"Ouch!"

Pippin lifted his hand to pull a branch out of his curly golden hair. He watched as his three companions walked ahead, leaving him.

"Help, please?"

Pippin's older cousin, Merry, turned around. "Pip, what did you do?" He walked back to Pippin and started to help him untangle twigs from Pippin's hair.

The other two hobbits, Frodo and Sam, stopped and waited.

After some struggling, the stubborn branch released Pippin, who shook his head and continued with the rest of the group.

The farther the hobbits walked into the Old Forest, the darker and more ominous it seemed. Night was falling fast, and the friends were falling asleep on their feet.

"Mr. Frodo, why don't we stop and rest a while?" Sam voiced what all of them had been thinking. "It's no use walking if we're dead on our feet."

Frodo looked at the others. Merry's eyes were drooping, and Pippin was swaying precariously, as if he was going to fall over. Finally, the oldest hobbit sighed.

"Fine. We'll stop for the night."

----x--X--x----

The group settled down among the roots of a large tree. Pippin's head was resting on Merry's shoulder. Sam was sleeping a little ways off from them, leaning against the tree. Frodo was curled up next to him.

Frodo started to twitch in his sleep, murmuring incoherent words. Sam, startled by his movement, woke up and looked down at him.

"Hush, it's okay Mr. Frodo, calm down."

Sam brushed a lock of hair away from Frodo's eyes, trying to comfort him, but nothing changed. Sam sighed. Frodo had always had sleep problems, but ever since Flisa left it was worse.

Sam leaned back against the tree again. He closed his eyes.

----x--X--x----

"Sam!"

Pippin shook the other hobbit again. "Sam, get up! It's morning!"

Sam shot up on his feet. He glanced around and saw that Merry, Pippin, and Frodo were waiting for him. "Oh, sorry," he muttered as he quickly gathered his things. The hobbits started off on their journey again.

It wasn't long until they reached a large pile of boulders. Frodo stopped to lean on one of them. The other hobbits, deciding this was a good idea, did so as well.

"Did you hear that?" Merry asked. He was looking around, his expression tinged with worry.

The group was silent. After a few tense moments, they heard a twig snap. The hobbits huddled together, frightened, against the rocks.

A pair of dark eyes peered out at them from the bushes. Frodo couldn't help but murmur, "Flisa?"

The owner of the eyes stepped forward into view: a large dog. It's fur was bristling, and its teeth were bared.

However, it was definitely not Flisa.