Modest_Proposal June 14, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Cecil curled his toes down through the soil and let them spread. After days of hard-rooted forests, he was back amongst the hills and enjoying every moment of it - at least until he encountered the fort ruins. He did not dwell on what manner of creature could splinter wood so horribly. In those moments, he walked closer to Dahr-Ol and spoke of the Shire; the way the sunset rose over the hills like the weight of a pendulum clock and the Hobbit’s love of tarry songs. “There’s a song for everything. Every little stone. The way smoke swirls out a bowl pipe. The cranky wheels of Hamfast's barrow.” He sung a few to Dahr-Ol, trying to impress him with tales of places he’d hoped were strange to him: “Oh, the day was long and the catch was low. Leave her, Sancho, leave her! I guess it’s time for us to go! It’s time for us to leave her! Beware the cricket song, I say. Leave her, Sancho, leave her! They’ll steal your eyes and your boat away! It’s time for us to leave her! There’s Hildibrand Kook and his fisherman stare! Leave her, Sancho, leave her! And Buckle-B Fer’, the old man there!” All while he sang, he raised his pipe to any who'd look. "You know, I am tending important business around here. But I hope it's not found too soon."
Modest_Proposal June 14, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Cecil curled his toes into the soil and let them spread. After days of hard-rooted forests, he was back amongst the hills and enjoying every moment of it - at least until he encountered the fort ruins. He did not dwell on what manner of creature could splinter wood so horribly. In those moments, he walked closer to Dahr-Ol and spoke of the Shire; the way the sunset rose over the hills like the weight of a pendulum clock and the Hobbit’s love of tarry songs. “There’s a song for everything. Every little stone. The way smoke swirls out a bowl pipe. The cranky wheels of Hamfast's barrow.” He sung a few to Dahr-Ol, trying to impress him with tales of places he’d hoped were strange to him: “Oh, the day was long and the catch was low. Leave her, Sancho, leave her! I guess it’s time for us to go! It’s time for us to leave her! Beware the cricket song, I say. Leave her, Sancho, leave her! They’ll steal your eyes and your boat away! It’s time for us to leave her! There’s Hildibrand Kook and his fisherman stare! Leave her, Sancho, leave her! And Buckle-B Fer’, the old man there!” All while he sang, he raised his pipe to any who'd look. "You know, I am tending important business around here. But I hope it's not found too soon."
