* Meanwhile, a Cloaked Guest carrying a basket came riding bareback. Strangely enough, he was on a black horse very much resembling the wraith's. Though the horse was still a bit lean from having been underfed until just recently, a shining jet black mane and coat indicated otherwise glowing health. *
* Since the Cloaked Guest had changed his plans to attend what was sure to become a Picnic of Legend, he was only now just coming upon Crickhollow. The Cloaked Guest squinted under furrowed brows as he passed a house there, for wasn't that the pony cart of that fat, gaudy merchant Podo Cotton of Overhill parked outside? The Cloaked Guest was certain he recognized the pony and cart from the stables at the Trade Inn of Sarn Ford, though no Hobbits were to be seen. A faint aroma of coffee beans rose up from the cart on the wind. *
* The Cloaked Guest shrugged it off, lit a fresh bowl of pipeweed, and continued on to the Gate at the edge of the Old Forest. The ends of fireworks protruded from his picnic basket. The basket was marked with a "G" ... for "Guest," perhaps. * [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]
[ September 18, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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