Chapter Four: Gloin and Oin
"My name is Gloin, no more, no less!" the red-haired dwarf stated, fists resting on his hips, exasperated. "I don't answer to anything else!"
Tilting his head quizzically, Beorn's gaze slid to his beehives before returning to the dwarf who had marched up to him, and jumped into a lengthy and passionate rant without even a polite how-do-you-do. Well, never let it be claimed a skin-changer disregarded his manners!
"Good afternoon! Fine weather today, isn't it, Swe—"
"Don't!" the dwarf shouted, wildly waving his hands. "You may have given nicknames to my companions, but I will not stand for it! Terribly unbecoming for a dwarf to be stuck with such a silly thing," he shook his head vigorously. "We are a proud race, known for our prowess, fearlessness, pride, eye for finding beauty in the mountains. And to be called something like…"
Beorn ventured, "Sweet Piglet?"
Gloin's right eye twitched. He took several deep breathes. "I am nothing of the sort!" he grounded out. "Piglets are small, defenseless. They are more like hobbits than dwarves."
The man's head tilted the other way, his expression considering. "Aye, I suppose that is true. Yet all the same, I name you Sweet Piglet. You are very good at cuddling," he complimented.
Gloin's face turned beet red. "Never again," he warned. "Why did I even try…?" Throwing up his hands he spun on his heel. After only a few brisk long strides, he sharply turned back.
"And stop calling my brother Billy Goat Gruff!" he ordered before stomping off.
"But…he makes me think of a goat with his hair and beard," Beorn protested, huffing. Dwarves were such odd creatures. They were covered with hair and so cuddly, yet worried about such things like dignity and ways of a dwarf.