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Child of the 7th Age · 09-17-2003, 12:19 AM

29 October

What a lousy thing to do! Stealing a few plugs of leaf from a poor ol' fellow like that. Despite his determination to keep quiet, Hob made a face and felt his stomach go all queasy.

He uneasily walked away from the farmstead wishing he could somehow vanish off the face of the earth. He even thought of inventing some wild pretext hoping to slip back and offer the farmer a pouch overflowing with the finest Old Toby in the Shire. He had plenty of the stuff himself and would not have hesitated to share with a friend.

But that nasty Olo was glaring over at him with a stern look on his face. Hob had a most unpleasant feeling that if he tried to sneak back into the farmer's burrow, Olo would end up snitching to Ferny, and that could have dire consequences. Hob could definitely do without that so he kept his opinions to himself.

He vowed to try and keep his mind on the route itself. They'd left very early in the morning and maintained a brisk, determined pace. With so many miles to put under their belt, they would be hard pressed to make it through to Great Smials in one day, especially being on foot. But with the orders given by Ferny, they really had little choice. One way or another, they had to make it.

Once or twice a cart came rumbling along the Great East Road, and the three of them managed to commandeer a lift. The driver usually didn't look too happy at the prospect of carrying a passel of Shirriffs along with him, but the fellow was generally too frightened to refuse. Now and again, Hob tried to get a bit of gossip out of the driver, but all he garnered for his efforts was a curt 'yes' or 'no' without any really interesting news. Being a Shirriff under the new regime had some definite drawbacks!

Hob took the lead in the group, glad to leave his fellows straggling behind him by a dozen paces or so. He cut straight south across the fields and gentle hills and headed for the woodlands, since he knew the Green Hill Country like the back of his hand. The Stock Road that led from Woodhall over to Tuckburrow was the fastest and best route to get to where they wanted to go. Hob just hoped that he wouldn't see anyone he knew. Just to make sure, he pulled his cap with its jaunty feather down low over his face and threw on a cloak to further help camouflage his familiar form and features.

09-17-2003, 12:19 AM	#31
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,135	29 October What a lousy thing to do! Stealing a few plugs of leaf from a poor ol' fellow like that. Despite his determination to keep quiet, Hob made a face and felt his stomach go all queasy. He uneasily walked away from the farmstead wishing he could somehow vanish off the face of the earth. He even thought of inventing some wild pretext hoping to slip back and offer the farmer a pouch overflowing with the finest Old Toby in the Shire. He had plenty of the stuff himself and would not have hesitated to share with a friend. But that nasty Olo was glaring over at him with a stern look on his face. Hob had a most unpleasant feeling that if he tried to sneak back into the farmer's burrow, Olo would end up snitching to Ferny, and that could have dire consequences. Hob could definitely do without that so he kept his opinions to himself. He vowed to try and keep his mind on the route itself. They'd left very early in the morning and maintained a brisk, determined pace. With so many miles to put under their belt, they would be hard pressed to make it through to Great Smials in one day, especially being on foot. But with the orders given by Ferny, they really had little choice. One way or another, they had to make it. Once or twice a cart came rumbling along the Great East Road, and the three of them managed to commandeer a lift. The driver usually didn't look too happy at the prospect of carrying a passel of Shirriffs along with him, but the fellow was generally too frightened to refuse. Now and again, Hob tried to get a bit of gossip out of the driver, but all he garnered for his efforts was a curt 'yes' or 'no' without any really interesting news. Being a Shirriff under the new regime had some definite drawbacks! Hob took the lead in the group, glad to leave his fellows straggling behind him by a dozen paces or so. He cut straight south across the fields and gentle hills and headed for the woodlands, since he knew the Green Hill Country like the back of his hand. The Stock Road that led from Woodhall over to Tuckburrow was the fastest and best route to get to where they wanted to go. Hob just hoped that he wouldn't see anyone he knew. Just to make sure, he pulled his cap with its jaunty feather down low over his face and threw on a cloak to further help camouflage his familiar form and features. __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.