Logs-Good Advice

Grass Field
Here, north of Bree proper, a rolling field overgrown with grasses and
wildflowers, dandelions and berry-bushes spreads west of the road north. Here
and there a small tree provides shade on the mounds of grass, ample coverage
in the heat or the rain for one to sit and enjoy the open space. South and
east a large hedge has grown up, blocking the view of Bree.

Obvious exits:
East

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Thu Nov 20 04:23:18 2003
Bree time: Early Evening <about 6 PM (early dinner)> on Sterday of Autumn -
October 1,1430
Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon

Breelands Weather
The early evening autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. A misty rain
comes down from the day sky.
===============================================================================

The little grass field just outside of Bree is peaceful this late-afternoon
autumn day... A gentle breeze blows though- though it is cool, and drab grey
clouds hang overhead. Megan Tasselberry has found herself a place to sit-
dressed in her autumn clothes, a merry tune (however off-key) on her lips as
she sits with her basket beside her- berry juice on her face and flowers in
her hair. For her part, she is the perfect image of innocence and childhood-
despite the fact that she's no longer a child at all.. Perhaps she just feels
like acting as one for today.

A lone figure comes tramping along from the direction of the town, dirty fleece
about his shoulders, crook in hand and an empty satchel slung across his
shoulder ... no, not alone. For old Hugh Bramblefleece's head is twisted
round as he walks, and it's obvious he's being followed. His companion of the
day is a rather elderly-looking dog, her long golden coat whitened in many
places, her steps stiff and her head hanging low. "C'mon, Lassie," the old
man calls, snapping his fingers encouragingly, only then turning to see that
someone has already claimed this spot as theirs. "Why- good afternoon ta ye,
Miss Tassleberry," he manages eventually, not scowling /too/ much.

Megan's eyes turn up to regard the man and his dog as they approach, finger's
paused in a long daisy-chain which, by the length, she may have been working
on for hours. After a brief glance, she looks away again and continues
humming- seemingly uninterested in the two- perhaps too wrapped up in her
work- occasionally reaching into the basket beside her to draw out a handful
of berries. Throwing these into her mouth, the tune would be muffled as she
hummed.. It's only when she recieves the greeting that she looks up again, an
unconcerned smile on her berry-stained lips- though her eyes are somewhat
cold at the apparent scowl.. "Good morning, Mr. Bramblefleece..." she replies
absently- giving him a brief nod, then going back to her work.

"It's afternoon," Hugh corrects, features wrinkling in puzzlement. "Ye'd not
noticed? My, ye must've been busy. Nice to see the young folk so
industrious-like, long past these days meself." He watches the daisy-chain
making in silence for a moment as he waits for the elderly dog to catch up,
then comments as he snaps his fingers at the beast again (perhaps he feels
some need to make polite conversation?), "Me daughter Sally's up from Combe
at the moment. Eh, she's getting a bit long in the tooth these days." He's
looking at the dog as he states this last.

"Oh..." a pause, and Megan's eyes shift to look at the sun.. well.. not so much
the sun as it's position in the sky- after all, it would be a stupid thing to
look directly into the sun to try and tell the time, and it's covered up by
clouds anyway. "Oh..." she repeats, lowering her daisy-chain slightly, the
tips of her fingers green.. "Yes.. I forgot it was afternoon.. I mean.. I
didn't realise.. And.. I'm just making daisy chains and eating berries.." now
her eyes drift to fall on the dog, and a playful smile spreads across her
face- "Hello there," her voice is soft- as if she were talking to a child..
Megan certainly is in a strange mood today.. "Your daughter is getting a bit
long in the tooth?" she seems puzzled. Perhaps she wasn't aware of the fact
that teeth could, in fact, grow.. Much to the disappointment of her brother
no doubt- as he had always argued that teeth couldn't grow.

"Eh? You feelin' all right, lass?" Hugh stares blankly back at Megan for a full
minute before the penny drops. "No, no - this old lady here is gettin' long
in the tooth," he gives the dog's flank a pat, then rattles on, "'Er
shepherding days are long gone - but Sally and Henrick keep 'er as a pet now.
Ain't much else she's good for, wolf could get right up close afore she'd
hear 'em."
Indeed, the dog hadn't so much as turned her head at the sound of Megan's voice
- though Hugh's pat seems to rouse her. A moment later a damp nose is
questing towards the seated Megan's face.

Megan's eyes rest on Hugh a moment- and for the briefest of seconds, there's
not a trace of any masks that she usually wears. Quickly she diverts her
attention back to the daisies with a shrug. "I'm feeling fine, Mr.
Bramblefleece... Oh.. well that makes more sense then.." Of course it does-
everyone knows that dog's teeth grow... Well.. possibly everyone in the
Tasselberry family, anyway.. "Poor thing.." she mutters, stretching out a
hand toward the dog, her eyes almost.. sympathetic..
It seems then, as if Megan has made a decision, somewhere in her mind, and so
draws herself up, takes a deep breath, and in the next moment she's looking
to Hugh with one of those dazzling smiles. "But it's good to hear she's being
taken care of!"

The dog sniffs briefly at Megan's hand, diverted for but a moment, then tries
to lick at her face. Old Hugh chuckles at that, his earlier sour mood
apparently lifted a bit. "Seems ta have taken a shine to ye - she wasn't too
happy round 'em foreign folk, the Dunlanders. Nor was I, mind, glad to see
the back of 'em. Pity those Dwarves didn't go with 'em." And Megan's dazzling
smile works wonders, for he smiles back, wrinkles deepening on his seemed
face. "What have ye been pickin' there? Was out for filberts meself - old
back don't take so kindly ta stoopin' fer berries."

Megan giggles quietly as she dog tries to lick at her face, gently pushing
Lassie's snout in another direction then scratching behind her ear as
compensation. Megan looks up at the man thoughtfully, then gives a shrug.
"Some of them Dunland folks aren't so bad.. that Mr. Banedil for example- he
seemed perfectly lovely- could have fitted right into Bree if he'd wanted
to.. I don't know if you got the chance to meet him.. but he's still here, I
think.. I haven't seen him for a while.. I hope I shall again before I leave
for the Shire..." Megan trails off, digging into her basket and offering a
berry to the dog, popping some into her own mouth.. She then looks down to
imspect her basket, giving a shrug and pointing out where all the berries
grew in the field. "Whatever I could find- they're all good..." another
dazzling smile- though hardly genuine.

"Mister what? Outlandish names 'em folk have. Not met 'im, don't want to - the
feller I sold the sheep ta was bad enough. Half-witted I reckon." He taps the
side of his head, watching as Lassie gulps down the berry, then noses at the
basket. "Oy, none of that," he snaps out, tapping the dog on the flank with
his staff (eliciting a whine), then returns to Megan. "Yer goin' ta the
Shire? Whatever for?" He's watching her as though waiting for some sign of
madness.

Megan looks somewhat frustrated as if she didn't have the time of day for idle
chit-chat at this hour... "Mr. Banedil... and I think you sold the sheep to
Mr. Elrabin.. they called it Bree.. well, they told me they'd bought some
sheep from here anyway.. a little lamb. You mustn't lable them so, Mr.
Bramblefleece. They don't speak our tongue so well, so it's not their fault
if they sound a little slow..." Megan, watching the dog nosing about a the
basket, reaches in to pull out a few more and holds them out to the dog with
a gentle smile. As if to challenge the man, Megan shrugs in reply; "Because
maybe it will be better than being here? An adventure? Something new and
different.. Mr. Thatcher and I hope to visit together- we have some buisness
to attend to also.."

Hugh doesn't seem to have anything further to offer about 'foreigners' at
first, simply shaking his head as Lassie snuffles at the berries in Megan's
hand before downing them in a single gulp. "You sure 'em things are good for
her digestion?" he wonders warily before returning to the other subject. "Ah,
Mr Thatcher - he's that fellow from the Inn?" A grunt follows (some
reflection of his opinion of Andrick?), then he lowers his voice. "You want
ta watch yerself, Miss Tassleberry. Some of 'em in the Shire are decent,
hardworkin' folks, just like us - but I've heard there's a few as haven't
done a decent day's work in their life! Don't let 'em take advantage of yer
good nature."

Megan again shrugs her shoulders in response to his question, now just patting
the dog gently. "I've not heard of a dog falling sick from eating berries
before, Mr. Bramblefleece.." despite her child-like appearance today, Megan
is speaking like a woman and her eyes hold that same kind of expression- most
peculiar.. "Mr. Thatcher used to work at the Inn, yes..." though she tilts
her head slightly at his grunt- watching him carefully for a moment. Anyone
who knew anything about Megan and Andrick's relationship would find it
controversial that they had planned to go to the Shire together.. after all,
they hated each other... right? Another shrug. "There a folk like that in
Bree too, Mr. Bramblefleece... I've never been outside Bree, but I know there
are those here who aren't all that decent and hard woking and yet I don't let
them take advantage of my good nature..." her voice is smooth.. controlled..
somewhat disturbing coming from this diminutive figure- wild brown locks
framing her freckled face- usually filled with so much mischief or merriment,
now it's that womanly wisdom that's rarely seen in Miss. Tasselberry.. A
gentle smile is sent in Hugh's direction. "Thank you for your concern though,
Mr. Bramblefleece..."

"Hmm, well," Hugh clears his throat - come to it, is /he/ really that
hard-working? - and eventually states gruffly, "Well, glad ye can take care
of yerself. Yer welcome, fer the advice that is. Hope ye have a good journey
with .. Mr Thatcher." This time no grunt, but he carefully turns his head
away from Megan for a moment to hide his expression. "Might do a bit of
travellin' meself, ought ta go up ta Combe and see how the flock's doing."
Lassie loses interest in berries suddenly as a bird darts past, and a moment
later is pursuing it across the field at a snail-like gallop. Not much chance
of her catching it ...

Megan smiles somewhat gratefully, hands twisting the daisies idilly, then she
nods her head.. "I'm sure I will, though he doesn't particularly fancy
hobbits I don't think- so I'll have to make sure he doesn't get angry at them
and frighten them..." again, a nod.. "I should probably visit my mother in
Combe before I leave, though I doubt I'll get the time..." Megan watches as
Lassie takes off, an amused smile on her face.

A snort emits from Hugh at Megan's first comment - he really can't help it. "I
can give yer ma a message, if ye like," he offers to the girl, staring
blankly at her daisy-chain as he does - then glances towards where Lassie is
lolloping along. "'Oy! Not so fast, girl. Back here right now!" Which has
about as much effect as a single fly trying to halt a wagon in its tracks.
Well, at least it should be easy to catch up with her ... "I'd better get
goin'," the old man grumbles. "Did ye want me ta take a message to Combe,
then?"

A somewhat suspicious.. or even cold look is sent quickly toward Hugh, though
she doesn't comment. Instead, she reaches out slowly, the daisy chain held
between her fingers, then she drops it into the grass beside her. A somewhat
symbolic gesture? Perhaps.. Though she stands slowly now, brushing the grass
off her tunic and bending to pick up her basket. "No.. My brothers will tell
her if she asks.. I doubt she'll even know I'm gone until I return... Well...
See you when I get back.. Farewell Mr. Bramblefleece!" A gentle smile, a wave
of a hand and a nod of her head, then Megan turns and heads back to Bree,
slowly- humming quietly to herself..

"Good day ta ye, Miss Tasselberry," Hugh responds in turn, and then he's
plodding across the field after his dog.