Shirriff Hob Hayward was just easing his backside into a comfortable chair in the mess hall when Second Watcher Heathstraw threw open the door and stuck his head in. Hob jumped, startled. What now? My daughter's supposed to meet me here. I'm tired and hungry, I just wanna...
"Trouble at the Pony," Heathstraw said tersely. "We need help."
Today, I missed Second Breakfast, and then Afternoon Tea. I'm going to waste away, I am. Hob stood back up, trying to focus on the situation at hand. "Oh, no. Orcs again? What..."
"No," Heathstraw said, waving over a couple of other men and Hobbits who were hastily abandoning their suppers.
"Those accursed Blackwolds again? Trolls? Do we need to call the fire brigade?"
"Worse than that. Drunk girls."
"Ah, dammit."
-By Gina
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