"We shall freeze to death out here!" Merry declared, shivering as he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

"That ranger is trying to starve us, I tell you!" Pippin murmured to his friend, patting his growling stomach. "Imagine, only one breakfast a day. How primitive!"

They continued to grumble as they trudged along behind Strider and Frodo, who were fighting the urge to rip their own ears off. They had been travelling for less than a day and they were already fed up with the two younger hobbits. Frodo shot Strider a look of apology for his friends' behaviour, while Strider seemed to be wondering what had possessed Frodo to bring them along. Moreover, what exactly had they expected from such a journey? The wilderness, after all, was not known for its cosiness and abundance of food.

Gathering what remained of his patience, he stopped and turned around to address the grumpy duo. "Gentlemen, you would do well to remember you are not in the Shire. But you are welcome to go back there if you wish." Neither of the hobbits liked the idea of making the journey home alone, and so stayed where they were, hanging their heads to avoid his irritated gaze. "So stop your complaining! Or, better yet, say nothing unless it is helpful."

Little did Strider know, Merry and Pippin were not the only ones feeling miserable. Bridie, who took the rear of the group, was not enjoying the trek through the country any more than they were, and she loved the outdoors. At least the hobbits were wearing breeches and didn't have to worry about tripping on them. Bridie had already done this several times, tearing the hem of her dress and spattering it with mud and dew. She was certain that her body would be covered in chilblains by the day's end as she had neither gloves nor scarf, and her cloak did not provide ample protection against the chilly autumn weather. But she was determined to prove that she was a capable traveller. So, she gritted her teeth, tucked her hands under her arms and marched on.

"It'll be worth it when we get to Rivendell," she said quietly.

"Aye, that it will," agreed Sam, who was leading Bill the pony alongside her.

Bridie blushed at having been caught talking to herself.

Sam gave her an apologetic look. "Begging your pardon, miss. But I am so looking forward to seeing Rivendell. I hear it's a beautiful place, with grand buildings and many gardens. And-and they say it's the home of elves. Elves!" The hobbit's round face lit up and he gazed into the distance dreamily. "I would dearly love to see them! I've always wanted to, ever since I heard of them in tales as a lad!"

Bridie giggled. "Well, perhaps now you will get your wish."

"But what about you?" Sam looked up at Bridie inquiringly. "You said your ma lived in Rivendell. Surely you must have heard a bit about it?"

"No," Bridie said, shaking her head. "My mam never told me anything about the place where she grew up, or even of her childhood, for that matter. But she did tell me a little about elves."

This piqued Sam's curiosity and he pressed her for details. The girl was more than happy to oblige, and she began reciting the stories she had heard as a child. Her words quickly reached the ears of the other three hobbits, and soon they were all listening to Bridie intently as they walked, much to Strider's relief.

The group made good progress across the rugged terrain that day, thanks to Strider's guidance. When the sun began to set, they finally stopped to rest in a small woodland area. Since it was not very dark yet, Strider decided it would be safe to light a fire, and soon Bridie and the hobbits were huddled together, warming their hands over the crackling orange flames. Strider announced he was going to find them some supper. Glancing at Bridie, he asked her "Do you still want to learn how to hunt?"

At the girl's eager nod, Strider bade her to take up her bow and arrows, and follow him. Like wolves, they crept deep into the trees, keeping low. Bridie marvelled at how stealthily Strider moved through the underbrush and tried her best to imitate his movements. Suddenly, Strider came to a stop and looked at the ground closely.

"Do you know what these are?" he whispered, pointing down at a small muddy patch.

Squinting at the ground, Bridie was able to make out a few deep marks that looked vaguely like large teardrops. "Are they animal footprints?"

Strider nodded. "But what kind of animal, do you think?"

Having little to no knowledge of animals' feet, Bridie took a guess. "A cow?"

"No, but they are similar. These prints belong to a deer. This is the time when they come out to feed."

With a finger to his lips, Strider signalled to continue moving. Bridie's legs were beginning to ache from squatting but she didn't dare complain, not wanting to ruin her first hunt. Every so often, Strider would point out the various signs that indicated a deer's presence: a scrape on a tree, scraps of food, and even more prints in the earth. Then, as they came to a small glade, something caught Strider's eye and he directed Bridie towards a clump of bushes and told her to stay hidden. Peering over the top, they saw their target: a young deer grazing peacefully amidst the trees. At Strider's instruction, Bridie drew an arrow from her quiver and fixed it on the string, then took aim. All of her nerves were on edge, knowing that everything depended on this shot, so she could not afford to make a mistake. With a shaky breath, she loosed the arrow, sending it flying through the air and into the deer's leg. The animal gave a cry of pain as it staggered and fell onto its side. Strider quickly loaded his own bow and planted an arrow in the deer's ribs, killing it instantly.

A state of shock overcame Bridie as she stared at the now lifeless deer laying on the ground. Part of her felt ashamed, disgusted even, for what she had just done. As if he had read her thoughts, Strider placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It is not pleasant, knowing that you have aided in the death of an innocent creature," he said. "But there are times when we must harden our hearts if we are to survive."

Bridie nodded understandingly, then helped Strider to carry the deer back to camp. The hobbits look pleased at the sight of their catch and at the prospect of finally being able to eat, but when Strider drew a knife from his belt and began to carve up the deer's body, they had to avert their eyes. Soon, the gamey scent of cooking venison filled the air. Once the meat was cooked, Strider allowed it to cool a little before handing a piece each to his companions.

"It may not be what you are used to having at home. But, while you are out here, you shall have to make do with what is available."

The earthy taste was certainly new to Bridie and the hobbits, but not at all unpleasant. In fact, when they grew accustomed to the flavour, they remarked that it was almost like beef. By the time they had finished their meal, night had fallen. While Strider doused the fire, the hobbits and Bridie arranged their blankets on the ground and lay down. The hobbits were asleep within seconds, but Bridie was not so lucky. She tossed and turned, but she just couldn't get comfortable. It felt strange not having a mattress to sleep on or a pillow beneath her head. Frustrated, she sat up, bleary-eyed and groggy, and noticed Strider sitting under a tree nearby, staring out into the night. Wandering if he would mind some company, Bridie stood up and approached him.

"Mister Strider?" she called softly to avoid startling him. "May I sit with you?"

Strider looked up at her and, with a wave of his hand, he invited her over. "You are not used to sleeping outside, I guess," he said.

Bridie made herself comfortable on the grass beside him and tucked her knees under her chin. "How you rangers manage it, I'll never know."

Strider chuckled. "It does feel strange at first, but we who live in the wild cannot afford to be particular about such things. Besides, you become used to it after a few weeks."

"I imagine it must have been hard for my mother when she set out on her own," Bridie observed, wondering if Bertha had wandered over these same lands during her travels. "Still, I'm sure she was well prepared, what with having you as her teacher."

"Although, I did not support her wish to become a ranger, to begin with," Strider admitted. "Her father would have growled at me for letting his daughter take up such a dangerous life. But she would not be discouraged."

Bridie grinned to herself. That certainly sounded like her mother: independent and unwavering in her choices, regardless of whether or not they would benefit her. "What was my mother like?" she asked. "What do you remember about her?"

A small smile came to Strider's face as he met Bridie's gaze. In her, he saw the image of her mother, of the girl to whom he had been a mentor and a father so long ago. The likeness was almost painful to him.

"Her birthname was Lothuial, which is Sindarin for 'twilight flower'. But, as a young girl, folk would call her 'Ruindis', or 'fiery bride'. How she came to have that name, I do not know, but her red hair and temperament likely had something to do with it. She was a lively young thing, your mother. Always running rampant through her village, getting into all sorts of trouble."

"What about her family? Gandalf said they died when she was still very young."

Strider nodded. "It happened when she was but nine years of age. Orcs attacked their village one day and many were slain, including her parents. Her father was a close friend of mine and, before he died, it was his wish that I should raise his daughter. The death of her father was a grave loss for Lothuial, for she was very close to him. I think that was part of what inspired her to become a ranger: a desire to take his place."

As Bridie listened to the ranger recounting the events of her mother's youth, she felt a newfound respect for the woman, and she began to understand why it had taken her so long to open up about her past. After all, who would want to relive the tragedy of watching their kin be slaughtered?

"It must have taken her a great deal of strength," Bridie said, "to live through all of that and not let it break her." She sighed and looked down at the ground. "Do you think I will ever be as strong as she was?"

Strider wrapped an arm around her shoulders and softly spoke her name, bringing her gaze back to him. "Bridie, there are different kinds of strength and not one of them is lesser than the others. Strength is not something that is handed to us, but is built over time through struggling. And it is only after we overcome our hardships that we realise just how strong we truly are. Remember that, little star."

Bridie gazed up into Strider's eyes, now kind and encouraging, and smiled, and was glad that her mother had had him for a guardian throughout her childhood. When she finally returned to her sleeping place beside the hobbits and lay down on her blanket, she felt determination run new through her body. She would see this journey through with Strider's guidance. Together, they would help the hobbits to reach Rivendell, no matter how long it took, and she would protect her friends with all she had.