For the Good Earth challenge – ‘Marshlands.'
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.
Buried deep inside were memories of marshlands. There had been boats, shallow bottomed; they had rowed in the main channel but stood, and punted, through the reed-filled, sluggish, shallows.
Fish. They had fished with lines, from the boats and the bank, or set nets across the slow moving current. Sometimes they had caught the marsh birds – tasty and plump – and in the spring there had been eggs from nests woven into the reed beds.
You would not want to eat what could be harvested from this marshland. He gazed around, the memories gone… faded. “Thisss way, niiice massster. Follow Sméagol…”