[ Little, elf-child seeming and thin for his kind, Frodo's slight height over his familiars and kin has never left him anything to glance twice to. Even brandishing Sting, which he rarely had mind to touch, he stood very low when it came to being threatening at all. So, near eye level with a large dog, just under four feet, it was easy to see why he would be intimidated.
Of course, poor Frodo of the Shire, he could rarely come across a beast anymore without it being one in want of his flesh and blood. He was lucky to find a man-standing creature who did not also want the same.
So, Frodo looks to the dog, then Lightning, knowing not who or what she was, and draws a breath. An apology utters out beneath it when he lets it go; something about not meaning any disturbances, very sorry. ]
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Of course, poor Frodo of the Shire, he could rarely come across a beast anymore without it being one in want of his flesh and blood. He was lucky to find a man-standing creature who did not also want the same.
So, Frodo looks to the dog, then Lightning, knowing not who or what she was, and draws a breath. An apology utters out beneath it when he lets it go; something about not meaning any disturbances, very sorry. ]