Fazi slipped back to his place next to Hawthorne. “Is everything arranged about the presents?” she asked. The dwarf nodded. “Yes, everything should be well in hand, I hope…” he trailed off as he viewed the plate piled with food set before his chair. He licked his lips as he pulled the chair back and prepared to sit down. “My compliments to the cook. If it tastes half as good…” He was interrupted by a loud squeak of protest from the chair as he sat down. “Err,” Fazi stammered, “as I was saying, if this tastes half as good as it looks it will have been well worth coming.”
The dwarf proceeded to dive in. Between bites he managed to say, “Mmmm, yes, most excellent…*chew* *chew*…(pass more potatoes, please)…*gulp*…this puts me in mind of a time I was visiting a cousin of mine…” Hawthorne suddenly made a move to stop his tale. Rumor had it that Fazi’s stories could plunge even the most energetic of hobbit children into the depths of slumber. “I think everyone is starting to gather for the ceremony. Let’s watch and see what happens.”
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