Another trio of dwarves nearly knocked him over in their hurry past him, paying him no mind. Did they think he was a halfling?! He knew he was small, but not that small. At least he hoped not. His keen eyes noted they all held books. Now that caught the scholar's curiosity.
He pulled the scarf he had over his hair up over his beard over his beard as well, concealing it's bright colour and the more obvious dwarven feature. He used his small, light stature to his advantage and quietly and quickly stalked after the dwarves. They left Bree-town and headed for a village to the North, Millshaw, he believed it was called. He was as quiet as a mouse. Being not a warrior in the slightest, he relied on stealth and cunning to get around and out of trouble.
He followed the dwarves to a farm house. He grumbles softly as the went inside. He lingered outside, foolishly enough. No sooner had he considered what to do next, than the dwarves had exited. Thangtan gasped. The trio were rather shocked to find they were followed without their notice... And were not happy about it.
Thangtan turned to flee, but the more fit dwarves easily overpowered him and caught him. Thangtan struggled feebly as his arms were twisted behind his back and his scarf yanked down. One of the dwarves grumbled, "Had us half convinced ye were a shoe wearing hobbit. You're coming with us. Lord Dem will speak with ye in the mornin'."
Thangtan scowled but went along with them. He knew he could not fight his way out or flee. He accepted his fate... for now.
