Dawn painted the Shire in soft gold and pink as Peregrin Took wandered a quiet path between fields still heavy with dew. Most hobbits were asleep, but Pippin's restless curiosity had pulled him from bed before sunrise.

Leaning on a stile, he gazed across the hills. The Shire looked unchanged, peaceful as ever, though he knew better. Too much had happened for any of them to return entirely unchanged.

Still, Pippin smiled. He was a Took, after all. Humming to himself, he followed the road toward Hobbiton until a distant figure caught his eye.

“Well,” he said with a grin, already heading their way, “looks like I won't be walking alone this morning after all.”