The spirited discussion of the brightest and most beautiful type of flowers ended abruptly between the hobbits as each of their eyes fixed, staring upon the woman lying before them. They exchanged uneasy glances; perhaps the bandits of which they had heard were not just an imagined tale after all, they thought. Certainly something had hurt the young lady. One of the male hobbits came closer, to render aid and perhaps also out of curiousity.
Evelina lay listening carefully and wishing she had chosen a more convienant position in which to be sprawled. Her face was most uncomforably squashed into the damp earth; the musty smell of decaying leaves filled her senses, and everything had suddenly become quiet. Try as she might, Evelina could not hear what the group of hobbits were doing. In truth, they were doing nothing more than gaping at her, but she, of course, could not know that. With a snort of disgust, the lady Bandit sprung herself from the ground and turned to face them with a fierce smile and startling yell. Roughly pushing aside the closest hobbit, who had shrunk back in surprise at her prompt recovery, Evelina called once more for aid.
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