Logs-Atchoo!

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Hobbit Smials
The road winds up the side of Bree Hill, going past many hobbit smials on the
way to the hilltop. The view from here is lovely, looking out over the city
of Bree and the lands beyond to the west. On a clear day, one can see the
Blue Mountains far, far to the west.

Obvious exits:
South leads to Above the Prancing Pony.
Overhill Smial leads to Overhill Smial - Entrance Hall.
Bushroot Smial leads to Bushroot Smial - Living Room.
Up leads to Near the Top of Bree Hill.
Down the Hill leads to North Bree.

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Fri Nov 07 04:12:14 2003
Bree time: Early Evening <about 6 PM (early dinner)> on Trewsday of Summer -
August 22,1430
Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous Moon

Breelands Weather
The early evening summer air is very hot and dry around you. The day sky is
clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead.
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This summers afternoon in Bree is warm and crisp- a breeze blowing gentle over
the Bree-hill, the last of the sun's rays shining down on the hobbit smials.
Most of the inhabitants here have already headed in for bed, but Megan seems
to have made herself a leat outside one of the front doors to a smial, her
basket beside her and the view stretching out before her.

It's not made clear whether she actually knows the owner of said smial, or
whether she has just chosen it due to it being the best location for a view,
but now she begins to search through her basket, humming quietly as she goes,
seeming perfectly content where she sits- the sun shining down and the breeze
occasionally ruffling her hair.

A small shower of stones clatters down the hillside towards the Smials, and
there is the sound of someone tumbling through the grass. They didn't want to
come down by the winding road? A few moments later, a small blue-clad shape
with ginger pigtails comes into view, grinning as she 'slides' down the
grassy slope on her cloak. Her summer sledging comes to an abrupt halt though
as she fetches up against a rock. "Ouch!" is her initial yell, loud enough to
echo in the still air, but moments later she's rolling over to sit up, seems
the damage was only minor.

Megan lets out a startled yelp of surprise as the stone rain down upon her, and
she bends forward and shields her head with her hands and arms, daring to
peer up once they seem to have stopped tumbling down upon her- just in time
to see the ginger-haired girl come to a halt. "Hello there!" she calls,
waving a hand. "Did you enjoy your sweets?" eyes search quickly for her
guardian- remembering her last meeting with Hugh after he had made the
connection between her and the twins...

The little girl doesnt answer at first, she's busy pulling up her skirts and
inspecting her right knee, which is oozing drops of blood amidst the dirt and
grass-stains. "It /hurts/," she declares to Megan, though it can't be too bad
if she's chattering away. Then she recollects the question. "I liked the
sweets," and she beams. "Granda said I couldn't eat 'em all, though, I had to
return some to you. They're not here," she adds emphatically.

Megan looks sympathetic to the girl, even pouting (though, it looks as though
she's teasing her), peering up to have a look at the wound- as if to make
sure it wasn't too serious. "Well, maybe you should be more careful, hm? Then
you won't get hurt... And you can eat all the sweets if you want, I don't
mind..." at that moment, another figure began to make his way up to her
picnic spot- though, due to the ever-fading light, it's hard to tell exactly
who it is, other than the fact that the figure is relatively similar to
Megan's just taller and more masculine...

The little girl considers that as she prods at her knee. "I am careful," she
declares. "Mostly. But I was bored, and Granda fell asleep ... did you know
he's still up there?" She giggles and points one finger, now bloody, up the
hill, before getting to her feet and limping (probably exaggerated for
effect) towards Megan. "Who's that?" she asks, as the pointing finger swivels
round to indicate the fellow tramping up the slope.

"Well, I suppose that's ok- especially if your grandda fell asleep. I know how
it is though, and.." Megan glances about and lowers her voice slightly. "I
would have done the same thing, eventually... or poked grass up his nose and
in his ears...But it will hurt more if you keep poking at it!!" she watches
the child limp with faked sympathy again, even "Awwing" once as she watches.
At the girl's question, she quickly turns to look- eyes lighting up as she
spots the taller figure of Jacob approaching. "That's one of my brothers-
Jacob..." she says, her voice hushed as she waves a hand to him.

The little girl waves too, quite cheerfully. "Why would I poke grass up his
nose if it hurts," she wonders, muddling the two statements there. "He'd wake
up then, and be all grumpy - he always is if he has a nap when he doesn't
mean to, you know." She lowers her voice at this last confidence. "Hello
Jacob," she shouts with no attempt at hush. "I'm Betsy."

Further up the hill, on a bench just above the next bend in the road, the
figure of Hugh is slumped, head lolling and mouth slightly open - however
Betsy's piping voice doesn't seem to disturb his slumbers.

Megan tilts her head at the girl's comment- now becoming confused because of
her confusion. "Well, you could poke grass up his nose because it was fun?
And because it's making trouble?" Megan sugggests, with an impish grin. As
the tall figure of Jacob approaches, it's now obvious to see that he, and the
girl at the front door are siblings- the same dark freckles dot their cheeks,
they have the same wild hair and most of all- they hold that mischivious
light in their eyes. Jacob looks slightly more serious than his younger
sister and always seems to be sizing things up, pondering.. plotting...

His eyes flick briefly to the girl, and he smiles politely.. "Good evening,
Betsy..." now he looks amusedly to his sister, raising an eyebrow. "New
friend of yours?"

Betsy considers Megan's words. "Maybe I could just tickle his nose with the
grass?" she suggests seriously. "That'd make him sneeze - and if I was behind
him he'd not know it was me," she giggles again. "What's the best sort of
grass to use?" Her bright little eyes dart this way and that, all eager to
try out this new idea, and the hurt knee seems to be quite forgotten about.

"That could work, also.." Megan says seriously, nodding also with a smile. "And
then when he sneezes you could say "Bless you!" and he'd think you hadn't
done it because you said that..." She ponders on her question for a moment,
but it is Jacob who ends up answering in his reserved and serious manner-
"Grass with seeds, or pollen."

"Like this?" Betsy bends down to pick a long stem of feathery-headed grass and
hold it up for inspection. "Shall I go and try it now?" Without waiting for
an answer, she starts to scamper back up the hill, calling a slightly
breathless, "Goodbye Meggan, goodbye Jacob," over her shoulder and sending a
scatter of small stones down behind her. Moments later she's squeezing her
way round the bench, reaching forward and brushing the grass-head against
Hugh's nose ...

*Atchoo!*

A tremendous sneeze resounds round the hill, Hugh's head comes up and his eyes
open groggily, staring straight ahead - down to where Megan and her brother
stand, in fact.

Megan and Jacob nod in satisfaction. "That's perf..." Jacob doesn't get to
finish, as the girl is already gone. "Goodbye.." they both say, watching as
she scampers away. It looks as though the older of the two is about to say
something, before they both turn to look up at the source of the sneeze, and
then the face of Hugh appears in their line of sight.

"Sis... I think we'd better get going, he doesn't look to happy.." Jacob says,
his face remaining calm- though his eyes dance with delight. He extends a
hand to help Megan up, and a moment later they're strolling quickly away from
the smials, laughing quietly.

Hugh's mouth opens - but whatever he was about to say is interrupted by another
tremendous sneeze, and another. Seems Jacob's suggestion has worked all too
well ...

"Why, bless you, granda!" a childish voice pipes up from behind the old man.
"Shall I find you a hanky?" Only Megan and Jacob, perhaps, if they looked
back, would see that the little face is curved in a big big grin.