Modest_Proposal July 15, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck As they reached the final pass, every path felt strained. He longed for his companion and pony, who now dwelt far enough away that he might as well be grazing in the hills. But he was not trouble for his pony’s sake, for Radagast was many things (perhaps too many things,) but his tenderness for animals was principle. Gramtyng "Not around these parts, master Holbytla. In truth, before I came to these parts, I thought your people a fairy tale. But then I've adventured with two since..." He paused for a moment. "Ah, no; I lie. There was an old abandoned hobbit hole, nearby the Wolven Wood. We hid ourselves in it... Feels like half a lifetime ago." “You said it again. Holbytla. Why do you call me that? When I return home, I’ll sing them songs of Holbytla’s. Tiny, brown things that they were. Fishing in the Great River.” ------ The party’s insistent talk about Dwimmerhorn and Gladden fields continued to damped his thoughts. He had dwelled on it ever since they'd passed by it. Though their journey had seen silvery greens and snow and crystal waters, he could only remember the fields in shades of grey and rot. To quell further discussion, he spoke up at first quietly, but with increasing confidence. “Dwimmerhorn moving about sounds like nonsense, if you ask me. How do you imagine it moves? More likely it's men’s boats bouncing around in the river mist, not knowing North from South. You can’t see past your nose during the worst of it. You see a miserable pile of stones and mistake it for another.” Lothlorien. He heard Lachiel speak. In some ways preferred not to understand Elvish, for it sounded like flowing water. "Lothlorien." He said. "What is it like? In a word?"
Modest_Proposal July 15, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck As they reached the final pass, every path felt strained. He longed for his companion and pony, who now dwelt far enough away that he might as well be grazing in the hills. But he was not trouble for his pony’s sake, for Radagast was many things (perhaps too many things,) but his tenderness for animals was principle. Gramtyng "Not around these parts, master Holbytla. In truth, before I came to these parts, I thought your people a fairy tale. But then I've adventured with two since..." He paused for a moment. "Ah, no; I lie. There was an old abandoned hobbit hole, nearby the Wolven Wood. We hid ourselves in it... Feels like half a lifetime ago." “You said it again. Holbytla. Why do you call me that? When I return home, I’ll sing them songs of Holbytla’s. Tiny, brown things that they were. Fishing in the Great River.” ------ The party’s insistent talk about Dwimmerhorn and Gladden fields continued to damped his thoughts. He had dwelt on it ever since they'd passed by it. Though their journey had seen silvery greens and snow and crystal waters, he could only remember the fields in shades of grey and rot. To quell further discussion, he spoke up at first quietly, but with increasing confidence. “Dwimmerhorn moving about sounds like nonsense, if you ask me. How do you imagine it moves? More likely it's men’s boats bouncing around in the river mist, not knowing North from South. You can’t see past your nose during the worst of it. You see a miserable pile of stones and mistake it for another.” Lothlorien. He heard Lachiel speak. In some ways preferred not to understand Elvish, for it sounded like flowing water. "Lothlorien." He said. "What is it like? In a word?"
Modest_Proposal July 15, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck As they reached the final pass, every path felt strained and narrow. He longed for his companion and pony, who now dwelt far enough away that he might as well be grazing in the hills. But he was not trouble for his pony’s sake, for Radagast was many things (perhaps too many things,) but his tenderness for animals was principle. Gramtyng "Not around these parts, master Holbytla. In truth, before I came to these parts, I thought your people a fairy tale. But then I've adventured with two since..." He paused for a moment. "Ah, no; I lie. There was an old abandoned hobbit hole, nearby the Wolven Wood. We hid ourselves in it... Feels like half a lifetime ago." “You said it again. Holbytla. Why do you call me that? When I return home, I’ll sing them songs of Holbytla’s. Tiny, brown things that they were. Fishing in the Great River.” ------ The party’s insistent talk about Dwimmerhorn and Gladden fields continued to damped his thoughts. He had dwelt on it ever since they'd passed by it. Though their journey had seen silvery greens and snow and crystal waters, he could only remember the fields in shades of grey and rot. To quell further discussion, he spoke up at first quietly, but with increasing confidence. “Dwimmerhorn moving about sounds like nonsense, if you ask me. How do you imagine it moves? More likely it's men’s boats bouncing around in the river mist, not knowing North from South. You can’t see past your nose during the worst of it. You see a miserable pile of stones and mistake it for another.” Lothlorien. He heard Lachiel speak. In some ways preferred not to understand Elvish, for it sounded like flowing water. "Lothlorien." He said. "What is it like? In a word?"
Modest_Proposal July 15, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck As they reached the final pass, every trail felt stretched out and narrow. He longed for his companion and pony, who now dwelt far enough away that he might as well be grazing in the hills. But he was not trouble for his pony’s sake, for Radagast was many things (perhaps too many things,) but his tenderness for animals was principle. Gramtyng "Not around these parts, master Holbytla. In truth, before I came to these parts, I thought your people a fairy tale. But then I've adventured with two since..." He paused for a moment. "Ah, no; I lie. There was an old abandoned hobbit hole, nearby the Wolven Wood. We hid ourselves in it... Feels like half a lifetime ago." “You said it again. Holbytla. Why do you call me that? When I return home, I’ll sing them songs of Holbytla’s. Tiny, brown things that they were. Fishing in the Great River.” ------ The party’s insistent talk about Dwimmerhorn and Gladden fields continued to damped his thoughts. He had dwelt on it ever since they'd passed by it. Though their journey had seen silvery greens and snow and crystal waters, he could only remember the fields in shades of grey and rot. To quell further discussion, he spoke up at first quietly, but with increasing confidence. “Dwimmerhorn moving about sounds like nonsense, if you ask me. How do you imagine it moves? More likely it's men’s boats bouncing around in the river mist, not knowing North from South. You can’t see past your nose during the worst of it. You see a miserable pile of stones and mistake it for another.” Lothlorien. He heard Lachiel speak. In some ways preferred not to understand Elvish, for it sounded like flowing water. "Lothlorien." He said. "What is it like? In a word?"
