The next morning, the rain returned with a vengeance. He thought the previous clear, sunny day was a cruel tease now, as he found himself completely sodden and cold yet again.
His cloak held up against the downpour as well as a could be expected, considering its tattered condition, which is to say that mostly it clung very heavily around his body from absorbing excess water.
Kitten, true to form, was unperturbed by the discomfort and was happy to continue on.
Despite the unforgiving shower, she repeatedly referenced an old map of the area that she had procured from... somewhere. He had learned not to question her acquisitions, or, really, most anything else. He often found her logic hard to understand, and so it was immensely easier to simply accept her machinations and expect things to go awry.
She seemed excited though, as they neared the destination she had chosen, and he had to admit that her enthusiastic smile was just nearly enough of a reward for having dragged him out into the rainstorm.
Just nearly.
She brought them to what looked like a farm.
That had long been overrun by bandits.
Heavily armed bandits.
Scores of them.
They continued on, Kitten's smile gone.
She remained unusually grim after they left the farm-come-criminal stronghold, and now she just seemed content to follow the road without referencing her map. The grey of the skies soon began to turns shades deeper, and they kept eyes out for potential campsites.
Eventually they came upon another, larger farm along the road whose house showed signs of still being in possession of its rightful owner. They hopped the fencing and rounded the back of the barn, keeping out of sight of the farmer. Kitten spied a covered structure set apart from both the barn and the farmer's house and quickly ran inside.
The traveler followed her closely and found himself in paradise.
Pipe-weed. The structure was filled with racks of drying pipe-weed. He was bowled over by the delicious aroma floating in the light wet breeze, and at once was exceedingly thankful for the hardworking hobbits who grew the wondrous leaves and the fertile green lands of the Shire which brought the remarkable plants to life.
And he was thankful for Kitten too. But she was far less enthused about their discovery.
That night, after he hung his soggy clothing over the rafters and smoked his fill of that luscious leaf, he climbed beneath the drying racks and slept as deeply as he could ever recall.
