Week Forty- Five (Sept 21 - Sept 26) Topic: Dwarf
Winner: Della
The Life of a Dwarf
By Della
Roan gazed, satisfied and full, across the lush green landscape; his eyes skated across misty blue mountains and broad trunk trees and rushing streams with sweet cold water that made your teeth chatter. He looked out on the comforting scene of this town, secluded in its coven, sheltered from the terrors of The Outside, by thick thorny bracket and small dirt passageways--short length wise, while wide in width, comfortable enough for only a dwarf or a small child-hobbit to crawl through.
His eyes past over the little dwarf girlies and the little dwarf boys, who played with sticks and stones and played their games of Kirken--a childish game with sticks and a small woven basket that Roan had never been very good at as a child.
His town provided a protected sense of comfort to all who lived there--probably a false comfort, but none of the terrible beasts that raged in The Outside had the patience or motivation to deal with dwarves.
For the most part, they were fairly likeable creatures; short and stout, with round bellies, who enjoyed feasting and laughter, mead and merriment. More than anything, however, they enjoyed a good hearty meal and to then to sit in heavy-lidded peace and smoke their pipes, breathing in the heavy-laden summer air of honeysuckle and cut grass.
Dwarves disliked any other season but summer; spring was often too soggy and damp, winter much too cold and it snowed a bit too much for the dwarves taste--they hate the cold--and fall was when all the leaves fell and turned a ugly brown color.
When the weather was less than pleasant, particularly during winter, the dwarves--including Roan--would simply retreat to their humble yet comfortably furnished abodes in the hill side. They were small dirt tunnels--but hardly dirty--which you could get quite easily lost in if you didn’t know where you were going.
At every turn there were tiny little homes which consisted each of the following hobbit necessities: a wood-burning stove, key for making food and keeping their homes warm. There was always an overstuffed arm chair for proper pipe-smoking and dozing after supper, and a small bed made of soft goose feathers and silk sheets, of which the silk worms made the dwarves each winter as a peace offering.
Dwarves keep mostly to themselves and are mostly wary of outsiders. Their only weakness is their penchant for jewels, gold, and shiny beautiful things. More than once or twice, the occasional creature or critter will pay dearly with gold or diamonds to stay in one of the comfortable dirt rooms for a few days while they are passing through.
Yes, Roan thought, being a dwarf is quite plesant.
He’d been always quite lazy, which hadn’t really mean a problem--all dwarves are lazy--but something in his gut had always wished he’d traveled a bit farther into The Outside. But what was he to do about it now? He was withered and gray, aging nicely for a dwarf of a hundred and six five years.
More from Della: http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/2366...
More from this contest: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/2134...
