"Aulë, if he stares any harder, he'll burn a hole straight through our poor, little burglar's head," Bofur commented, just as a member of their company took a place on the hard ground beside him. He chose to ignore the close contact -close enough that their thighs would touch if he moved just slightly to the left, no doubt- as he turned to look at just who it was that he was speaking to. He was pleased to see that his new conversation partner was none other than a smiling Nori, who was holding a mug of ale his way. Bofur liked talking to Nori, and he did so quite often, most notably as they rode their ponies beside each other as they had left the Shire. Taking the mug, Bofur spoke his thanks and turned his attention back to the slowly dying fire, and the two shadowy figures on the opposite side.
"Aye, he would," Nori agreed with Bofur's earlier observation, "but it may not be the wisest of ideas to question our leader's actions. Bofur nodded, and both dwarves took quiet sips of their drinks, and attempted to hide their spying from the rest of the group. It was only a moment later that Nori leaned his body closer to Bofur's, talking in a voice barely above a whisper. "He's been in an especially foul mood these past few days. I think it's the hobbit that has him acting so strangely."
Taking a moment to ponder his words, Bofur came to the conclusion that the thief beside him had probably never spoken truer words in his lifetime. Thorin Oakenshield, their rightful king and leader of their small but loyal company, had become increasingly irritable ever since the hobbit had chased behind them, yelling out that he wished to accompany them on their journey after all. Up until this very moment, Bofur realized, he did not notice the change in Thorin's mood. He had been so preoccupied with his newfound friendship with Nori, which really began only upon entering the Shire a week previous, that he didn't notice much else. It was nice having a new friend, Bofur thought, and surely Thorin would want a friend in Bilbo.
But one look at the dwarven king, as he sat back against a large rock, blue eyes fixed on the smallest member of the group, would tell anyone that he definitely did not see a friend, not even a potential one, in the hobbit. Instead, one might begin to think that Thorin already disliked the hobbit, and with the stubbornness of dwarves it would take a lot for the small-sized burglar to gain the king's trust. Clearly, the hobbit sensed this himself, as he stood in a huff and stormed quickly to the bedrolls everyone had set up just before nightfall. This only fueled Thorin's apparent anger, but he did nothing but slump further into the side of the hard rock. Of course, not much of the company was around to witness the hobbit's tiny fit, as most had already fallen victim to a deep sleep. Besides Thorin and Bilbo, only Bofur, Nori and Bifur were up, and Bifur was paying as little attention as possible to anything besides the bright flames of oranges, reds, and yellows.
"What do you suppose the hobbit did to deserve such hard stares?" Bofur asked, although he suspected that Bilbo, the hobbit in question, did absolutely nothing at all. Bilbo seemed like a nice enough fellow, even if he did stomp his feet around in frustration a lot. Perhaps, however, the dwarves asked for that sometimes. Nori just shrugged, no longer holding his gaze on the two unhappy beings across the camp, but instead on Bofur. Bofur turned to him and smiled a warm smile, placing his now empty mug onto the ground before him, and pulling his knees into his chest.
"I don't know how anyone could have it in themselves to hate a hobbit. Perhaps he just has a crush but doesn't know what to do about it." Bofur laughed at himself before continuing, louder than expected, "I mean, I've never seen a hobbit up close before. Look at how small and precious he is! I just want to hold him." Despite the fact that he was joking, he watched as Nori's soft smile shifted quickly into an unreadable, but surely not happy, expression.
What Bofur did not notice, however, was the sudden tightening of Thorin Oakenshield's posture at his words.