“I don’t think we can send anything home,” she replied to Olo, “We have no way, and none of us know a short cut or even the way home.”
Olo sighed and fell back behind the group. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her cousin. It was his adventurous mind that had got them into this mess and the guilt must be dreadful. Time passed slowly and the hobbits didn’t talk much, the walking was enough. The wind blew hard and fast, maybe a storm was starting again. Ama hoped not. They had missed lunch, and all other meals and now the sun was setting slowly but surely and the wind had died down.
“Shall we stop?” asked Falco.
“Errm, yes I think so.” Old Bill replied thoughtfully, sitting down on the ground. The rest followed suit and Ama was sat next to Ferd and Olo, who still looked seriously gloomy. They managed to get a small feeble fire going, but no one was complaining. It was bliss against the cold harsh wind of the day. They chatted a little beside the fire, while Ferd and Ben caught a few more fish from the nearby river. Soon they returned and the fish were frying on the fire.
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"...still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
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