Waiting On The Edge Of Battle

Witchcraft

That day as we were walking, Pippin turned to me, fiddling with the supplies on our pony. "I'm about ready for second breakfast. What about you?" He inquired, and succeeded in finding a pan and two round pots.

"Yeah, actually." I replied, keeping my voice low for no particular reason. The other hobbits and I began to gather our supplies for cooking, so we could have a proper second breakfast.

Strider must have heard our racket as we prepared our supplies. "Gentlemen," he said, probably forgetting all about me? "We do not stop 'till nightfall." Pippin straightened himself up, looking up at Strider a bit confused.

Pippin spoke like a true hobbit. "What about breakfast?" "We've already had it." Strider reasoned, oh the unknowing man. "We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?" But the moment Pippin finished with his point, Strider had already started walking again.

I tilted my head to the side ever so slightly. "That was weird." I pondered why Strider didn't leg us eat. We had to get our proper nutrition after all! "I don't think he knows about second breakfast you two." Merry informed us.

"What about elevenses?" "Luncheon?" "Afternoon tea?" "Dinner?" "Supper?" "He knows about them doesn't he?" Pippin and I took turns naming meals, completely flabbergasted that Strider might not have known what they were. Ha!

Merry stopped for a moment to look firmly at the both of us. "I wouldn't count on it." He said, to Pippin and I's great surprise. I looked at him and shrugged. "He's a strange fellow, that Strider."

From somewhere over the tall, think bushes, an apple appeared, probably thrown by Strider. Merry caught it in turn and handed it to Pippin, patting him on the back before walking onwards. A second apple came flying and hit Pippin square on the head.

I giggled as Pip looked up at the sky, bewildered. "What are you laughing about? Those apples came out of nowhere!" Pippin exclaimed, still looking for the source of the fruits he know held. I snatched an apple from him and took a bite out of it.

"It's witchcraft, Pip. Now come on." I teased with an amused grin. Pippin tried to give me a stern glare for my joking, but failed, and ended up looking plain silly. He continued his walking all the same though, happy he got the apple for breakfast at least.

Our party slowly made the journey through increasingly rough country. The sky was getting darker, and the forest was giving way to a flat marshland, full of a merciless army of flies and the grimiest water you would believe possible.

As we waded miserably through the marshes, Merry slapped a cloud of pests hovering above him. "What do they eat," He waved his hand around dispairingly at the pests. "When they can't get hobbit?"

I watched from the corner of my eye as Pippin slid, and stumbled clumsily into the mire. His face was as wretched and gloomy as I felt as I grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him up.

The moon rose overhead as us hobbits miserably made camp, as Strider was out hunting for rations. After we'd set up a pitiful little camp site, us hobbits sat in a circle of sorts, each covered in a rough blanket, waiting for Strider to return so we could eat.

"How long do you think we'll journey before we get home?" My downcast voice rang throughout our camp in the otherwise dead silence, though I was barely speaking. Frodo looked at the ground. "Who can say." He replied.

Pippin sighed. "I hope it isn't a long venture. I'm not good at this stuff, all this walking with so little to eat. I do love adventures as much as the next Took, but not of this sort." He snuggled further into his blanket.

"Yeah...I wish I could be in my warm house right now." Sam said to no one in particular. "By the warm, roaring fire, with a cup of something warm and delicious in my hands, and wrapped in a proper blanket." I closed my eyes, wanting to fall asleep, but knowing food was on the way.

At long last, the sound of wet boots became audible, signaling us of Strider's arrival. I perked up a small bit, looking in hisdirection to see a mere silhouette of Strider with a great deer slung over his over.

I admired his strength, finally appreciating the skill that was needed to bring back an animal for a meal. Strider laid the deer on it's side and prepared it for eating, which was a rather nasty, gruesome process. Appreciation lowered.