The rain subsided the next day, for which the traveler was glad. The wet and cold of the previous day had been uncomfortable, and were it not for Kitten's fire-building abilities he would have been in far worse shape for it. He slid on his crisply-dried clothing and followed the girl back to the main road.
Kitten also had a knack for foraging up food as they went. Just as he asked how much jerky was left in her bag to gauge the necessity of hunting, she spotted a lone blueberry bush on the grasslands. He stood back and watched her as she plucked as many fat round globules as she could stuff in her bag, after which she handed him a cupped palm full.
He rarely took pleasure in food, but the sweetness of the fruit burst in his mouth satisfactorily.
The bear followed them onto the main road, which made the traveler tense. He wondered what passersby would think when they saw it bounding along behind them, but the road remained oddly empty that day despite the fine weather and bright sun.
The girl spoke more of her childhood and family as they trod on. It seemed her family lived remotely, as she talked of having little contact with other villagers or children. That would explain some of her awkwardness, and her intense curiosity about the world, but still not how she managed to wander this far without being touched by maliciousness.
The road opened wide to the Brandywine Bridge by afternoon, and the girl quickened her steps at the sight.
They found the river to be a golden brown colour, and thus true to its name as a heady ale. The traveler paused to watched it slowly flow to places unknown to him, but Kitten seemed eager to finally set foot within the Shire.
The bear had wandered off.
The pair found the land, like its people, to be plush and abundant. Though the Shirefolk looked askance at the ratty man and the pretty girl by his side, they seemed too well mannered to treat them poorly, and indeed to their loss. Kitten spied an unattended farmer's stall with heaping piles of carrots, and after the traveler followed her gaze and knew her mind, he carefully crept behind view of the milling villagers to abscond with a packful.
The skies turned amber and before the remains of the sun's light fled, they found a small grove of trees next to fallow farmland in which to bed down for the night, feasting on sweet carrots and pipe-weed.
