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Child of the 7th Age · 09-08-2003, 11:18 PM

Hob eyed Olo nervously, "This? Oh, this is nothing. Just a letter from a lass. You know how they can be!" Hob shrugged his shoulders and tried to look nonchalant while he hastily stuffed the paper deep inside his vest and cursed himself for being so careless. If Olo got hold of this letter, Cami could easily land in the Lockholes, and Hob could definitely wave goodbye to all his hopes of ever marrying the lass, to say nothing of what might become of his poor Cami.

Deciding it might be best to beat a hasty retreat before his companions asked any other embarrassing questions, Hob quickly leapt to his feet and muttered, "I'd best be off now. There's still packing to do to prepare for the morning."

He tipped his cap to Olo and Brass, and set out at a rapid pace along the road making his way back towards the guard room as quickly as he dared. His leisurely afternoon with the two other Shirriffs hadn't turned out quite the way he'd planned. Even with ale and pipeweed to smooth the visit, there were still too many differences between them for Hob to feel at ease, especially with that miserable Olo. He'd need to be more cautious for the remainder of the trip, or he'd end up permanently assigned to the 'tater peeling squad, or something even worse!

After arriving at their headquarters, Hob ducked into the dingy hall that passed for a communal dorm, intentionally avoiding the looks and greetings of the others in the room and striding over to his own small cot. He began sorting through his belongings, stuffing them inside a pack, still being careful not to say anything to anyone else. As he set aside the things he'd need for the trek, he came across a small pocket knife that the Thain had presented to him while still a youth in Tookland; it was boldly engraved with the Took family crest. Despite his efforts to maintain a blank face, he shuddered at the sight and furtively stuffed the knife deep inside his back pocket making sure no one else saw it. How had he gotten himself in such a situation? And what would Ferny expect him to be doing over the next few days? But, as far as Hob could tell, there was no way out of this mess. He was just one small hobbit who'd better keep his eyes open and his mouth shut if he hoped to come out of this thing in one piece.

[ September 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

09-08-2003, 11:18 PM	#23
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Hob eyed Olo nervously, "This? Oh, this is nothing. Just a letter from a lass. You know how they can be!" Hob shrugged his shoulders and tried to look nonchalant while he hastily stuffed the paper deep inside his vest and cursed himself for being so careless. If Olo got hold of this letter, Cami could easily land in the Lockholes, and Hob could definitely wave goodbye to all his hopes of ever marrying the lass, to say nothing of what might become of his poor Cami. Deciding it might be best to beat a hasty retreat before his companions asked any other embarrassing questions, Hob quickly leapt to his feet and muttered, "I'd best be off now. There's still packing to do to prepare for the morning." He tipped his cap to Olo and Brass, and set out at a rapid pace along the road making his way back towards the guard room as quickly as he dared. His leisurely afternoon with the two other Shirriffs hadn't turned out quite the way he'd planned. Even with ale and pipeweed to smooth the visit, there were still too many differences between them for Hob to feel at ease, especially with that miserable Olo. He'd need to be more cautious for the remainder of the trip, or he'd end up permanently assigned to the 'tater peeling squad, or something even worse! After arriving at their headquarters, Hob ducked into the dingy hall that passed for a communal dorm, intentionally avoiding the looks and greetings of the others in the room and striding over to his own small cot. He began sorting through his belongings, stuffing them inside a pack, still being careful not to say anything to anyone else. As he set aside the things he'd need for the trek, he came across a small pocket knife that the Thain had presented to him while still a youth in Tookland; it was boldly engraved with the Took family crest. Despite his efforts to maintain a blank face, he shuddered at the sight and furtively stuffed the knife deep inside his back pocket making sure no one else saw it. How had he gotten himself in such a situation? And what would Ferny expect him to be doing over the next few days? But, as far as Hob could tell, there was no way out of this mess. He was just one small hobbit who'd better keep his eyes open and his mouth shut if he hoped to come out of this thing in one piece. [ September 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.