Pippin threaded the rope around the tree, making sure the ponies had enough length to graze, then returned to the campfire. Although it was winter, there was a fog in the valley now, most likely from being so close to Rivendell. It had been warmer in the Elven city.
He sat next to Merry and leaned forward to look at the tiny girl cradled in his cousin's arms. Ivy was half asleep, her mouth no longer trying to suckle at the bottle her father held to her lips. Pippin sighed. A baby! This was certainly going to be an adventure!