A/N: This drabble is set in Minas Tirith.
Boot
Little Elanor dragged the Thing across the room. She had found it in the closet and had recognised it as the funny brown or black things that the Big People wore on their feet. She glanced, frowning, down at her own feet and sat down heavily.
Laboriously, she lugged the Thing over to her own feet and spent moments batting with her limbs: her feet would jerk one way, while her arms – holding the boot – would jerk the other.
The door opened and her father came in. 'What are you doing, Ela?' Sam asked crouching down beside her.
'What is this, Da?' she asked holding it up.
'The Big People call it a boot,' Sam explained. 'Between you and me, Ela, I think they're tenderfeet. They can't keep their own feet warm, so they wear boots!'