The folk of Bree-land rarely visit the Chetwood that much, and most of those who do, like the hunters and trappers that Hildegund meets during her wanderings and scouting journeys, don't pay much attention to the small lodge that the Woodmen had built. It was easy for Heriwulf to think that it was somehow hidden, but of course, it was in plain sight to anyone who happened to cross the woods from the west, or the marshes from the south, or the hills from the northeast. Most likely those trappers would not bother to visit the lodge, though. There's not much business for a trapper there, and any curiosity, or unseemly ideas about theft, would be quickly discouraged by the hounds, particularly Brenn and Dalgo, that patrol around the lodge.
So it was a surprise when, just as the clan was gathering for its second moot, there was a knock at the door. At first Heriwulf wondered if Ljota was the one knocking, perhaps because her hands were full, or just because she could be surprisingly timid (for a skinchanger, especially). The man that appeared, though, was a slight surprise. A big grizzled-looking man with a bigger sword; had he met this fellow in the Vales Heriwulf would expect him to be one of the men who'd joined with Grimbeorn to watch the fords. He introduced himself as Andrass, a man of Gondor -- or perhaps a Ranger, though he was cagey about that -- who was out hunting orcs, or being hunted by orcs, or both, and who needed shelter for the night.
Well, the last thing the Woodmen needed was someone bringing orcs to their door when they were so few and still getting settled in. Once the hounds were on alert, the visitor claimed that the orcs were nowhere nearby, and he just needed a place to rest. Lucky of him to arrive just as Eiragerd was layout out supper. Lucky for Heriwulf, too, since this man, cocksure and sometimes long-winded, took some of the ire Faron usually saved for Heriwulf.
Only some, though. Faron didn't spare him her cutting words and angry glances. He'd been wracking his brain to figure out why she loathed him so. Had he done something to anger her? Perhaps it was the times he'd asked for permissions to breed her two albino hounds -- or perhaps better to call them wolves, as she had not tamed them in the same ways as those that Radagast had taught the Woodmen, but instead, found them as pups and raised them herself -- and she was very firmly unwilling. He had been surprised by this and a bit angered -- their blood would strengthen the pack and thus be good for the whole clan -- and though he'd tried to keep the anger to himself, perhaps she'd sensed it and taken umbrage. Or maybe she had refused because she already hated him before that, for some slight he wasn't even aware of. Though he hadn't noticed her dislike until during the journey over the mountains, but perhaps that was only because he hadn't had much business with her until then.
Or maybe it was just how she was. No one else seemed to get nearly so much of her ire as he did, but then again, most of those who'd come over the mountains were women; perhaps it was men that she saved her anger for? This visitor certainly earned his share. But then, he earned it; he rubbed everyone the wrong way. He almost refused to leave his sword in the entrance hall, but Heriwulf insisted, as if that were the custom, mostly to test the man's intent, and he finally relented after being given assurance the sword would be waiting safely for him. And then he spent almost the entire moot telling the clan about all the horrific dangers surrounding them in all directions. Not surprising; he's probably used to speaking to people who are frightened of their shadows at night, and certainly had no idea the clan had fought tooth and nail against the Shadow within Mirkwood their entire lives. Even so, it rankled, as did most of the rest of his over-eager advice.
It is fortunate that there was little clan business to discuss, since he took up most of the moot. Hildegund was working on learning the scratchings so we could read Radagast's message, and Aelfrida had made good progress on building shelters for the hounds. Discussion of ways to make good neighbors of the village-folk nearby, and to get some of the pennies they use for trade, were inconclusive, save that it was decided breeding hound pups to sell was a poor idea. Aelfrida means to inquire about selling her services on doing building and repairs, and Hildegund will trade some of what her traps catch. No one dared asked Faron about whether she might be willing to trade any of her hunt. There was some talk of who might get the pups Brunan would be birthing in a couple of months (Ljota will get first pick, and Hildegund might take a larger one to help carry things, as the clan didn't decide about the idea of trading for an ox for the job, perhaps because the discussion was pushed aside by an insult Faron wanted to make about Heriwulf, though he never figured out what it actually was). And Hildegund had an idea of where wolves might be found for taming, which the pack sorely needed. About all Heriwulf could offer to contribute was trying to spend more time in the villages to learn more about what the rest could trade.
All through this, Andrass warned the clan of the danger of turtles in the north, and spiders in the hidden reaches of the woods, and orcs in the marshes, and the vengeful dead in barrows somewhere far west, and all manner of other things in essentially all directions, all dangers he himself bravely faced regularly but which our clan should be wary of. Perhaps that the clan did not quail in terror is part of why, after a bit of supper, despite having come seeking a place to pass the night, he took his leave. The moot ended soon after, though not without Faron expressing her disgust at Heriwulf with one more particularly keen-edged and hurtful dig.
The moot left Heriwulf with nothing but questions. What was in Radagast's message? Why did Faron hate him so, and could he ever do anything about it? Would it ever become a liability for the clan if he couldn't? How could he, with his very particular skills, do his share for the clan, when everyone else had something that could be used for trade with the neighbors but he alone did not? Could the clan, or whatever it should be called when it was only a small group and had no chieftain, continue to operate without leadership, or would a leader have to arise, and would Faron (or anyone else for that matter) accept any leader that did? Would they ever return to the Vales? Did he even still want to?
