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The two children reached the fireside and Tim sat Wren gently down on a chair by the corner of the hearth, near the bright, leaping flame. He took his place beside her and lifted his legs to clasp his arms about his knees and take in the scene about him and actually get his bearings.
His eyes scanned the dark, fire and lamp lit room, noticed a newcomer enter, and a couple half hidden figures in remote corners of the place, and then his eyes fell on a small hobbit lad walking towards them. He moved his head and looked directly at the little fellow, who was also looking straight at him and his sister with dark, bright eyes.
“Hello!” the lad said, stopping before them and addressing them both with his greeting and a huge smile. “My name is Hanson. Hanson Boffin. What’s yours?” And then, without bothering for an invitation, he took advantage of an empty seat beside Tim, and made himself comfortable while waiting for their answer.
Tim couldn’t help but smile at the warm, unabashed welcome.
“I’m Tim Woodlock, and this is my little sister, Wren.” He motioned towards and turned to look at her. She was sitting stiffly in her chair with a look that made it appear that she was puzzled, but also with another that Tim knew well and that meant she was uncomfortable. “She’s really shy,” he added turning back to Hanson. “I guess you are here with somebody?”
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