Had Jorgy never heard of the Green Dragon before? In any case, she was glad he seemed more calm now, though still as strange as ever. She was puzzled about his catapult story and was glad Pearl asked about it. "If Big People are catapulting hobbits through the air, do you think we should tell someone? Maybe Ducky knows something about it. He's big." Where had the wizard gone off to?

"Danger noodles..." Rilla mused and scratched her chin. "I'm not a lover of anything too spicey, as it tends to take over all the other flavors, but I'll try anything once." She shrugged. "Who knows! Maybe they'll end up in my book. I'm hoping to write all about the best Shire-foods and where to find them and I do think something that rare could very well end up on the front cover."

But if she ever finished her book (which was very far away as she hadn't started it yet), she would find out that Danger Noodles would not likely make the front cover because hobbits would not buy a book with anything so exotic on the front. But it was a nice thought for a hobbit unwise about publishing and how to market books.

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Image Henna Lightfoot

Henna closed her eyes, listening to the talk of the others with half an ear, but her mind was wholly focused on the menu for her next Elevensies party. She would invite her neighbours, and maybe some of her new friends from this walking club. There would be sliced grape and cheese mini-towers to start, followed by tiny honey and bacon tarts, served with ale. Then she would have three-tiered tiny toasted sandwiches with mushroom, cheese and egg, and after that perhaps tiny sausages served with a slice of buttered boiled potato - then maybe a flaky pastry roll with crunchy nut butter, or individual little sponge cakes, or flapjack bites, and definitely that liqueur that Old Tom brought back from Bree that time, and maybe a slice of pork pie and maybe some devilled eggs earlier on. In fact, she scrapped the whole menu and began again: tiny bacon sandwiches and a small glass of pressed apple juice ...

It was a warm day, and with the ale warming her insides, Henna felt very relaxed and comfortable. The grass was delightful and fresh, and incidentally smelt like her washing. When she rolled over slightly to fluff her pillow [Menolly's leg] she found it very warm and soft and with a little snuggle she settled in and was soon snoring softly.

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[OOC All: I am so sorry for the delay in getting back to this. Thank you for your patience. After my vacation I found it hard to get back into the swing of RP. But I must say all of these posts in my absence were hilarious, and perfect examples of hobbit conversation. And now I'm looking forward to continuing the rest of our journey!]

The two dwarves, the first cousins Tormen and Ermen, provided excellent conversation. Dwim had been so deep in conversation with them in between sips of the recently acquired ale, that he had been most oblivious to the rustlings of intrigue which had spread amongst the group. When the two dwarves finally decided it was time to be on their way, they cheerily waved goodbye to everyone and moved on. Then Dwim was afforded some time to focus back in on the club, and he quickly realised that two major issues of conversation had cropped up amongst the group.

The first issue was the mystery of the ale shortage at the Green Dragon. Pearl was particularly concerned, with good reason, as she did indeed work there. Fortunately, the dwarves had shed some light on this issue to him, and he was quick to inform everyone. "Oh yes, oh yes. It took me quite by surprise too. For when has the Dragon ever been short of ale? Tormen mentioned something about a 'Happy Hour All Day' event. Apparently it was so popular, they were almost out of ale by the usual time of happy hour at 4 pm!"

The other issue concerned the matter of elevensies. It turned out that different hobbits had different ideas about the meal. For some it was even an eleven course event! Dwim did not quite make out the whole of what was going on, but everyone seemed to be quite enthusiastic about what all could be eaten at that hour. He did not quite have the heart to tell them that he'd intended for the group to skip elevensies today. They'd already tarried for quite some time this morning. His plan was to have them all the way up the hill in time for lunch. It seemed that decision may not go down so well. But he decided to try and gloss over it to get everyone moving. For some of the hobbits were already sitting back down again (mainly the younger ones who had quite taken to Jorgy, who was looking quite drunk already. He could also not help but notice Henna as she snored peacefully on the grass.)

Dwim knocked his walking stick on the road and cleared his throat loudly. "I am most sorry for the delay. As I said earlier, we will head up the hill now, through the winding paths. It should be quite fantastic. Please do look behind you every now and again to enjoy the view. Although the real treat will come when we reach the top, where we will enjoy our lunch."

With that, he turned to the south and began the trek up into Green-hill Country. At first the path took them past many homes built into the foot of the hill. Many a hobbit eyed them curiously from their front porches as they passed. Some were sure to avoid eye contact. The walking club had a small reputation for visiting strange places and stirring up trouble. The former rumour may have been true, but the latter was hardly.

The further up the hill the group went, the more the hobbit homes began to thin out, although the path was no less winding. It went this way and that up the hill and became more narrow the further up they went. The grass on each side was very overgrown, and at times Dwim found himself using his walking stick to whack long blades of grass out of the way. But he enjoyed this, being at the head of the group and taking them to new places. It was his favourite thing to do.

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Silas Hardwick

Silas packed his belongings mournfully back into his waistcoat. Perhaps someone else later would let him try some of the ale - or perhaps they would stop at one of the taverns on the way there? Or at least, on the way back again? The thought cheered him, even as he caught a fragment of conversation from the others. Danger noodles? “What exactly makes them so dangerous, Jorgy?” Silas asked, a trifle nervously.

But ho - it was time to move on again! Good gracious, Miss Henna looked to have fallen asleep. On Miss Menolly, no less. Silas cleared his throat politely. “I think we’re moving on now,” he called as he stretched his legs out, ready to get going again...
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Image Henna Lightfoot

The twitching of her pillow was extremely vexing. Henna punched it in case it had mice. (That'd happened once when she'd fallen asleep in a room full of flour sacks.) Still, her pillow removed itself immediately, which disturbed her, and she blinked awake in the sunshine to see Master Dwim heading up the hill alone and a young Hardwick (she wasn't sure how that name had made it into her brain) was eyeing her sideways as he did some strange bending and toe-pointing. Was she still dreaming, or was he a little touched?

"That's a delicate cough you have there, young man," she said carefully, fluffing her curls back to buoyancy and watching him for sudden movements.

Surreptitiously wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she scrambled to her feet, hastening off after the leader. She had a pan to put into her basket, and the pony was way ahead. She made a fine figure of a very short fat woman, half-running across a field uphill holding a saucepan. Nope. Nothing strange going on here at all.

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Menolly was quite happy to sit on the grass, tasting the ale and watching Jorgy get steadily and entertainingly drunker. She whispered back to Pearl, "I haven't seen Lily lately! I'm a bit worried about her too. And about the ale supply at the Dragon, to be honest." Despite concerns about the ale, Menolly was quite content on the warm grass. She didn't even mind when Henna laid down with her head on Menolly's leg for a pillow. She did have a rather squishy leg after all, the byproduct of many a good meal and half pint at the Green Dragon. But when Dwim called for them all to assemble, and she attempted to slide out from under Henna's head, the old lady reached back and walloped her in the thigh, muttering something about mice.

"Ouch!" Menolly exclaimed, drawing back just as Henna sprang up and ran across the field, brandishing a saucepan. "Uh...Henna?" Menolly called after her. "Are you quite all right?" She got to her own feet, wincing as she felt a bruise rise up right where Henna had punched her. Between this and the scraped knee, still bandaged with Rilla's lovely green scarf, Menolly was starting to feel like walking club was indeed a perilous adventure.
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Rilla Banks
While they sat and talked and Henna fell asleep on Menolly's leg which appeared to be most uncomfortable for the younger hobbit, Rilla drained the last of the dwarven ale. When she tried to take another sip and found it empty, she pouted. "Oh no...its all gone," she said mournfully.

When Dwim returned and announced the Green Dragon ran out of ale because of a very special event that she had missed and been totally unaware of, she gasped. "A Happy Hour ALL DAY?!" she exclaimed then turned to Pearl. "You will have to let me know next time the Green Dragon has one I simply cannot miss the next one or I'll die! No wonder they ran out!" It was a very good thing she now had insider information on the pub's events.

With that, she shouldered her pack and picked up her walking stick and set off with the rest of the group. Positively bouncing (even after all the snacks and ale - it would take more than that to weigh down one Miss Sasparilla Brandybuck-Banks), she wove her way through the group and made her way to the front.

"Hey there, Dwim! Have you ever met those dwarves before?" she asked with wide eyes. The leader of their group seemed very wise and well-informed about the world to her. "They were very nice, weren't they? I haven't met many dwarves myself but I sure would like to meet more! How about you?"

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Pearl Brockhouse

Pearl had drifted off into a daydream. She was contemplating her next baking project - perhaps some nice braided loaves of bread to share with friends over a pint at the Dragon! That is, if the Dragon hadn't fully run out of ale by the time she returned to Bywater. She was just about to express her worries again when Dwim walked over after speaking to the dwarves and explained that the Dragon had simply had an all-day happy hour and thus had run low on stock temporarily. "Oh! Well, if it's just temporary, I'm sure Lily is doing fine!" she said to Menolly, on whom Henna had fallen asleep.

"I've never worked an all-day happy hour!" she went on, turning to Rilla. "It sure sounds like quite a joyous event, doesn't it? Perhaps a bit exhausting, but very fun. I'll definitely let you know if there is another in the future, though I may need to ask Lily about planning ahead for the depletion of her stock!" She smiled, then flinched when Henna unexpectedly punched Menolly in the leg as she woke from her nap. Pearl hopped to her feet, alarmed. "Menolly! Are you alright?" She reached out a hand to help brace her friend when she stood. "Goodness, this trip is turning quite perilous for you! We'll have to wrap you in pillows for the next outing."

It was time to move on. Pearl stretched her arms overhead and turned to see if the others were ready to go. To her surprise, her enthusiastic new friend Jorgy had fallen fast asleep in the grass. Hmm, he sure was sensitive to ale. Pearl walked over to him and nudged him in the ribs with her toes. "Jorgy!" she called, a bit louder than she normally might - he did need to wake up to walk on with the group, after all. "We're ready to head out! Time to get up!"

With that, she turned to follow the group into Green-Hill Country. She gazed appreciatively at the bright doors and flourishing gardens of the smials they passed, then inhaled deeply as they moved on into wilder lands, enjoying the smell of warm grass under the midday sun as they climbed.
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Dwim continued strolling up the hill, deep in his own thoughts, whacking long overgrown blades of grass out of the way here and there. He had much to think about. When they'd begun the latest stretch of their walk, he'd heard Rilla and Pearl discussing the ale shortage at the Green Dragon and the 'Happy Hour All Day' event. He'd very recently began supplying his own brew of ale to the pub, McBob McFee, which was beginning to make a name for itself. But now he had the thought that if the Dragon was selling out of beer on its busiest days, perhaps he was not pulling his own weight in supplying enough of it. For sure, there was only a niche market for his brew and the pub really hadn't asked for that much of it. It was still classed as a craft beer and only the more adventurous Tooks seemed to be the ones buying it. But one thing was he certain of; if it was the only beer left when all the other taps had run dry, the Hobbits of Bywater would be sure to give his a try. He resolved to do some research in expanding his brewing capabilities when he got back home. Perhaps a trip to the Strawberrystar Brewery would not be amiss.

That was an awful lot of thinking, of which he was suddenly pulled out of when he looked back to see how everyone was going. It was then he noticed the poor old lady Henna running up the hill waving her frying pan in the air. "Oh my," he said to himself about the poor old hobbit. He'd rushed off far too quickly with the pony. He hurriedly dashed back down the path towards her.

"Mrs. Lightfoot, I am so sorry! Perry and I were so eager to get a move on that we forgot to ask if you were okay." He shook his head in embarrassment, then pulled Perry further down the trail towards her, so that she could stash the pan and whatever else she needed to with the rest of her belongings.

His sudden stop had also allowed Rilla to catch up with him. "Hey Rilla!" he greeted her with a wide grin. He hadn't had much of a chance to talk with her yet, so he was glad when she approached. It became clear quite quickly that she was very interested in the dwarves they'd encountered. "No, I've never met Tormen and Ermen before," he replied. "But I'm glad we did! They were friendly dwarves and good for a chat. We resolved to find each other again one day and share a drink at the Green Dragon, when they have their ales back in stock of course." She mentioned that she'd not met many dwarves before and would like to meet more. "I've not met too many either," he said. "The only times have been on the road. I met an eccentric dwarf once in Bree and managed to sell some crystals to him. He was also from the Blue Mountains! It sounds like an amazing place. Perhaps I'll see those mountains one day..."

As they continued to march up the hill, he began to picture what the Blue Mountains might actually be like. He imagined dwarves clothed in funny colours, tried to think what hills of blue may actually look like, and wondered what it would be like to hunt for crystals. It all sounded quite fantastic to him, but he decided he'd better keep those thoughts to himself.

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"Oh, thank you," Menolly said to Pearl as she reached out for the offered steadying hand. "I wish I could say things like this didn't always happen to me, but I seem to have two left feet as it is, and then there's been some unexpected violence from Henna, of all hobbits! I do hope she's all right." She took a few hesitant steps and although her leg hurt, it certainly didn't hurt enough to keep her from missing out on this adventure. "Perhaps I should be wrapped up in pillows like you suggested!"

The ache in her leg faded and was forgotten as she hurried to catch up with Rilla and Dwim. Upon watching Dwim whacking blades of grass out of the way with his walking stick, she exclaimed, "I know what's wrong! I left home without my walking stick! No wonder I keep tripping over my own two feet. Who ever heard of going on a walking club adventure with no walking stick? Dwim, do you know if there are any likely trees once we make it through Green-hill Country? The land here doesn't look like it's offering up any walking sticks, but perhaps I could scavenge one from a fallen branch before we make it too much further."
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Jorgy

At some point during the conversation, Jorgy had fallen asleep in the green hill. It was the best place in all the world to fall asleep. His last thoughts as he drifted off were of the sky and the wild and varied hues of blue and white he saw. When he lived back in, well when he lived in a place that was not the Shire, he never got to do this. He was never able to put his hands behind his head, lay on grass softer than pillows, and fall asleep watching the clouds. This was due to the fact that he hadn’t had arms back then, or grass as soft as a pillow (he had had sticker weeds to try and nestle in but I don’t need to say how bad those are), or for that matter, clouds that had any shape over that depressing sheets of doom and no color but ashen grey.

He slept and dreamed. Yes, Jorgy did in fact dream, Silas might be interested to know that. He dreamed of dancing in waterfalls and swimming (or at least flailing in the water) with all his newfound friends. He dreamed that shapes in the clouds became giants and they had to fight them off with naught but sticks and stones. But they did! And they were still on time for dinner.

He awoke to the sound of Pearl shouting his name and kicking him (okay it was a nudge but Jorgy intended to be devious and pretend it was a kick when he wanted an extra helping of whatever they were eating next). It was time to go!

“Oh boy!” He jumped up in a flash and, remember that he was a little tipsy still, promptly fell on his butt. He laughed heartily then, perhaps the first time as a Hobbit, a deep belly laugh that devolved into a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh. “You know Pearl,” he said with a very, very foolish grin. “I have decided that laughter is one of best Hobbit things. I am going to laugh every day.”

He shook his head, clearing the last of the sleep laden cobwebs and stood up again. “So where is Mister Dwim taking us to next?”

As a perspective gentlehobbit, Jorgy should have offered his elbow to Pearl but having no idea about Hobbit manners in such instances, he simply grinned. At the very least, he did not dash off and leave Pearl all by herself, even he knew that would be rude.
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Rilla Banks
Rilla did not mind the tall grass one bit and she merely trudged right on through it with very little grace. "Oh wow! You've met more dwarves than me then!" She exclaimed to Dwim but she didn't understand why the dwarf would want to buy crystals unless they were edible, smoke-able or had some kind of magic powers. Was there some story about magic stones or jewellery?

"Were they magic crystals?" She blurted out, just dying to know. Maybe Dwim knew where to get his hands on magic jewellery. He seemed like the type of hobbit who would know these things.

When Menolly caught up, Rilla turned to her and gasped. "You forgot your walking stick?! Oh well, no wonder you fell!" She shook her head and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Once we find some good trees, I'll come help you find a stick! It won't be as nice as mine of course, but I guess it'll do the job." She eyed her own walking stick with a fond eye.

"Now shh, Dwim is going to tell me all about magic crystals and where I can find some!" she whispered to Menolly.

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Dwim was pleased to have someone to talk to about things from outside of the Shire. Normally hobbits would quickly change the subject and pretend they hadn't heard him. But Rilla was interested in the dwarves, and perhaps even more interested in the crystals he'd mentioned. "Magic crystals!" he laughed cheerfully when she blurted it out. Almost as cheerfully as Jorgy had been laughing further down the road. "Well, perhaps. They were a set of three of the purest mountain crystals you could imagine, as clear as glass but brilliant to look at. If the light hit them just right, they created a kaleidoscope of colours. Dwarves are quite enamoured with these sorts of things, you see, and willing to pay a pretty penny if the quality is good."

Nothing very magical had happened while they'd been in his possession though. "I don't think these were too magic, unfortunately. Not that I tried to perform any... rituals, or anything like that. But the Dwarf did tell me that certain crystals and gems can have mysterious properties, like healing powers, or helping you relax, and that kind of thing. It all sounds very strange to me."

Where could Rilla find some though? "Well, I don't know, to be honest," he replied with an apologetic laugh. "Perhaps up at those Blue Mountains, maybe? I have been a collector of lots of unique things, which I sell at the Michel Delving market, but I've mostly always traded for them."

As they trudged up the hill, which was getting to its steepest point, Dwim noticed Menolly hurrying towards them. From the look on her face, it seemed as if she had something quite urgent to say. Oh! She'd forgotten her walking stick. "Rilla's right," he assured her. "There will be some good trees soon. In fact, after we reach the top of the hill and head east, we'll eventually come to quite a bit of forest. I'm sure by the end of the day you'll be sick of the sight of sticks! But yes, we'll help you find a good one." Then he looked down at his own and held it out for her. "And in the meantime, you can borrow mine. Please, take it."

He put his stick in front of Menolly so that she didn't really have any say in the matter, then turned his attention to something quite remarkable. They'd reached the top of the hill! The air was fresh up there, and the skies were clear. When he turned around to admire the view, he was quite blown away by it. Looking north away down the hill in the distance, they had a full view of Hobbiton, and Bywater, then the Water further east. And if they looked directly to their east, they could see the tops of the woodland trees which they would soon be walking through. As the different members of the group caught up and reached the top, his heart was so captured by the view, that he forgot to announce to them all that it was lunch time!

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Rilla Banks
Rilla's eyes grew as wide at Dwim's talk of crystals and magic and Blue Mountains. He may have said they had no magic but a kaleidoscope of colours sure sounded like it to her. She made up her mind right then and there to try to make some Dwarf friends and maybe even explore as far as the Blue Mountains someday. But maybe not by herself. Maybe the Walking Club could go there next and Dwim could lead them on a grand adventure.

"I'll stop by your shop sometime and take a look!" She promised Dwim. "That all sounds very exciting..." She lagged behind, lost in a daydream of herself clad in bejeweled clothes with a diamond-studded walking stick, clanking mugs of ale with her newfound dwarf friends. Even if she hadn't been distracted, she would not have been so gracious to offer Menolly her walking stick. After all, then she'd just be the one to fall over and skin her knee.

Rilla was huffing and puffing when they reached the top of the hill. "Ohh," she murmured, taking in the view. "We've walked so far! Is that Woody End just ahead?" she asked hopefully, pointing at the trees to the east. Then she plopped down to rest her tired legs and pulled out her pipe for a well-earned smoke.

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Silas Hardwick

Silas was stifling a yawn. He hadn’t partaken of as deep and snuggly a nap as some of the other Hobbits had, but lunch was still sitting comfortably in his belly. He had scuttled a little distance away from where he’d been in the group - Henna had given Silas a penetrating stare that had unnerved him slightly. Was the old lady judging him? Perhaps his Mother had commissioned her to write a report on Silas’ behaviour on the trip?!

No, that was ridiculous, Silas told himself firmly. He set himself to the task of striding up the hill as briskly as his furry feet could carry him, taking great lungfuls of air to wake himself up properly.

The view at the top of the hill was certainly worth it: although Silas hadn’t appreciated it straight away, as he was half-bent over, bracing his hands on his thighs as he panted gently and surreptitiously undid a button of his waistcoat!

He was just in time to catch a snatch of conversation as the group collected at the top of the hill. “Magic crystals?” Silas blurted out, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds very interesting... Do you suppose there might be a place for them in the Mathom house? I’m thinking of starting a museum!”
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