[Child of the 7th Age]

The first leg of the trip was not too different than travelling back and forth to Bullroarer's house. The air was nippy, and the roads had a thin sheen of ice and snow, but it was possible to make steady progress. Branda smiled with amusement at the antics of Dinodas and Giles as well as Carl and Daffodyl's disagreement over the squirrel. Giles was usually so quiet and serious, but it seemed as if Dinodas had a gift for bringing out a mischievous streak in him.

All of the company were leading one or two pack horses, animals they owned or that had been given to them on loan from Bulroarer. It was vital that they get the ponies through. There was no way they'd carry enough on their own backs to feed the Shire through the winter.

As they walked along, Branda tried to make polite conversation with the two female hobbits that Bullroarer had told him to 'oversee'--Emerald and Celandine. But he felt awkward talking with hobbits, especially women, he barely knew.

Plus, the young hobbit wasn't quite sure what Bullroarer meant when he told Branda to "oversee" the women. That sounded a bit like the times his wife asked him to tend his three-year old daughter to make sure she didn't do anything rash that would land her in serious trouble. He guessed he was supposed to keep a close eye on them.

Branda was certainly familiar with this neck of the road, and had been to Frogmorton several times. He wondered if the Inn would have food in its larder or they'd have to rely on their own stores they'd brought along. Sandy was ladden with heavy bags of smoked and frozen fish, but he didn't want to use those unless he absolutely had to. He'd already spoken with Bullroarer about it, and he had agreed.

An hour of steady marching had passed when they made a brief stop to pick ice and stones out of their ponies' hooves. Branda took the opportunity to pull out the map Bullroarer had entrusted to him. He was carefully studying the route when Emerald came over.

"I'd like to look at that too," she said, leaning over and about to remove the map from Branda's hands.

"Hey, stop that," he responded in a soft but determined voice. You can look later. Maybe sometime tonight. I need to look at this route. That way, our group will be prepared when it's time for us to scout out the trail ahead."

Branda leaned against Stoney's back and peered more intently at the map in front of him. He hoped he had the ability to scout out the road as Bulroarer wanted him to do. In truth, his scouting and map reading skills were not very good. Usually, at home, he knew all the paths and trails by heart and never bothered with a map. He would actually have appreciated some help in figuring out this puzzling piece of paper. But, since Bullroarer had placed him in charge of the women, he didn't dare show them that he knew less than they did, at least about this.

Emerald was a no-nonsense girl who would not take no for an answer. Especially when there didn't seem to be any real reason for it. Surely, Branda could take five minutes to reliquish his precious map to her. Or even more sensibly, they could study it together and share their ideas.

Frustrated at the situation, Emerald turned around, scooped up a huge wad of snow, aimed straight and true, and smacked Branda square in the middle of the face. "That's what you get for not sharing the map!"

The hobbit stood by the side of the road, his face dripping with ice. For a moment, Emerald was uncertain what the lad would do. Even Branda was uncertain. Maybe he should sternly reprimand her. And then he did something that, for him at least, was totally out of character.

He had been under so much pressure: providing fish for his family and neighbors, fretting about the new baby on the way and his little daughter Violet, seeing other hobbits grow lean and sick, worrying about rumors of warg attacks, and now being placed in charge of two girls whom he barely knew. He was so sick of doing nothing but worry and act serious. Hobbits just weren't like that. When was the last time he'd attended a party or even spent the night carousing in a tavern? He couldn't even remember. All he could remember was snow and fighting off hunger.

Something inside Branda snapped. He came up laughing with a silly gleam in his eye, and grabbed a handful of snow, sending a snowball streaming over in the direction of Emerald. He hit her squarely on the back. Bullroarer stopped at the front of the line and looked on aghast as others began picking up snowballs and hurling them at their neighbors.

[ November 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]