Sam turned and gazed behind him. The bells of a few cows in a distant pasture carried faintly over the windblown grass.
“Is anything wrong, Sam?” asked Frodo as he joined him on the small rise.
“No, jus' lookin' behind, Mister Frodo. Wonderin' if'n it will look like this when we return.”
“Of course it will, Sam, although it’ll be cold. We’ll be back by Yule if all goes well. Those cows will have their long winter coats, but they’ll still be grazing peacefully.”
A cold shiver ran up Sam's spine. Shaking his head he turned, leaving the Shire behind.