Cedwyn wasn't normally one to leave his den. The leopard had felt the itch to go hunting however, and while out and about he had heard tale of another pride in need. That in mind, the hobbit took the plight to heart, thinking of the young Man'Tah fought to keep warm in the caves - young that they'd fetched pelts for before. It was with that thought in mind that Cedwyn went for the hunt.

Oh, but it was a lovely day to travel and upon informing Thorin he was departing, Cedwyn moved for the plains towards the mountain, laden withsmall jewels to present as a goodwill token and space to carry pelts as well as to carry back any n** or other baubles the pride may find useful, and the hobbit moved along steadily, humming contentedly as he moved towards the location. Birds flew overhead and some animals moved and murmured and he, for his part, Cedwyn felt contented. He collected feathers as he moved, remembering the downy softness and knowing it made good toys for cubs, and paused to eat, or rest, but occasionally he watched prey.

Cedwyn was not a dwarf. By no means weak, the leopard still was a hobbit and not as rowdy as many, but he did chew a grain and he could hunt as well as the dwarven warriors he watched, and the male stretched as he moved, studying prey as he did. Something had to have a good pelt; perhaps not the delicious warthogs, but something. When evening came, however, he settled in a dug-out space, settling to study the plains again, and he sighed sadly - what could he truly give? The hobbit's eyes drifted to the darkness, and then the treasures he bore and he sighed, rolling to his paws and getting up. No, he'd have to hunt.

Some time, however, was not kind to him.

The furs he carried back to his sleeping space were crudely skinned and barely useable, and the male felt disheartened, ears drooping as he curled up in the hollow of the ground to rest and watch the stars. He was frustrated, cold, and tired, and he curled up to sleep for a bit before the sun rose.

The following morning woke him with gentle beams before the piercing light of day shot into his eyes and the leopard rose, resuming his travels with the battered pelts in tow. He wondered if he might try again but decided not - he was far more suited to song and food than skinning, and besides, a crafter may find the pelts to be of some use to someone, the male decided, and he walked at a leisurely pace for days before he dared to approach the mountain. Instinct told him to migrate for the caved, and he ignored it long enough to move for the pridal region, seeking a merchant with a relieved expression.

It would only be a matter of days before he returned to the dens, but at least he helped, and brought gifts as well on behalf of the dwarves, and that made the entire trip worth it.

((FIN - 521 words.))