[*Varda*]

The first cold drops of rain had fallen upon the hobbits as the day drew into the early afternoon. The dark cloud sitting patiently in the east had now found its way into the sky directly above the hobbits’ heads. The sky was overcast with shadow and the sun was hidden by cloud. The positive atmosphere that had been there when the hobbits first set out was gone, as they huddled in the bottom of the boat, shielding themselves from the rain that threatened to become increasingly relentless. Penny was screaming towards Olo and Ama, telling them to bring the boat to the shore.

Olo fumbled with the white sail, gradually getting wetter. The boat was getting blown further south down the Brandywine, by a harsh north wind, and the little boat would get out of control if they didn’t take care.

“Olo! Get down! That’s dangerous!” Mirabella shouted to him over the wind, which seemed to be getting louder every minute, a hundred voices carrying on the air. The hobbit sighed and left the sail alone, flapping in the breeze.

“How did the storm just start? It was a beautiful day only hours ago!” cried Ama, looking at Olo and the others for any kind of response.

“How are we supposed to know?” Falco called back. “This was a bad idea, I knew we should never have come! We should try and get close to the shore!” The boat was rushing down the centre of the Brandywine, the water flowing fast and pulling the boat along with it. The Old Forest was out of sight now, with nothing but marshland to be seen to the right of them.

“Don’t complain now, Falco! We’re in a bit of a mess, yes, but we can get ourselves out of it!” Olo muttered towards him. “Don’t scare the others!” In a louder tone, he called to everyone else. “Paddle towards the shore! We can try and get out there, save the boat, and wait till the storm dies down!” The hobbits paddled vigorously with their hands, trying to push the boat towards the right, but even the combined efforts of the eight hobbits were not enough to steer the boat. The water had grown extremely cold, and so they were reluctant to put their hands in the depths of the Brandywine.

The boat continued on and on, the hobbits having given up all hope of getting to shore. They had gone back to huddling together, staring at the sky looking for a ray of sun, or staring into the water, looking for any signs of it slowing. The boat was tossed back and forth on the rushing current, and Ama looked over the back of the boat, wishing for it to stop, the wind blowing her hair about, as she saw a large wave approaching the boat very fast.

“Hold on tight!” she shrieked above the wind, as the boat careened about, almost capsizing, towards the eastern shore, and Olo tumbled out instantly, not reacting fast enough to Ama’s cry. Seconds later, the rest had all been thrown out, and were struggling against the current, but they were nearer the shore than they had been before.