Anything recognizable belongs to Pet Fly or Mr. Tolkein - not I

Also, my apologies for the tardiness in uploading this chapter. I had it ready to go yesterday, but one thing led to another and I ended up polishing it and adding to it through to-day. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing

I glanced up as the two missing members of our party entered the common room where I had gathered the rest of the party to wait for them. I raised an eyebrow at the sight of Jim's hand firmly clasped in Pippin's, but the hobbit released it almost immediately to rush over and talk excitedly at Merry. Jim just shook his head, though I couldn't tell whether he was shaking it at my eyebrow or Pippin's impulsive actions. Perhaps both, I thought briefly, before returning my attention to more pressing business. "Did you get the pony?" I asked, and managed to attract Pippin's attention away from Merry on to myself.

"Oh yes! We got the pony and tack for five silver pennies!" he bubbled. I frowned. "Five silver pennies is no modest sum for a pony, even including tack," I said in confusion. Why was Pippin so happy about getting such a price for a pony? "Well, Bill Ferny wanted twelve pennies to start out with, but Jim managed to convince him that five was the best price," he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a renowned skinflint like Bill Ferny to agree to a price seven pennies less than what he had originally asked for. I looked at Jim speculatively. "Should we be departing with more haste?" I asked, the glimmer of a suspicion worming its way into my head. Jim met my eyes squarely before shrugging. "I threatened to break his jaw and make him swallow his teeth. The pony isn't in good condition," he added by what he probably thought was by way of an explanation. I was torn between upbraiding him for his conduct and congratulating him on getting such a good price. Deciding that we really didn't have time for either option, I turned and instructed Sam to stow the packs evenly and securely on the pony – it was long past time to leave.

I took a deep, refreshing breath of pine-scented air. It felt good to be moving again, going forward towards my goal of finding my guide. Pippin was doing a creditable job as a stand-in, though – I swear the kid hadn't stopped talking since we got on the road. I was grateful for the distraction, however; I had opened up all my senses to their fullest, and was scanning both the path and the surrounding forest. This was unfamiliar territory, and it put me on edge to be so far out of my range. I took a deep breath and started to sort through the bouquet of odors that reached my nose; the clean crispness of pine, the subtler scents of moss and decay. A second breath brought the musk of nearby deer, the earthy smell of badgers off to the left. The faint smell of wolf and fainter smells of bear and man had me raising my metaphorical hackles. Satisfied that none of the larger predators were in the immediate area, I turned my sense of smell down and returned my attention to what Pippin was talking about – something about a person named "Bilbo."

I smiled and nodded, pretending to listen to the actual words, though I was actually just letting the voice wash over my ears and provide a welcome distraction of the rest of the world. The other hobbits were tossing us – well, just me most likely – apprehensive glances. Apparently they were wondering how much longer I could take Pippin's inane babbling before I snapped an took his head off. I would snap, I supposed, if I actually had to listen to what he was saying. Since it was just his voice I was listening to, however, I counted it unlikely to be that annoying for awhile. Thankfully, Strider was far enough ahead that I didn't have to deal with sympathy from that quarter.

Finally it appeared Sam, at least, had had enough. "Let the man alone! We don't want to listen to you blather on all the day long, an' if we don't he certainly don't!" Pippin opened his mouth as if to argue, but I put a hand on his shoulder and shook my head. "The talking is meant as a distraction. If you keep at it too long it becomes part of the background noise and is ignored," I murmured softly. Pippin closed his mouth and nodded seriously. Frodo, Sam and Merry looked as us curiously, but Pippin forestalled any questions they might have had by launching into a complaint about how hungry he was and demanding breakfast.

The other hobbits apparently agreed, because they stopped and began breaking out the cooking gear. I looked at them askance – hadn't they already eaten breakfast? I hadn't gotten any, but I assumed they had eaten while Pippin and I had gone to get the pony – whom Sam had rather facetiously named Bill. I shrugged. Apparently, this was how hobbits traveled. Strider came walking back to see what was going on in short order and stared. "Gentlemen, we do not stop 'til night-fall," he said, indicating they should pack their things and get a move on, finding time to give me a glare. I held up my hands as innocently as I could – I hadn't known that this stop was unplanned. Even though I had suspected.

"What about breakfast?" Pippin objected. Strider seemed puzzled. "You already had it," he said. I started doing a bit of staring at the hobbits myself. Why were they stopping to eat breakfast if they'd already eaten breakfast? "We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?" was Pippin's attempt at a witty rejoinder. Strider just shook his head and started walking again. "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip," Merry observed sagely as he picked up what little equipment he'd managed to get out and put it away again. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper! He's knows about them, doesn't he?" Pippin asked frantically. "I wouldn't count on it," replied Merry as he began walking apple came sailing over a bush, obviously thrown by Strider. Merry caught it neatly and handed it to Pippin, who looked stunned. A second apple came sailing over the bush, but I snagged it out of the air and put it in a pocket to save for later. "Try not to think about it too much," I advised Pip. He crunched sadly into the apple.

"But I can't think of anything else to think about," he complained after he'd finished swallowing. "It's so boring, just walking along." I eyed him thoughtfully. "It isn't boring, really," I murmured, for Pippin's ears only. "You want to hear what's been going on in this neck of the woods for the past few days?" He just looked at me in confusion, so I tapped the side of my nose. Comprehension dawned, and he nodded eagerly, taking another bite of his apple as he did so. I started with smell, then moved on to the other senses, keeping my voice low so that the others couldn't hear what I was saying. Hopefully.

I just couldn't figure it. Firstly, Mister Jim hadn't bitten Pip's head off earlier when he'd been making a fool nuisance of himself. I just assumed he wasn't the sort of person who'd put up with that, I guess. Still, it was odd. Odder still was when I'd tried to get Pip to be quiet, he acted like he hadn't minded Pip's jabbering – though it sounded like he was giving as good as he'd gotten earlier. The sound of his voice so low gave me the shudders, though; any lower, and I'd swear it was a cat purring not a Man talking. There was something odd about Mister Jim, no mistake. I didn't trust his eyes – even when he was actin' nice, they looked as hard and cold as two drops of ice. It was downright unnat'ral, it was. And the other night, when those things had shrieked, all the light and life had gone out those icy eyes. I'd thought they were cold when they had light in them – it was twenty times worse when they was empty. I glanced back and saw an entranced Pippin hanging on to Mister Jim's every word, and it worried me. It worried Merry too – our eyes met as we both looked forward after glancing back. Only Master Frodo seemed unworried – by Mister Jim at least. Master Frodo had bigger things to worry about, I guess, so I kept my concerns to myself. But I'd keep an eye on Mister Jim, just in case – and just let him try and get passed me to Master Frodo, I thought. Let him just try.