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It was Beornómien who woke them all the next morning with her fierce roaring.
"My animals!!" she cried. "My poor, poor animals!"
Their bodies were strewn about all over the garden, and fence, and sides of the building, and the beehives.
Poor Meneltarbo felt very bad indeed - the animals were really delightful things, and he was sorry they were dead.
All of Thorin's company were grumbling, and he noticed that they were glaring at him.
"Burglar!" roared Beornó. "Burglar! More like a Werewolf than a Burglar!"
"Now now now," said Valier. "We can't go accusing without proof..."
The rest of the company snorted with laughter.
The wizard scowled and waggled her fake grey beard in anger at being interrupted.
"Furthermore," she continued. "There are tracks of three Wolves around. It is highly unlikely that a very small hobbit could go around making three seperate tracks - therefore I think we have some work to do to weed these Wolves out."
The rest of the strange company glared suspiciously at each other. What was the world coming to, when a dwarf couldn't trust his own brother? Or sister?
Durin spoke. "I fear that some of you will not live beyond today. Many songs will be sung of this...provided, of course, that we are successful in weeding these Wolves out."
All eyes sprung with tears. For which of them, after all, didn't have dear family or friends in the crowd?
Thorin stood straight and tall, and said in a great voice -
"WE...SHALL...NOT...FALL!"
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DAY one has now begun. Wolves, stop PMing, Twins may start.
I'll need a name from the Hunter before the final votes are in.
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But all the while I sit and think of times there were before
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door
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