[Kransha]

Kalimac’s eyes narrowed once again, darting back and forth with the slightest bit of nervousness in them. He did not care for the unsubstantiated remarks made about this forest’s lurking darkness, but as he entered it with the others its imposing qualities became blatantly obvious. Kalimac’s hand inched towards his bow, which hung at his back, ready for immediate use. He knew this was the best opportunity he would get to speak with Harold away from his wife and children. He was wary, though, duly noting the presence of Harold’s wife, but the fact did not deter him. The hobbit would simply take Harold aside for a moment and tell him the idea. Surely, Harold, being a reasonable Harfoot, would agree with out a second thought and all would be well. A smile peeled over Kalimac’s face as he considered how much time he would now be able to spend with his more trivial habits. His expression changed again, reverting to his unsure frown as he glanced upward at the trees.

Night’s cloak had begun casting a shady spell on the sky. The sun drifted beneath the horizon, bathing the sky around it in a calming, if not somewhat unsettling shade of red. The rest of the great expanse was darkening and that darkness did not help Kalimac’s mood. He was soon surrounded, as everyone else was, by the gnarled and aged branches of great trees that would loom even above Big Folk. The gargantuan tree limbs seemed to be groping out at passing travelers with their malformed talons. The group began to wander more, seeming less and less like they had a set destination. Marcho was at the head of the posse, while Kalimac and Harold Chubb had drifted unnoticed to the back. This was the time and Kalimac Whitfoot knew it. He sidestepped, inching closer to the Harfoot. He leaned over and spoke through one side of his half-open mouth.

“Harold,” said the hobbit conspiratorially, nearly whispering, “I must discuss something with you.”

As he had planned, Kalimac did not give the Harfoot a chance to respond before he clamped a hand onto the other hobbit’s shoulder and stopped the two of them firmly in their tracks. Trying to avoid looking too serious, he spun to face Harold as the rest of the group slowed and began to survey the surrounding woods for necessary timber.

“I have a proposition for you,” he continued, “and I believe you will not object. I was thinking about this trip, as I’m sure you have been as well, and came upon a welcome revelation. You and I are both sound hobbits of sense and cannot be tied down with trivial things such as keeping a wary eye upon our offspring. I have figured out a solution to this problem for the two of us. Perhaps, your young ones, May and Henry, could keep the aforementioned eye on my children, Alora and Crispin. Alora and Crispin must be watched and the exercise will give May and Henry something to do in the surplus hours of this journey.”

He paused, hesitating to allow Harold some leeway to speak. Unfortunately, his tongue got the better of him and he ended up diving right back in to conversation before Harold, who looked strangely pensive, could voice his side.

“Of course, you would have to talk this over with your children and you wife. The plan is sound, though, and efficient. What do you think?” he forced a smile, looking overly pleasant as he managed to keep himself from plunging back into eternal oration somehow, keeping his lips caarefully sealed as Harold began.