[piosenniel]

Drifting out of the fog came a wavery voice. The little cluster of Hobbits were startled by it. Tom jumped up and sniffed the air then began to wag his tail furiously.

From out of the fog came a familiar face. It was Ben, a goofy grin on his face. ‘Hey! I found the perfect place for us.’ He motioned for them to get up and come near. ‘I didn’t know you guys weren’t behind me, so I went on a little ways. Lucky you were talking loud enough for me to find my way back.’

He had them hold hands in a line so they wouldn’t get lost then he turned and led them deeper into the fog. It was thick and heavy, like wet wool, and they walked slowly because they could not see where they stepped.

After a few paces, the ground began to rise gently. They climbed up perhaps thirty paces then found themselves standing on a flat little rise. The fog was thinner here, and they could see some of the features of the area about them.

To their left, just a few steps away was a grass covered mound, just about Hobbit height. The entrance to it was covered with a stone that had been slid just slightly away so that there was a small gap just large enough for a smallish creature to pass through.

‘It was too heavy to push any further,’ Ben said in explanation. ‘There was a little sun that peeped through the fog just before I came back to find you. It’s dry inside, whatever it is. We can stay there until the fog clears and keep warm. Then we can set out again.’

Ben put his shoulder to the entrance stone and looked expectantly at the group. ‘Well isn’t someone going to help me . . .?’