[piosenniel]

Ben sat wearily on the ground, it had been a long day of hiking. The only food he’d managed to get were a few of the sour berries Mirabella had wisely thought to stuff in her pocket, and a few bites of one of the cooked birds he had stored in a leaf in his. The rest he had shared with Mirabella and the two hobbits walking near him.

He had been lucky enough to catch a few small brown trout in a nearby stream with a finger line and a hook he had found in one of his pockets. Ferd had gone with him, and between the two of them they had gotten enough for the group to make some semblance of a meal. Once back, they handed their catch Rosie and Falco, who cleaned and gutted the tasty beauties, and put them on sticks to roast over the fire.

Ben scooted as close as he could to the meager fire, thrusting his feet toward it, trying to get them warm. Mirabella sat next to him, and they huddled together, sharing what warmth they could muster. The smell of fish crisping over the flames made his tummy rumble in anticipation. He could hardly wait to sink his teeth into one. He started to fidget, wishing he could think about something else until the fish were done.

‘Mirabella,’ he whispered, leaning close to her and nudging her in the side, ‘let’s see if we can find some more wood for the fire. I saw a little stand of trees not too far back, a little ways off the path Old Bill led us on. We should be back before the fish are done.’ He looked expectantly at her. ‘It’s going to be a long, chilly night,’ he went on, looking up at the sky. The moon was just peeking over the horizon, and its pale fingers of light spreading over the rise in the distance seemed only to add to the chill.

Ben stood, extending a hand to her. ‘Come on! Let’s go!’