The Sign of the Prancing Pony by Uvatha the Horseman

The Wolf's Paw

Bob and Nob found their way into the Inn’s kitchens, looking for something to eat.

“Where have you boys been? No matter. I have a chore for you.” Mrs. Butterbur handed each of them a berry basket. “I’m making blackberry tarts and I don’t have any blackberries. Fill these up, and don’t eat them all on the way home.”

They stepped out into the street, each with a basket over his arm. Above their heads, the Prancing Pony sign swung in the slight breeze and squeaked on the bracket hooks.

The blackberry thicket grew on top of Bree-hill, above the town. To reach it, they’d have to go out the gate, go around the outside of the hedge, and up the granite cliff. The route overshot and doubled back, so traveling by it took longer than it needed to.

Bob turned into the first alley they came to, then took the lane that ran along the face of the cliff. Nob was unhappy about the detour. “Are we stopping at your house? I thought we were going to the South Gate.”

“You’ll see,” said Bob.

The lane led to a narrow lane that hugged the face of the cliff. The cliff side was lined with hobbit holes. Not just low houses with round doors so common in Bree, but genuine hobbit holed burrowed into the cliff.

Bob’s house was the last in the row. His parents thought he was too young to live away from home, so every night after work he returned here.

“So what’s the plan? Your Ma has a store of blackberries and we’re going to borrow them?”

“She would still have some, if I hadn’t eaten them,” said Bob.

The Hedge was just beyond Bob’s house. Bob walked up to it. “Let me show you the shortcut through the Hedge.”

“But Bob, the Hedge is supposed to be impenetrable.”

“Yup, they do say that. But that doesn’t mean they’re right.” He dropped to all fours and disappeared into the tangle of thorns.

“Your turn.” Bob’s muffled voice came from inside the Hedge. Reluctantly, Nob followed him into the low tunnel of green branches with the handle of the berry basket in his teeth.

Nob made it through the densely matted shrubbery, which was wider than he was tall. Once he was on the other side, he stood up and brushed himself off.

“How do you like my little shortcut? If we’d taken the ordinary route, we wouldn’t even be through the Gate yet.”

“Do your parents know about it?” ask Nob.

Bob looked proud of himself. “Nobody knows, and hopefully it will stay that way.”

They jumped across the trickle of creek running through the ditch surrounding the Hedge. Bob pointed up the cliff. “The blackberry thicket is up there, at the top of the hill. There’s a path. I’ll show you.”

They climbed the hill. It was so steep that in places, they had to go on all fours.

The brambles grew thickly in a meadow at the edge of the forest. Thorns tore at their clothes, but most had canes were heavy with blackberries. Soon their baskets were full and their mouths were purple.

“Let’s wash up before we head back. There’s a spring in the forest. It feeds a creek, the same one that encircles the Hedge,” said Bob.

“What lives in the forest?” Nob wasn’t so sure about going in.

“We’ll only go in a little way, and we’ll never lose sight of the meadow.”

Bob led the way. Within a hundred paces they came to a spring, a deep pool in a basin of rock. Leaves floated on its surface, and a trickle of water flowed from the lower end.

“See? It’s not far.”

They washed their hands and faces until they presentable, or at least less sticky, although nothing much could be done about the scratches and mosquito bites.

In the mud at the edge of the creek was an enormous paw print.

“Oh oh.” Nob backed away, his eyes wide. “I thought there weren’t any wolves around here. That the last of them were driven out over a hundred years ago.”

Bob came over to look. “Someone up here must own a large dog, a wolfhound or mastiff.”

“I think it was made by a wolf,” said Nob.

“Would you be able to tell a wolf’s print from a dog’s? I wouldn’t.”

It was the middle of the day, but twilight came early in the forest. Whatever happened, Nob did not want to get caught in the forest after dark. It was creepy in the dim light, and it would be easy to get lost.

Nob picked up his basket. “Let’s get out of here.”