Are we there yet?

Frodo Silvertongue · 04-05-2012, 01:01 PM

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Sorry for the wait, I didn't realise you had replied! word count; 452

The young man continued to sit by the fire, getting warm despite being warm already. It was a hot day, of course. But Frodo knew he would value the fires heat come nightfall. Nights were always cold, whether it be summer or winter. Personally though, Frodo loved cold weather. He loved the rain and the snow, the ice and the sleet, but being a sensible chap, he knew when enough was enough.

Frodo found himself admiring the scenery while he sat, and he ran a hand through his flaming mane momentarily, brushing flowers and feathers out of his eyes. The slightly braided mane was becoming quite a nuisance with all the things tied into it, and it was long and shaggy. It wanted cutting, but Frodo didn't really have anyone he could ask to do something like for him. Not to mention the fact he didn't really mind having his hair that long, especially as it meant he could hide his feelings. The young man found he was just too predictable, and any fellow traveller would more than likely best him any day.

Humming a tune to himself, Frodo almost did not notice a figure walking his way. He looked up to see what seemed quite a feminine figure, and put on his best smile, unfastening his cloak to make himself look more friendly. He found most people were taken aback to see a cloak round a wolf, almost as if he had secrets to hide. But Frodo had no secrets. He was as open as a book.

Intense green eyes continued watching, locked on the form of the stranger until she finally focused into view, someone he had never met before with two kittens of some so rt in her arms. Frodo grinned when he saw them, his heart almost melting. Creatures, especially baby creatures, he simply adored, and they were no exception, though he couldn't quite make out their breed. When the lady finally stopped near him and asked to join him while introducing herself, Frodo immediately sprang up, leaving his weapons and most items on the floor next to his cloak as he rushed to great her. My dear lady. he greeted, extending an arm and gesturing to the fire. Nice of yer to ask. Please, sit, my Cilla Black. What's mine is yours! he then promptly sat down again, drawing into a cross-legged stature. His eyes found the kittens she had put down, and he watched them. Strider was watching them too. The horse looked very grumpy, but he did and spoke nothing. Those critters are half a haddock, I'm not fore and aft or nothin', but they really are somethin'. Frodo mentioned, again looking at the cats.

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