I am called Rose the Wanderer. As you can see, I am a Hobbit. I am of average height and built for a Hobbit, with long nut brown and soft brown eyes. I confess my eyes are my best feature, though I do get compliments on the freckles on my nose on occasion. Being average in appearance might be strange for a rose. But when it comes to flowers, only those whose eyes are trained to observe the best will truly note the comeliness of the bloom. Besides, having a lovely mind and soul is more valuable than outward attractiveness.
I was named Rose because my parents hoped I would bloom and thrive even in adversity. I am known as the Wanderer because, unlike many of my kind, I am both restless and curious. I seek to see all the world holds. That is why I am a Ranger. It is the only way for me to travel as I wish and still admire and serve the good green earth and all the creatures in it. And to respect nature's ways. Love to read the tale nature gives me. The comings and goings of all its litter wooded inhabitants and the changeable nature of weather. To observe the passage of sun and moon, stars and clouds, remind me that I am just one tiny thing amid such large doings, yet like a single ant, I can do my part by tugging my bit of straw or dirt along.
I do not seek to rule anything but myself, despite what I have been told. But fate is fickle. So I have decided to first learn to rule myself and to serve others and so be ready for anything life will bring. That is all any of us can do, after all.
There is much to do yet, so I will wish you a good day.
A Sentimental Value
Be for I left, I tied this ring around my neck with a bit of twine. It is hidden under my shirt now. It is plain silver and is made to look like a bundle of wheat, tied up. It may seem like a silly bit of junk to you, but to me it holds a world of meaning. And yes, I'll be very happy to tell you about it!
It was given to my mother by my father before they parted for the first time after their wedding. He told her that while she wore it, it can remind her of his faithfulness. And his faith in hers. That he will be back like the harvest. And he was back. Every time, until his death.
I take it to remember them both, and all they taught me. I take it to remember where I came from. And I take it to remind myself that, like this ring, life is a circle. It keeps repeating itself. It had before I was born. It will continue to do so long after my death.
Heather and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I didn't know my parents wanted to keep an eye on me, however! I had no idea when either of them talked with her about helping me or keeping an eye on me in case anything should happen to them until very recently.
It was a shock, to say the least.
We seemed to have similar wishes. We both wanted to see the world and tend the wilds, but in different ways. While I hunted and traveled, she tended to the camp. She liked to work with her hands, cooking the meat I brought and helping me tan the hides. She also dried herbs and was interested in the healing arts.
She has always been like a sister to me and I hope she will find the life she wants. The husband she talks about wanting to meet, the kids she hopes to have. I was never interested in such a life, but I must confess that I wouldn't mind it if I can be aunt to her children, or come back to her home and hearth for rest from my travels, if it ever happens.
She is the calm to my storm. And I am grateful to her.
"Well. I always knew that my recklessness was my biggest fault. I don't know why that ruffians didn't put me out of my misery. I don't know why he and his fellow thugs waylaid us or really anything. I don't know how many I was traveling with are still alive. Don't think they had much use for a stupid little hobbit.
All I know is it was foolish of me to leave town. I was not ready. And now I will never be ready. My only comfort is that soon I will go to my family. That I will never be alone again.
I can feel the last of my strength leaving with the stream of blood from my useless stump where my leg was...if anyone finds this note, break the news gently to my friends. If any would remember me..."
Rose sighed. The makeshift pen slid from her numbed fingers. She was unable to move and had only obeyed some mad impulse to write a last note because she didn't want to die without some kind of goodbye. She didn't even know if the note was readable or not. Still, it was better than doing nothing.
There was nothing left alive around her. The bandits had seen to that. The horses were gone and everyone else was either dead or kidnapped.
She glanced up as a passing shadow flitting by, fearful of what it could be. But it was just the branch of a nearby tree blowing in the wind. She smiled. The tree almost seemed to be saying farewell to the little friend whose short life was spent in tending its kin and the tiny inhabitants who shared the space that made up the forest. Like it wanted her to know her life was not useless.
Feeling oddly comforted, she closed her eyes and drifted off into unconsciousness.