The sun was rising in the sleepy town of Bree, horses were stamping in the stables and cockerels were crying as first light lit up the streets. Despite the sun in the sky, most of Bree was still sleeping apart from the watchers that shuffled sleepily along the muddy cobbles and the gate-keepers that were opening up the gates for they were closed at night.
Gently the door of the inn creaked open, smoke from pipeweed and fire alike emerged out above the hooded head of the ranger. His mud caked leather boots scraped along the stone as he moved down the stone steps, nodding to Nob who was feeding ponies before he approached. His dark green hood was still over the top of his head as he spoke out, in a deep weathered voice.
"Take care of that horse, Little Master. I will return for him when I do.", a gloved hand rose from behind his cloak and pointed to a rough haired-brown horse that was grazing upon the green grass.
"Y-yes Mister Rambler..", said the hobbit who was pale in the face and quickly rushed off back into the inn to tell Butterbur about this.
Down the street he walked slowly, the only noise apart from animals was his boots walking and his arrows rattling in his quiver. Straight out of the gate he walked, following the path that led him into the Chetwood before he turned off the path as he pushed away the branches and stepped over rocks that risked to trip him up. The sun was now high in the sky, and heat was being thrown down upon him which made him sweat underneath the heavy hood.
Trekking on he did not stop until he found a small clearing, with a mossy rock and a fallen log being reclaimed by nature. Planting himself down on upon the log, he pulled out his waterskin and took a few gulps, along with eating some bread before he moved off again and soon the ground turned marshy and wet under his boots. He did not waste time and he made his way through the tall reeds, over paths that were seldom tread and were barely visible if it was not for the long marshy grass stamped down where boots have made their way through.
Neek-breek! Breek-neek! Neek!, was the only other noise that he heard through the buzzing of gnats that crawled up his sleeves and down his collar. Despite the sun had now disappeared to the west, the flying nuisances would not leave him alone as he settled down by an old rotting tree, sleeping with his cloak pulled above his head.
The never ending maze of reeds stretched on as the sun rose the next day, and a chilled breeze was blowing from the East straight into his face. His boots tread on, getting even muddier as they walked for another whole day through gnats, reeds and marshland. He soon came to a steep incline, and climbed upon to look ahead at the harsh barren lands that lay before him.
