He was glad to know Alder knew Skoll's father. Skoll himself had proclaimed himself a prince, and the son of a great leader, and Frodo, being Frodo, had believed him straight away. So it was no surprise to hear this from another. Smiling warmly, his eyes flickered to the left to watch how Strider reacted to Alder's greeting. Cold the horse was, but he was not without heart, merely constantly concerned for his rider's well being. The horse snapped up his head and snorted through nourished nostrils, his muzzle curling slightly but not in anger or hostility. Strider was defiant, fierce, and arrogant, but he knew a fellow that knew his way around horses when he saw one. Frodo couldn't speak a word of low speech, so it interested Strider to hear a high speaker emit his most common tongue.
Frodo smiled warmly and nodded. Yes, it was behind them, so he hoped. He'd lost a friend or two in the war he'd missed and regretted his pack had fought in one, but he was much glad it was over. The next question tugged a hole in his heart for a moment or two before he answered, albeit taken off guard. Nah. it might have seemed that was the end of it, and there was nothing more to be said, but that would have left Frodo rude. And he wasn't rude, if he could help it. When he told others of his past, it was somewhat of a mixed reception he was given. But he was who he was. Folk judged him for being a gypsy, or for have being a gypsy, and the fact he couldn't stay in a single place for long. Born a gypsy, me. My birth pack stayed in New Zealand for t'most o' me chil'hood. Fishin' for crabs if there ever were, I daresay. he sighed, dreamily wondering back to the rolling mountains of where he had grown up. The place he spoke of was so far away. He had travelled far to where he was now. But I ent never in one place fer long. I've been everywhere, me. And then I ended up in AniWaya. Must be fate. Or somethin'k of the sort. he suddenly looked up to the sky, smiling widely. Someone's up there, watchin' over me! Mark my words!
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