[Firefoot]

The little brook that Gandalf had pointed out looked like absolute heaven. The sun had now all but set, and none of them had eaten anything of substance since lunch. Sondo wondered how they had ever gotten through a couple days with hardly anything to eat, before they encountered those ruffians.

The hobbits quickly had a small fire going and the aroma of cooking meat filled the air. Some dry bread and fruit was passed around while the meat cooked, and those were gone in a matter of minutes. Luckily, the meat did not take long to cook and everyone was soon satisfied. Having eaten, most of the hobbits were ready to drop off; few of them had gotten much sleep the night before and it had been a long march.

Before doing so, however, Gandalf had a few word of advice for them. "You have come quite a ways north of where you entered the forest," he told them, "and you are almost home. If you follow this little brook for perhaps a mile, it will run into the Brandywine River. Keep the river in sight during your march tomorrow, and the Old Forest will give you no trouble. Your march tomorrow will be unpleasant, but not terribly difficult. Here between the Brandywine and the Old Forest is marshlands which are inhabited by little more than stinging insects. A full day's march will take you to the banks of the River Withywindle; I do not recommend trying to cross it during the night, nor should you camp too close to it's shores. You will have to use your wits to get across, but I have no doubt that you are capable."

"But wait!" said one of the hobbits. "Why are you telling us this? Won't you be with us?"

"I will not; I will probably be gone by the time you awake tomorrow," answered Gandalf. "I have important business elsewhere, and I have no doubts that you will not need my aid to get home. Your journey has been hard, but all of you have grown from it. Use what you know, rely on yourselves and each other, and you will be fine." Sondo had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, Gandalf's leadership had been vitally important in saving them from the forest, and could continue to be helpful, but under Gandalf's leadership, he had become just another of the group. "Leader" had merely been a nominative role, yet another blow to his pride. To top it all off, their trip had not really been any more adventurous than before Gandalf came; in fact, it may have even been less so. So, in all honesty, Sondo could not say he would be entirely sorry to see Gandalf go.

A few hobbits pleaded with Gandalf not to leave them, but while Sondo wasn't one of them, he wasn't obvious about it, either. One of those things he had learned was that he couldn't be a leader without having followers, a prospect that had been threatened more times than he liked.

Gandalf could not be moved to remain with them, and the talk eventually died down as the hobbits drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~*~

The sun was casting its first rays upon the land when Sondo awoke the next morning. Gandalf was gone, even as he had said, and Sondo was the leader again. The last stage of the journey was before them; here was his last chance to prove that his plan had not been an utter disaster. He knew he had made a real mess of things more than once, but not today, he wouldn't. Not today, and not for the rest of the trip.

With that in mind he got up, and a few others who were by now awake joined him. The rest were up once breakfast started cooking. They ate, put away their bedrolls, and shouldered their packs, ready to set off. Sondo led the way down the creek. The day was warm, and the creek shallow, so Sondo soon switched to walking in the creek. The cool water felt good on his feet as it swirled and bubbled past. And then - there it was! The Brandywine River, which none of them had seen for several days past, became visible. A broad grin lit Sondo's face. "Almost home, now," he murmured.

They turned north to follow the river. His good mood was quickly dampened as the ground became soggy, opening into shallow meres and pools. The insects were horrendous, biting and buzzing about their faces. Swatting at them in irritation, he nearly tripped into a pool of greenish-water. Cursed swamp. Sondo set his jaw. He had beaten ruffians and evil trees; he would not be ousted by bugs and marshes.