“Let’s see. Fire lighin’ stone, fresh han’kerchief, bits o’ cheese, bread…”
Sam hovered over his knapsack stowing a bountiful cargo while ticking off items in his head.
“Water bottle. Needle ‘n’ thread. Couple o’ candle stubs.”
Brow furrowed with concentration, he weighed each item against available space and possible need. Some were discarded, only to be grabbed a moment later to fill a forgotten corner or pocket.
In the doorway an impatient figure loomed. “Get moving lad, we’re walking to Tuckborough not them wilds of Harad Master Bilbo talks of!”
Hefting the brimming pack Samwise grinned finally satisfied.