It was a hazy summer afternoon, when in a field, sat a young hobbit examining his toe. The large thorn protruding from it was causing the young Merry Brandybuck quite a lot of pain, and he was unable to remove it with his stubby hobbit fingers. He scowled at the offending briar patch, not three feet from where he sat, and leapt in surprise when a voice issued from within it.

"Merry Brandybuck, that's hardly a very good place to hide now is it."

With a crunching and rustling heralding his arrival, Pippin was spat out of the bush at Merry's feet. With a cheeky grin, Pippin crawled closer to Merry, wondering at his older friend's lack of humoured response. Merry's face was screwed up, his eyes smarting at the pain in his foot. He struggled to bring his foot close enough to his mouth to remove the thorn with his teeth. Pippin gently offered his hand, and Merry let him take a hold of his foot, and with nimble fingers Pippin successfully removed the thorn, triumphantly holding it up for Merry to inspect.

"That's quite impressive Merry. You should keep it for display"

Merry playfully punched Pippin on the arm, and jumped to his feet, testing the soft grass beneath them.

"Very well then, as a memory of the day that we vanquished the great thorn, before going on to become hide-and-seek champions of all the Shire!"

"Frodo cannot possibly escape our cunning."

"Or our ingenious tactics for that matter."

As they ran eagerly off, whooping and laughing, a small smile spread across Frodo's face, from his hiding place in the thorn bush.