[piosenniel]

‘Just tell me plain what you mean by “all the other times”, Bird.’ Holly picked up a long charred stick and poked the fire, sending little sparks flying upward in the rising heat. Bits and pieces had come out, along the long course of their friendship, about the skin-changer’s checkered history with romance, most ending with Bird’s comment that it just wasn’t in the cards for her. Holly had always let the subject drop with that statement, respecting her friend’s need for privacy. But she knew that the half-joking way in which Bird said it belied the pain that prompted it.

Now the words tumbled out. ‘Here’s plain for you, Holly. Men don’t like us skin-changers. We’re not quite beasts, but we surely aren’t Men. They don’t know what we are. And what they don’t know they fear and hate and hurt.’ She took the stick from Holly’s hand and jabbed savagely at the heart of the fire. ‘They use us because we can do things for them. But they never, ever “see” us for the creatures we are.’ A tear escaped down Bird’s cheek only to be hastily wiped away with the back of her hand.

A certain silence fell between the two women. The flames of the fire flared up, throwing the features of their faces into sharp relief. Holly's low voice broke the quiet with a question. 'How can I help you?' Bird hunched her shoulders against the question, saying nothing.

‘Then let me speak plainly for now.’ continued Holly, when several cold, silent minutes had gone by. ‘I like him. There is a sense of easy friendship that we have grown into. I’ll admit at first I saw him as I usually do the big folk, thinking he would see me as an overgrown child to be taken care of and tolerated as something amusing. But I’ve found him to be thoughtful and considerate of my opinions when we speak, taking them seriously, even when he disagrees.’ Holly smiled as she thought of her first encounters with the Ranger. ‘For all his rule-bound man-headedness, Bird, I count him a fair and gentle friend.’

Bird snorted at this last remark. Holly chuckled, saying, ‘But then I think I’ve grown quite accustomed to my friends’ range of quirky attributes in whatever shape they appear. My thanks to our long friendship for that!’

The day’s pale morning light was just starting to seep through the trees. Holly yawned and stretched, then knelt close to the fire and built it up. ‘It’s going to be a long day, Bird. Get out the packet of strong tea and the dark honey, if you will. My energy is flagging already.’

Olo stirred in his blankets as the sun rose higher. He sat up as the scent of tea assailed his nose. ‘Heads up, Olo!’ cried Bird, as she pitched a wizened apple across the fire to him. He smiled and pointed to the mug of tea she sipped at, miming that he would like one to drink. ‘Come round and get a mug of tea yourself, you lazy git!’ she called. ‘Or did you think I should throw one over the fire to you?’ Olo shrugged, mouthing ‘sorry’ at her, and came round to claim his tea.

Holly heard Volondil as he woke from sleep. Grabbing her bag of medicines and dressings, she motioned for Bird to come with her. ‘Come distract him with your early morning charm, Bird. I need to clean his wound and change the dressing.’ She strode off toward the makeshift shelter. ‘And bring him some tea. He needs plenty of liquids to build up his blood, get his strength back.

‘Nothing to do but follow directions when Holly starts organizing things.’ grumbled Bird as she grabbed another mug of hot tea, and trotted after the quick footed Hobbit. The scalding liquid sloshed from the mug, landing on her hand. She dropped the mug, and swore at it like a brigand. Sucking the scalded patch she ran after Holly.

Olo sipped at his own mug of tea and shook his head at the unfolding scene. ‘Early morning charm, eh?’ he laughed. ‘I sincerely hope he has grown an extra thick skin along with his new scar, else he’ll never survive it!’

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]