In the middle of the earth in the land of the Shire, lives a brave little hobbit whom we all admire.

(#00381 - A016)

[AN: This is the second anon prompt from the post that gets you mail]

“With his long wooden pipe, fuzzy woolly toes/ Lives in a hobbit-hole and everybody knows—”

“Must you sing?”

“Yes.” For someone who repeatedly took over a room, Shayde sounded very small, indeed, right now. “Ye ken I dinnae like small rooms.”

Rael rolled his eyes at the universe and only thought, Why me? before he reached out with a sigh to find her trembling hand. “It’s going to be fine. I’m sure the function will be restored to the feet very soon now.”

“Aye, I know…” she was rocking in place. “It doesnae help. Singin’ somethin’ frenetic kinda does, though…”

“Perhaps… something we both actually like and enjoy may help more?” he suggested. If he was going to be stuck into a small room with Shayde and singing, it may as well be music he liked.

“I’m sittin’ here by the girl with the golden hair/ Ruby lips poppin’ gum, an electric stare…”

Rael tried the comms again. Still jammed. All services were overloaded with people trying to communicate about being stuck in the dark and unable to communicate about it.

“At the end of your song,” he announced, “I am going to try an escape into wider areas.”

She kissed his hand between words. Her face was wet with tears. At least, he hoped it was just tears.

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