[Imladris]

Olo chewed thoughtfully on his pipe as he looked with a slight dismay at the miscellaneous items arrayed upon his bed. He would never be able to fit everything that was needed into his very small leather knapsack. Spitting a stray tobacco leaf out of his mouth, he muttered, "Tobacco is a must, a spare pipe wouldn't do any harm, and three changes of clothes should just about do it." Putting the items into the sack, he stared thoughtfully at each one and said aloud, "Of course, a few blankets will be in order, what with sleeping on stones and all." He grimaced in distaste and consoled himself with the thought that at least there would be a great deal of wealth awaiting him at the end of the journey. Everything boded well, except for the blood of the Tooks that would be spilt...he hastily shoved the thought from his mind. What Sharkey said went, he said to himself fiercely.

He glanced again at his small pack and said, "Somethin's missin." Frowning, he tried to snap a pudgy thumb and finger, but failed due to the amount of sweat upon them, so instead he clucked his tongue and waddled to the kitchen. "Food, mate!" he scolded himself as he rummaged in the cabinet and brought out bacon, ham, and bread. "A hobbit can't live without food!"