Yule

As usual Tahitoa had been watching quietly the events around him - he was a hobbit of few words and that suited him just fine, he would stand in a shaded corner, or behind others, smoking his pipe, observing, mentally taking notes, blowing perfect smoke-rings, and of course, protecting his own folk. 

    Her birthday today - an other year had passed in almost an instant or so it seemed to her. Yuletide her favorite time of the year - the time for comfort, good food, and warmth...time for the gentle touch of a loving hand, a talk beside the fire, time for 'home'. Yule was sitting by the hart with her family and friends around her but her mind was miles and miles away.

Sitting in her small wagon in Waymeet, looking at one fresh  rose on the desk, lost in her thoughts and memories, Yule of Shire Rose was not about to change her ways, not even  on this special day.