Resident Grump & Farmer
Older than dirt
His family farm in the Westfarthing
Matzo enters the comfort of his burrow, just finished with his work in the fields. His short, grey hair is an untidy pile piled above a full, heavily-lined face. His pale, green eyes look tired but satisfied after the day's labour. Despite the state of his clothing, he takes care to clean the earth from his feet before entering his pristine dwelling.
He smiles to himself as he catches sight of his many nieces gathered 'round the hearth, the children he has sworn to protect for so long. Most of them are grown lasses now, he reminds himself. A sharp twang of regret cuts through him as he thinks about his dear sister (their mother)...but only for a moment. A pity she isn't here to see them now, he thinks. I'll do right by them, even if I wasn't able to for my Rosie.
His reverie is broken as a rumble from his stomach brings him back to the present. He licks his lips eagerly and rubs his belly (that has grown rather round in his old age), as he disappears into the larder to fetch his supper.
Suddenly the quiet is broken by a dreadful roaring, and a red-faced, snarling hobbit emerges from the pantry, unrecognizable as the gentle gaffer from before.
"Miralith!? Nonette!? WHEATBERRY!!!! Where are my pies, you little HOOLIGANS???!!!"
NONE (or so he thinks).
Weeds, noise, laughter, joy....
A warm pie, peace & quiet
Earn back the family's good name, keep his nieces in line