Poppy, clinging tightly to the sack of gold she held in her hands, looked at the eight wispy shapes not far ahead of her. Feeling a tug on her dress next to her, she turned and saw Andreth, a look of fear across her face.
As she pointed, describing a figure nearby, Poppy peered into the distance, seeing nothing. What was the girl talking about? But in that moment, Andreth fell to the ground, unconscious.
“Gandalf!” Poppy cried, before kneeling next to her, putting the gold beside her. Andreth’s face was pale, what had she seen? What was this place going to do to them all?
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo
"Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn
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