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Granny was only cat-napping. Her sharp old ears listened to the hum of conversation in the room, much as she did to the the hums of her dear bees as they went about their daily business. Her eyes, too, though giving all appearances of being closed in sleep, peeped out from beneath those grey tipped lashes.
'Where's Miz Rowan?' she spoke softly as Prim reached out to tidy Granny's table and pour a little hot tea in her mug. Prim's vague and hazy references to 'washing up' and such, accompanied by a quickening crimson tinge to the young woman's cheeks made Granny wary of her answer.
'That so?!' the elder Hobbit said, leveraging herself up from the chair, her walking stick planted firmly on the floorboards for support. 'B'lieve I'll just go give her a hand, then.' Ignoring a few splutters of protest from Prim, Granny made her way into the kitchen.
Not finding Rowan anywhere about and the dishes piled in the sink still dirty, she proceeded toward the sounds of scuffling and ruffling about she heard from just beyond an opened door at one end of the room.
'Miz Rowan?' she called out, her yew wood stick tap-tapping her progress across the floor. 'That you, dear?'
It was indeed the Hobbit lass, who turned with a look of surprise on her face and a pair of objects held firmly in her hands. 'Why what's that?' the old woman ask drawing closer. 'A little shell covered keepsake box, yes? And that....some little carved trinket isn't it. How clever it is!' She took the wooden ship, meticulously carved, sails and oars, and smelling of some fragrant wood. Turning it this way and that she smiled admiring the workmanship.
'Oh look!' she chuckled, holding the vessel a little closer to her eyes. 'Now isn't that something!' She held it out for Rose to see. There on the deck was a small figure, unshod.....with a definite patch of hair gracing each foot.
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