[alaklondewen]

Marcho Bolger

In the days that followed the wolf catastrophe the settlers seemed to be genuinely bound together. Families were helping one another with campsite chores, and the second evening after the fight, everyone pitched in to have a community meal. The ladies prepared a delicious stew from the ingredients each family contributed. Many sang songs and danced, and a barrel of ale was tapped and shared by all. Marcho even pulled out his wooden flute for a rare performance. Overnight, the males took turns, four at a time, standing guard against the surrounding darkness.

Seeing this community-centered spirit raised Marcho’s morale. Thus far, it seemed the group had run into one obstacle after another, and he knew many of his fellow hobbits held him to blame. The Fallohide questioned his decision to lead these innocent folk into the wilderness, but in his heart he knew that if they persevered they would be rewarded beyond their expectations.

Marcho had never considered that all the hobbits would not feel the reward of living in a new place, but Harold Chubb’s heart felt apology lingered in the scout’s mind. Two days Marcho mulled over the Harfoot’s words. In all honesty, the hobbit assumed arrangements would be kept between families, and that those who worked for others would still honor their appropriate contracts. Yet, how could he, as their leader, not consider the impact of pulling families from land they’ve worked without the prospect of their own land in return. He had promised this new place would provide for all of them, not just the wealthy. On the other hand, what ramifications would be brought about by letting those contracts fail? This issue certainly needed some discussion. Marcho was curious as to what the other Fallohide families would think about such a proposal, and he began considering meeting with the fathers. First, he would question his brother-in-law, since they had not discussed the Chubbs comments as of yet.

~*~*~

Third Morning after Wolves: Henry Chubb

Henry shivered under his blanket and curled up into a ball renouncing the arrival of morning. His mother saw him stirring and insisted he rise to help her with packing and breakfast. Most of the settlers were already busy about their wagons and fires, preparing for the new day. An excitement was in the air this morning. Henry had heard the adults talking the night before and they would be crossing the boundary of the new land today, although their destination lay still a few weeks away. The young hobbit was, to a degree, uncertain as to why they were not stopping once they reached their land, but he shared in the anticipation regardless of his understanding.

The Chubbs had a short breakfast and were soon piled onto the cart moving slowly down the road. Henry was pleased to be allowed to ride in the front with his father this morning, and he took advantage to ask his father all about the new land and why they weren’t stopping when they crossed the river. His father told him that they would be able to establish better trade in the White Downs opposed to the area on the other side of the forest. Henry chewed on this a while before asking with whom they would trade. His father mumbled a reply about Big Folk and Elves, and Henry wondered whether Elves liked eggs and milk enough to trade with them. The two, father and son, sat quietly in their own thoughts until Marcho stopped them for lunch.

The morning had become progressively cloudy and a strong wind was picking up. Henry had a hard time keeping his food on his plate and resorted to hunching his shoulders and surrounding his lunch with his entire body to keep it still. This method worked for the remainder of break, and then it was back on the cart for Henry.

His mother requested to sit with his father this time, so he rode in the back for a while before hopping down to walk awhile. They had been on the road for just a couple of hours since their short lunch, when the sound of the rushing water could be heard. Henry tried to get a look, but there were too many wagons in front of them to see very far ahead. This is it, he thought. This is our new land! The young hobbit was finding it difficult to keep his excitement under control.

~*~*~

Melisil’s Post: Alora Whitfoot

Alora, her family, and all the other assortments of Hobbits traveling with them had been traveling hard most of the day so far. The weather had been very windy for almost the whole of it. Just a few hours after lunch had been eaten, the crowd arrived at a river. The wind was getting pretty strong by now.

“What’s this river called, Crispin?” Alora asked.

“Dad said that it’s called the Baranduin Alora.”

“Oh, ok.” Alora said, daydreaming slightly. The wagons began to ride over the bridge; their wagon was near the front of the line. Alora hopped off, and started walking beside the wagon. Alora glanced at the water; even at the start of a storm, it was somehow beautiful. Every wave it made, every ripple it created, pulled Alora closer to it. She stood at the railing of the bridge, leaning over slightly, as to see just a bit more of the wonderful river. She leaned over a bit more, and a bit more again. She leaned through the railings. I wonder what it would be like to be a fish, swimming in the river, she thought to herself. She extended to tiptoe, peering as hard as she could into the water, watching for the fish.

All of a sudden, ‘Splash!!’ Alora’s foot had slipped, and down she fell, off the bridge, and engulfed in the strangely warm feeling water. She screamed as she fell. She screamed again as she surfaced the water. Fear began to overtake her. Alora started kicking her feet and flaying her arms. The water seemed so much less inviting now, the magic had disappeared. “Mommy!” she screamed, as she surfaced again, “Daddy!” She fell under the water again. Alora couldn’t see what anyone was doing up on the bridge. She screamed, and gasped for breath, every chance she could.

~*~*~

Marcho

Marcho heard the frightful scream behind him and pulled his wagon to a screeching halt. Leaping from his wagon, the hobbit shouted an inquiry, but no one was quite sure what had happened. Several hobbits were leaning over the rail of the bridge, and then he saw the lass bobbing in the waves…