Mood:
suaveTopic: "Shaken, not stirred"(10)
Two hobbit warriors counted the lines on the face of each other, and thought about their unspoken promises. They are always among the first to receive requests for assistance; money these days as opposed to the ephemeral when times were oh so different. Scholarships at the College of the Shire exist because of their generosity and their feeling for faces now unseen. What surprises most is that they have so little to say even when they have accomplished so much. If truth indeed be told the silence gives them solace and mutual respect.
The sun has come and gone twice since they reminisced through tales once filled with laughter and good fortune. Gin accompanied each switchback over mountain trails now littered with the flotsam of a generation disappearing into the mist. Not unlike the night when all the hobbits returned to the Shire from their great adventures and they experienced the difficulty of eye upon eye. These two shared a lamentation. As long as one stood, the other knew that his back would never be exposed.
Those closest to them were there listening for evidence of chagrin or lost dreams. All that was is now falling gently and reflecting the obsidian of a metropolitan road to home. Friends, and brothers, be they. It is a stately being, and well-suited for Frodo and the Fellowship of the Ring.
