Word Count :: 413
The boy was small for his breed and gender, only about 5’7 when standing in his optime form. The youth carried on riding, his heart skipping beats and him constantly drumming his fingers on his horse’s neck. Strider appreciated the quirky movements rather than be annoyed by them; it told him Frodo was still there, and well. Still they rode together, bareback and seemingly weightless. They were at a very slow, loping trot which gradually slowed to a walk around the muddy areas. Nothing too fast. They were in no hurry. Both much healthier than the last time they’d been on the road together. They’d been riding quite a while, nearing the end of the ethereal eclipse, and Frodo was just starting to think they’d not be meeting anybody for the moment when he heard the steady hoof beat of a horse and it’s rider. The texture of the sound told him it was a ridden horse rather than a wild one, or another hooves creature. Indeed his ears were sensitive, like most wolves. He turned his horse round to face whoever rode their way, and wooed his horse to a halt. Stilla. Stilla. the man ushered in elven tongue, for he knew how boisterous Strider was around other horses. The proud, majestic beast flared his nostrils, but was still.
He was surprised at who came to arrive near him. She was slender and young, a good few months younger than him no doubt but willowy all the same, and meek and mild as she addressed him. Not saying hello or anything, simply asking for directions. He’d hoped she’d at least introduce herself… he was intrigued by her appearance. The dark, flowing mane especially. That I do, miss. he grinned wolfishly, flashing a set of pearly whites beyond compare. He faced her one his horse, intense green eyes scrutinizing and searching her. But they were kind, and he was humble. In fact, ‘tis on my way. ‘Could save me explainin’ and travel wit’ me, could you not? he gave her a steel wink, and moved his horse just a tad closer, so they were side by side. He was small, but apparently she was tiny by his standards. It was odd to be looking down at someone for once. From afar he’d mistaken her for smaller. Obviously her dainty frame was able to change the way he saw things. Frodo. Frodo Silvertongue. At your service, buser-bal-oon.
Image courtesy of Scott Hudson **; Table by the Mentors!
<style>.K22911_Fro1 .ooc {font-size:12px; font-style:italic;}
.K22911_Fro1 p {padding:0px 15px 5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:25px;}
.K22911_Fro1 b {font-family:verdana; color:#4e3f3c; margin:5px; font-size:10px; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:1px;}
.K22911_Fro1 {background-color:#323030; font-family: verdana, serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #171717; line-height:16px; width:500px; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://img402.imageshack.us/img402/5902/frodoy.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:322px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #141313; border-radius:12px; } .K22911_Fro1-border {width:502px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto; border-radius:12px;}
p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;}</style>