Not mine, don't sue.
I felt the rider before I saw him. There was something not right in the woods. They've never felt so cold before. You'd think a rider in black on a remote road would make you think of robbers, but such are rare in the Shire. I knew it was theft that the rider was attempting. He was after my friend.
I didn't know why but I knew that the rider wanted Frodo. I could see in Frodo's eyes that he knew the rider was after him and he also knew why; although he wasn't going to tell me. My heartbeat seemed to slow despite the cold and the fear that moment seemed to last.
"I have to leave the Shire, Sam and I must get to Bree," Frodo said. I know he's never been to Bree, never even left the Shire. He's running from the rider in black and whatever he or it represents. Frodo is my friend I have to do whatever I can to help him. The thought takes a fraction a heartbeat as I think what I can do. I know these woods, I know the way. We have to cross the Brandywine.
"Right, Buckleberry ferry. Follow me." I'm not sure where the courage comes from as I run through the trees. I can feel a coldness following us, and strangely an emptiness; there is definitely something there but it isn't right, it isn't natural.
We ran, the river wasn't far. We clambered on to the ferry and I pushed us away from the bank. It was only then that I realised that Frodo wasn't with us; he ran and jumped just as we hit the main stream. For half a heartbeat I thought he might not make it but he landed safely. I shivered as I saw the rider on the bank. The river separated us and we were safe, at least for now.