Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
It was strange, the old Thain mused, the thoughts that came into one’s head in the small hours of the morning when everyone else slept.
Tonight he wondered what someone would have made of their tracks, all those years ago. Two sets with leather soles, one patched; one set smaller with hobnails; the hardly-there imprint of soft elven boots; and four pairs of hobbit feet (if the someone could distinguish between hobbit footprints) and… And whatever Gandalf had worn on his feet.
Now what footwear had the old wizard worn?
Still considering this puzzle, Thain Pippin drifted back to sleep.