I showed up after the start of the scene. No set. ;)


Toldo takes Wilbert's hand gratefully, with a scornful glance towards Tanna. He attempts to brush himself down, but just succeeds in wiping slimy mud all over his front. "Thak you sir" he says looking up at Wilbert. He begins to look around frantically, for the paper parcel he has dropped. He sees it half-buried in mud, and goes to pick it up, but before he does a well-meaning woman picks up the parcel and places it on the cart. Toldo runs to the cart and begins to rummage through the various things in it.


The dwarf notices Toldo looking through his things, and shouts "Hey, you there, what do you think you are doing?" He strides towards Toldo who turns around in terror, being much shorter than the dwarf, and in no state to put up much of a fight.


A wince appears upon Tanna's face as she watches Toldo spread the mud down his shirt, her hands folding together in front of her as she recoils a bit. "Oh my. What a dirty little folk," she murmurs to herself as she watches through narrowed eye slits. She lowers her hands to her cloak and dress, picking up the lower half of her garments so they don't drag in the mud, and takes a careful leap over the puddle the hobbit had fallen into. Her facial features are all in a scrunch, fearing the same fall that had been taken just earlier. The commotion with the dwarf catches her eye again as she glares toward the crowd, especially Toldo, and she begins to take slow long strides closer to them. As the small woman makes herself nearer, she lets out an accusation, "A thief is what he is! Get your hands out of there!" She makes her command from afar, hands placed upon her hips.


After heaving Toldo out of the mud, Wilbert pauses to watch him begin looking. "Wonder what that could have been," the little man asks himself, taking a look at Tanna and shaking his hand free of mud. Though dissatisfied at the poor soap that the cool spring air and rain make, Wilbert's attention eventually drifts toward the scene at the cart and he takes a few steps toward it to hear better. "Rotten dwarves," he murmurs, just barely loud enough to be heard. And then again, even softer, "Confounded locals."

"Miss Whitethorne," commands the small man sharply. "I don't think our muddy little friend here was trying to rob anyone. Obviously he's in plain sight, especially yours, and who would think they could escape from that?"'


As spring wears on, the days grow progressively warmer.. though not by much. Despite the continual downpour, Tathar has apparently decided it is warm enough now, for as well as leaving her shoes behind, she has abandoned her cloak. Ankle deep in muddy water, she wades down the center of the street with her face turned up to the dripping grey sky and her eyes half-shut. Her faded dress is plastered to her thin figure, dark curly hair that limp and straggly clings to the soggy material.

Only just barely has she avoided running into several people, and when the call of 'thief' rings out, she stops mere inches from an interested onlooker. Her eyes snap open. "Oh! Hello there," she calls cheerfully to Toldo. "Is your cold better?" Wilbert receives one cold glare and then the girl ignores him.


"Do do ba'ab, I'b doe thief, I'b a guard, I'd dever be doig doe thievig." Toldo says, panicking as the dwarf glares down at him. "I berely dropped by stuff I just got frob the barket, ad I was od by way hobe if you follow be sir, subwod put it id your cart ad I was just lookig for it sir if you follw be? I beant doe offedce sir!" Toldo is almost in tears, feeling the accusing eyes of all the gathered throng on him.

He sees Tathar, and for a moment smiles and sniffs, but his attention quickly goes back to the grumpy dwarf.


The dwarf looks at Wilbert, frowning, and turns up his nose at the short man, returning his glare to Toldo. Hearing his explanation the dwarf backs of a little, but keeps his guard up saying, "The sooner I'm out of this town of Yokels, the better, now find your little half-pint stuff and show it to me, I want no tricks do you hear?" He gives a fierce look to the locals, some of whom walk off in disgust.


"Him, of course!" Tanna responds with a scowl at the hobbit, though her words only trail off into silence as she stares in shock at the sopping girl. Her eyes widen at Tathar's state and just as it seems they might not open any farther, they do as she catches sight of the bare feet. It is a strangled choke or squeal that is emitted from her lips as she raises a finger to point at her. "You... you're practically /drowning/. What do you think you're doing out here without your shoes and cloak?" Another choking sound is sputtered as she jabs her finger again, this time towards Toldo. "And you're /sick/! Sick!" she states with a huff. Though she manages another moment of a nagging glance at him and then a glare at dwarf, her attention is fully upon the girl again as her expression turns into one of more annoyance.


The diminutive Mr. Thistlewool is quick to jump to Toldo's defense. "Though he may sound like he's speaking a foreign tongue," he tries to explain, frowning at the guard, "He's quite harmless. And I'd not call us yokels, speaking as one who dwells in the mountains far from any other life." And his eyes stop on a squarish package, covered in mud like the rest of them. The man's hand snatches it and he holds it up for Toldo: "Is this your box?"


Tathar shoulders closer to Toldo, dark eyes falling on the dwarf and lingering there, fascinated. "Did he steal something?" she says to the hobbit in what she probably supposes to be a whisper. It is lower than her normal speaking voice. A little. "Are you going to arrest him?"

Black eyebrows pinch together and Tathar scowls at the officious woman. "You're not my mother," she says mutinously. "And I'm not either drowning. It's spring," she adds. "I don't need my shoes anymore." And she turns back towards Toldo and Wilbert, sharp gaze going from one to the other to the box and back to the hobbit. "Is that what he took?" she asks curiously.


Toldo sneezes and sniffs, looking mournfully at the package and nods, looking at the dwarf with an 'I told you so' look, and he opens the package. Inside is a crushed and soaked through loaf of bread, three broken and muddied carrots, a small bruised apple, and (worst of all for poor Toldo) a punnet of fresh mushrooms, now crushed into small pieces, and covered in mud. He sniffs again, but not from the cold. "There you go sir!" He says accusingly to the dwarf, showing him the package. He absentmindedly rips off a piece of bread and chews on it, but quickly spits it out saying "Its all ruid, oh I hate this raid." His look of dismay turns to one of resentment, and then to anger. He looks at Wilbert. "How did you cub to have this? I was carryig it, thed I dropped it, ad dext thig I dow, you have it! You took it did't you?" Toldo is getting quite angry, despite his cold and miserable state.


The dwarf, now satisfied nods to Toldo and picks up the last of his things. "I'm sorry if I said anything that I oughtn't to you small sir, now I'll be on my way, if I can get this blasted wheel out." He walks over to the nearest house, and pulls the gate off its hinges, and lays it in the mud, underneath the stuck wheel. He heaves his cart over it, and slowly makes his way down the hill. As he leaves, he gives another glare to Wilbert.


"I haven't taken anything," replies the older man to Tathar. "I was just trying to give this box back to the hobbit, here, since it slipped from his hands." Looking down at the muddy box, muddy hands, muddy cart, and muddy crowd, Wilbert's face begins to fall in confusion, perhaps disbelief of his own words. Could the oft-used title apply now?

"I haven't taken your silly package. Why would I want whatever you've got in here?"


Peering closely at the little man, Tanna crosses her arms. "What's that now? Taking something that isn't yours, Mr. Thistlewool? Never would have expected it!" With a sideways glance to the hobbit, she adds, "Indeed. I saw him take it. Now what would he be doing with it?" Eying Wilbert even more, she pokes her nose over so she can get a better look at the items within the package and immediately wrinkles up her facial features. "What's /that/? Why go through so much trouble for beaten down things like that?" She decides to tear her gaze away from the sight for a moment to send a condescending glare to Tathar, making sure to say, "And when I do find your mother, you'll be very sorry! And when you get sick, just like this little hobbit here, you'll feel even worse!"


And from such accusations, is there naught to do but flee? The little man turns and begins to walk away, saying behind him, "I haven't stolen anything. Let no one say that Wilbert Thistlewool is a man who takes others' goods, for he has plenty of his own!" And he tries to push his way through the gathering crowd and chaos.


"I do't dow, why do't you tell be....us?" Toldo corrects the me to us, trying to enlist the support of the crowd. "This was perfectly good food udtil you got to it Bister Thistlewool!" Toldo's little mind has gained momentum and keeps on going..."Ad it was you who tripped be so I'd drop it id the first place I'll warrat! You're dought but a liar ad a thief, thats what you are Bister Thistelwool! What is it bister Gaudt calls you? Buddle-Braids is't it?" He strides up to Wilbert, but not close enough to accentuate the height difference. His hands are placed firmly on his hips. He sneezes again, but tries not to let it get in the way of his important attitude.


The scowl disfiguring the girl's face grows blacker. "It was his dinner, probably!" she snaps at Tanna. "What do you care for anyways? I don't see you helping!" The threat of her mother widens Tathar's eyes for a second and then she wrinkles up her small freckled nose and sticks her tongue out.

"I didn't say you did take it." The girl turns and tries to explain. "I thought they said that dwarf with the cart took it." But Wilbert is leaving and Toldo following him, all a-bristle. For a minute surprise erases all other emotions; it is quickly replaced by intense interest. And she is only a pace behind Toldo, peering over his head at Wilbert. "You really did take it?"


...for the man, still holding a package most certainly not his own, finds his way blocked by the only cart trying to force its way through the mud and rain at this moment. With a pony coming toward him and, though unaware, a guard behind him, Wilbert takes a chance and darts in front of the oncoming wagon, barely making it across in time. "Wretched fools," he complains to himself. "Can't a man step outside his own house without running into them?"


At first, the healer looks as though she might tear out Tathar's tongue at the sight of it poking out at her, but the sound of the mangled title draws a muffled snicker from Tanna. She manages to compose herself afterwards to tag along right after the group, though somewhat slower with her caution for the puddles. "Mr. Thistlewool! What would your /wife/ think of you as a /thief/!"


But hearing only the word thief! in the distance, Wilbert continues walking, ducking under the eaves to avoid getting soaked any further than he is already.


Toldo says, harshly, and not willing to be defeated, "Dow sir, rebebmber I ab a Guard of Bree, so do't walk away whed I'b tryig to talk to you!" He is getting quite angry. "Did you or did you dot attebpt to steal by package? Hm?"


Tathar's eyes widen still further at this proof of Wilbert's wickedness. "Why he just took off with it," she says indignantly. Rain runs down her neck, drips from the hem of her sodden dress and soaks further into the already soggy ground. "Hey!" she shouts suddenly. "Come back with that!"


"I haven't tried to steal anything. Did I not tell you that already?" Face reddening in frustration, Wilbert inches away from the guard. "I'm perfectly aware that you're a guard, but I haven't taken anything of yours," protests the little man. Or could it be denial?


"I'll have Mrs. Thistlewool know about this," Tanna mutters under her breath as she too continues to follow. Louder, she adds, "Mr. Thistlewool! If you're lying..." Of course, it's not /her/ package but she makes sure to stick herself into the situation anyway. "Will I have to tell your wife about this?" she asks in an exasperated tone, trudging her way through the rain and sidestepping another townswoman in her path.


"I'b afraid Bister Thistlewool," Toldo begins proudly, "that udless you cad cub up with subthig better thad that, I'b goig to have to take you back to the Headquarters. Dow, all these people saw you, ad I saw you, tryig to take BY thigs, so you'd better owd up quick."


The so-called thief gives a despairing look to Tanna. "Miss Whitethorne, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. My wife knows quite well that I'm an honest man, and I wouldn't have you telling her otherwise.

"You can take me all the way to the guard-house but you'll still find nothing on me!" Wilbert exclaims. "I am sick of hearing such things." Yet he does not resist the though. "Maybe there I'll be left in peace and I can find someone who isn't so confused as you, sir." Without another word, he begins walking, as if arrested already, toward the West Gate.


"Now Bister. Thistlewool, you'll have to do better thad that." He approaches Wilbert and candidly pats all the pockets he can reach. Finding nothing he hrmphs and says "Dow if you'll cub with be?". He takes a small length of rope out of his pocket, and looks meaningfully at Wilbert's wrists.


Wilbert holds out his hands. "Take me away, and we'll see that the rest of the guard hasn't been smoking the wrong kind of weed!"


"Ohhhh," says Tathar, glee dancing in her face and voice. "Put him in jail!" And determined not to miss one minute of an event that has enlivened the day enormously, she splashes along after the others, greedy eyes taking in every detail.


"Pah!" the short healer scoffs at the accused's response. However much she might have wanted to see her version of justice done seems to be forgotten for a while as she notes the rope being held and a frown appears upon her lips. "I don't know if you'll have to tie him like a /pig/, of course." With Tathar's splashing, the glare comes back to her eyes as she whips her head around to regard the girl. "You're getting mud on my cloak. Do stop that."


Toldo skillfully ties the rope around Wilbert's wrists, with a knot used commonly in the Shire for hauling barrels of pipeweed. He turns his nose up at Wilbert's comment, and begins to drag Wilbert away by the wrists through the streets. He has trouble negotiating the muddy puddles with a man in tow, and is attracting a lot of attention, a hobbit leading a man. He gives one last look back at the crowd, and then turns and walks down towards the headquarters.


"Keep your cloak out of my way," mutters Tathar under her breath. "I can't help it if it's wet and muddy out." But she does try to wade a little more discretely, at least until she realizes that this is causing her to fall behind. Whereupon she breaks into a sploshy sort of trot until she catches up with Toldo again.