[alaklondewen]

An eerie feeling was emitted from the unfriendly, swaying branches as Ferd, Penny, and Mirabella entered the forest. Despite the chilliness of the air outside the forest walls, the air beyond the first of the trees was warm and stuffy. It feels like a small room without any windows, Ferd thought as he looked around cautiously. He felt as though a hundred eyes were on him, but he saw no one other than his two companions.

Creaking and an occasional clatter could be heard all around them. Searching the ground quickly for dry wood, Ferd couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt. All he wanted was to get back to the camp…in one piece.

When Ferd looked back up, he found he had walked several yards away from Penny and Mirabella, and he momentarily panicked. He tried to call to them, but his voice fell flat in the still air. So, carrying a few pieces of timber he’d gathered he quickly made his way back.

The path to his friends had seemed straight when he’d first realized he was separated, but now he had to zig-zag around this tree and that. Ferd was just a few feet away when he tripped over a root that seemed to just pop up as he was walking. You’re loosing it, Ferdy boy, he told himself as he shook the idea from his head. Picking himself up and the wood he’d dropped, he finally stepped into the small circle where Penny and Mirabella were picking up some small limbs.

Just as Ferd turned his back again, Penny screamed out and Ferd jumped. He watched as Mirabella rushed to her aid. Penny said she was fine but the hobbit was definitely shaken up.

“I don’t like this place,” Ferd looked around and motioned toward the edge of the trees. As he headed in the direction of camp, Penny and Mirabella followed.

The trio walked past the last row of old trees and they all sighed at once. The forest seemed to push them along, and it felt as though an unseen door closed behind them.

“Well, I’m glad we’re out of there,” Mirabella commented while the other two nodded in agreement. “I think this wood will have to last, because I don’t want to go back in there.”

“I agree,” Ferd said as he looked back over his shoulder. The old twisted branches seemed to be reaching out toward them, and he quickened his pace.

The smell of the stew met them as they returned to the little fire and their companions. Ferd’s mood was immediately improved by the prospect of food, and soon he was snapping his fingers at the old trees and singing along while Ben played his whistle.

[ June 26, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]