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Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever for doing so.
Credit: Tuckborough.net, wikipedia.org
“Hroom, such a hasty folk, these Hobbits,” murmured Treebeard, standing motionless under the archway while his guests slept. Silver rain drip-dripped on his head.
“Small, quick and merry, like springs feeding the Entwash, hmm. So too their tales unfold, tumbling here and there until they meet and flow like river through forest.”
And what a tale they had told, though it merely confirmed suspicions long ago rooted in Treebeard's mind, growing and gnawing like canker.
“Saruman's treachery spreads like a weed, aye!” he rumbled angrily.
Luckily, Treebeard knew just how to deal with weeds …
It was time to be hasty!
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