In nights more deep and dark than ours
The woods danced still under the stars,
With scent of lilies in the wind,
On rhythm of hooves of stag and hind,
Sheer darkness,trembling of delight
Caressed all life and held it tight.

Mysterious and sweeter still
Was each embrace and air was chill
Like marble and like velvet moss
Under the stary silver gloss.
Before the Moon governed the night,
Before the Sun commenced his ride,

The Wondrous Case of the Westfarthing Wings

(Being a copy of the official report on file in the Westfarthing Shirriff-House, sent as a letter delivered by direct eagle-post and retained in the archives at Torech Besruth in Falalthlorn) 

THE IVY BUSH, HOBBITON, Westfarthing in the Shire, 1 Yule:

Zav lay face buried in the dried grass, water gurgling and sloshing in the near distance as a cold wind blew around his bare feet. His body was aching and he knew he had to get up and return to camp fast to clean out his cuts and wounds to prevent worse. The rest of the group was moving scattered close by, confused and disoriented as he was. One moment the burial chamber they had been lured to was closed off from the outside, the next he had lost his footing, falling scrambling towards the ragged outline of the stony chamber wall.

00 - Always a stranger,  1/2

„Ma, look at this! Look!“ The boy was holding a snake by the tail.