Balamor removed a plum from his bag, soft spots showed it would be rotten soon. He didn't bother worrying about it, his boredom was giving him an appetite. A juicy bite of the fruit distracted him from the dread of the forest. He thought about his small village as he consumed his snack. He didn't miss the Raehl, but he did miss his family. Days passed since the last time he seen a hobbit. His time outside the Raehl offered him nothing but dangerous encounters with bandits and the company of a rather strange Dwarf.
In fact, strange wasn't even scratching the surface. Awkid Anvorbeard was far from Dwarves Balamor read about. He carried no weapons. He wore only basic clothes and boots. And of course he had his curse, and Balamor knew the two men Mayn and Bear were looking for it — the arm of the Avennoth.
He dropped the pit of the red plum on the ground as he finished his thoughts. He looked up to see another golden tree was only yards away. Awkid looked back and motioned to Balamor,
"Check your map."
Balamor unrolled the map and ran his finger into the blank spot,
"According to our travel by these trees... We should have made it to the Mog Brush by now..."
"Then it's just ahead. Let's go while we still have daylight." Awkid replied before he began waking.
He made only a few steps when something cracked against his head. A small chuckle let out behind him. He rubbed the sting with his palm and turned around with fire in his eyes. Balamor was looking at his map still trying to figure out where they were.
"You do that one more time hobbit, and you won't make it out of this forest."
"Do what?" Balamor looked up in confusion.
Awkid pointed down at the broken acorn that struck him,
Balamor contested, "That wasn't me! Something is going on here Mr. Anvorbeard... We are being watched."