[ He rummages a bit more, cursing under his breath, and looks up at Hawke. ]
Most that it's just what's always been done, sir. I'm not sure I've the right of how it started being that way.
[ Of course, Sam knew well that it goes beyond simple tradition. He looks back into his bag, shuffling his things around as he speaks; ] We Hobbits is rather given to giving gifts, if you follow my meanin'. Most how it's done at home with them Big Folk is they're given gifts by everyone else... [ He cuts himself off, peers into his bag, and tugs something, before continuing, ] I like better to give gifts then have 'em, myself. Few better ways to spend my birthday then makin' others happy, I should think.
[ He searches for a little bit longer, and pulls out some spare clothing. He looks inside with careful eyes. ] Ah! [ Sam reaches in and gingerly pulls something free. He steps back from his pack with a shoulder-bag; something of a large size, patched and stitched and cleaned to the best of Samwise's ability. The strap has clearly been replaced by an old, leather belt, and Sam's added some cloth padding to the shoulder. He dusts off the bag and looks to Hawke sheepishly. ]
I'd might beg your pardon, Mister Hawke. It's... not all so impressive...
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-04-29 04:34 pm (UTC)Most that it's just what's always been done, sir. I'm not sure I've the right of how it started being that way.
[ Of course, Sam knew well that it goes beyond simple tradition. He looks back into his bag, shuffling his things around as he speaks; ] We Hobbits is rather given to giving gifts, if you follow my meanin'. Most how it's done at home with them Big Folk is they're given gifts by everyone else... [ He cuts himself off, peers into his bag, and tugs something, before continuing, ] I like better to give gifts then have 'em, myself. Few better ways to spend my birthday then makin' others happy, I should think.
[ He searches for a little bit longer, and pulls out some spare clothing. He looks inside with careful eyes. ] Ah! [ Sam reaches in and gingerly pulls something free. He steps back from his pack with a shoulder-bag; something of a large size, patched and stitched and cleaned to the best of Samwise's ability. The strap has clearly been replaced by an old, leather belt, and Sam's added some cloth padding to the shoulder. He dusts off the bag and looks to Hawke sheepishly. ]
I'd might beg your pardon, Mister Hawke. It's... not all so impressive...