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Celeritas' Birthday Bash 2013  by Celeritas

It was cold, bitter cold.  Bilbo pulled his jacket around him tighter.  It wouldn’t do to chatter his teeth—wolves had keen ears.

They had taken three whole sheep this time, but the snow on the ground turned to his advantage.  It was simple enough to follow the blood on the snow—too simple, for the best tracker in the Shire.  Now all he had to do was scout out the wolf den, and then creep back and alert the others—(if there had been any others, Bilbo allowed himself to think with a sulky pout)—so they could attack the den.  No matter.  The others would be there when they were needed.  He just needed to make sure he didn’t get caught—his scent was downwind, so as long as he didn’t make much noise… He crept forward under the shrubbery, to get a better glimpse of the scene ahead.  There it was—the head wolf, standing guard.  Over what, though?  He edged forward a little more…

“Ouch!”  Stupid thorns!  He’d been spotted.  The wolf advanced, turned on him, and—

His aunt gave him a stern look.  “Bilbo Baggins!  Were you playing at the Fell Winter again?  In my rosebushes?”

“No…”





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