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piosenniel · 10-11-2003, 12:40 PM

October 31st

Assiram sat up rubbing the soreness from his left flank. A small tree root and several sharp rocks had made their impression on him as he slept. He had been so tired when they’d finally stopped to camp, he’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep . . . and of course the small flask of burning juniper berry spirits he’d grown fond of had assisted the process. But now he was awake, and his head was throbbing, his side was sore, and his leg muscles were threatening to cramp from the chill of the morning.

The sun had crested the tips of the trees. So, it couldn’t be too early he thought to himself. Groaning with the effort, he got up and walked the few paces to the little stream that ran though the small dell they were in. The other two were still dead asleep, snores and grunts issuing every so often from beneath the blankets of their rude beds.

He splashed a few handfuls of cold water from the stream on his face, and slaked his thirst with a long drink from it. A patch of sun beckoned him and dragging his small pack with him, he sat down in it, leaning his back against a tree stump. The warmth of the sun and the short walk had worked the cramps from his calves.

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the last of the dried meat and waybread. Hardly noticing them as he gnawed on them, he set to organizing what needed to be done that day. Looking reflectively at the sorry little stick of dried meat that grew smaller by the minute, he moved the replenishing of their food supplies to the top of his list.

‘Should be some nice fat Hobbit holes we can raid,’ he thought to himself as he popped the last of the waybread into his mouth . . .

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

10-11-2003, 12:40 PM	#64
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	October 31st Assiram sat up rubbing the soreness from his left flank. A small tree root and several sharp rocks had made their impression on him as he slept. He had been so tired when they’d finally stopped to camp, he’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep . . . and of course the small flask of burning juniper berry spirits he’d grown fond of had assisted the process. But now he was awake, and his head was throbbing, his side was sore, and his leg muscles were threatening to cramp from the chill of the morning. The sun had crested the tips of the trees. So, it couldn’t be too early he thought to himself. Groaning with the effort, he got up and walked the few paces to the little stream that ran though the small dell they were in. The other two were still dead asleep, snores and grunts issuing every so often from beneath the blankets of their rude beds. He splashed a few handfuls of cold water from the stream on his face, and slaked his thirst with a long drink from it. A patch of sun beckoned him and dragging his small pack with him, he sat down in it, leaning his back against a tree stump. The warmth of the sun and the short walk had worked the cramps from his calves. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the last of the dried meat and waybread. Hardly noticing them as he gnawed on them, he set to organizing what needed to be done that day. Looking reflectively at the sorry little stick of dried meat that grew smaller by the minute, he moved the replenishing of their food supplies to the top of his list. ‘Should be some nice fat Hobbit holes we can raid,’ he thought to himself as he popped the last of the waybread into his mouth . . . [ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.