Disclaimer: I do not own Drizzt Do'Urden . . . but that does not exactly stop me from wanting to own him.
Drizzt Do'Urden limped through the forest, feeling as though old age had fallen upon him like the weight of a thousand orcs. The only good in this situation was that it was night and the discomfort of a shining sun did not hurt his light sensitive eyes. Wincing he walked silently, his muscles aching. Normally he had incredibly good luck. He could no longer count the times he should have been dead.
Now was definitely one of those times. After battling five giants he knew he should have died. Instead five giants were stone dead on a mountain side and the only injury Drizzt had suffered was a painful fall down a cliff into thorny brambles. It still hurt as though the nine hells were hosting a violent drinking party in all his limbs. He had injures in places he would have never revealed to companions . . . if he had any at the moment. If Mooshie were still alive as he was last winter the blind ranger would have laughed and said, "I don't even need to see those thorns to know they're stuck all over you in places you'd rather not want to mention."
Drizzt, giving a sigh, stumbled into a clearing and looked to the sky. The moon was so bright it hurt his sensitive lavender eyes. Shielding his gaze with a hand he felt something crunch underneath his boot. He looked down and beheld a head of lettuce. Rows of vegetables were spread out before him. In the distance loomed a large farm house.
Immediately his first instinct was to flee from the farm as fast as he could. But his stomach, growling so loudly it sounded as though a great beast were stalking him, kept him still and staring hungrily down at the fresh display of nourishment.
The young drow reached down, all his muscles protesting, to pick up a carrot. Brushing dirt off it he bit into it, crunching, the flavor of the orange vegetable a blessing after several long days of old stale bread.
There was a growl and he knew instinctively that it was certainly not his stomach this time.
Drizzt turned around slowly, the carrot still held in one hand. A large hound stood a few feet away among the corn stalks, his stance tense, lips pulled back from his teeth as he growled threateningly. Drizzt stared back at the animal and whistled quietly. The hound's ears perked up and it stopped growling instantly, tail wagging as it panted. The old hound walked forwards on long shaky legs and closed its eyes slightly with happy pleasure as the drow scratched him behind the ear and whispered quiet words melodically under his breath.
Old farmer James looked down at his vegetable garden, shaking his head shaggy white head, large brimmed hat flopping. "Little rabbits," he said angrily. "Steelin' me crops." He looked at his old hound dog. "What were you doin' the whole time, you mutt?" he asked. "Watchin' the bunnies eat me carrots?" The dog's tail thumped on the ground and the farmer laughed. "Well then, I'll jus' have to set up some traps."
Drizzt woke slowly and opened his eyes to gaze up at the ceiling of his small cave. The sound of crickets and his innate sense of time told him it was night. Wincing he sat up. The night before, after he consumed a mountain of fresh vegetables, he had bathed in a stream, washing off his blood while also extracting several sharp thorns from embarrassing places. Drizzt stood up, pulling on his cloak, and limped out of his small cave into the night. Normally the honorable drow would have never lowered himself to stealing a farmer's crops. However he could barely fit an arrow in his bow with his battered fingers, so hunting for food was out of the question. He also could not find any other edible foliage in the area. Once he recovered he would leave this farm. But for now he knew he would have to be an unwelcome guest. Drizzt was selective about how much food he took from the garden now that his hunger had abated a bit.
It was then that Drizzt caught sight of large metal bear traps glittering in the night throughout the garden. He picked up a stick and set off the traps one by one. There were ten in all, and he had to wonder what exactly the owner of this garden thought was stealing his vegetables.
Back in his cave the dark elf concocted a meal of lettuce, stewed carrots and tomatoes. Before he feasted he clasped his hands together and bowed his head, long snow white strands of hair falling over his forehead. "Thank you, unknown farmer, for this feast. May it speed my recovery so I no longer must steal from your bounty." He commenced his dinner, shifting uncomfortably where he sat on his still aching rump.
"Damn blasted rabbit! It's smart!" The farmer looked at all his traps. Each one had closed without one single rabbit's foot in its clutches. Farmer James mused in silence, scratching his head. He'd have to be more cunning to capture this thief.
Drizzt blinked, surprised, at the odd sight. In the middle of the field was a man-like figure hanging from a wooden pole. He had seen these scarecrows before in fields. He had to chuckle at the sight of it, for most of these scarecrows never exactly did their job. He had once seen a field full of crows while a scarecrow stood among them, ineffective and—
Drizzt's eyes widened in horror and he took a quick step backwards, hands reaching instinctively for his scimitars when the inanimate scarecrow suddenly moved and snored loudly. "Stupid rabbit!" it mumbled. "I'll get you this time, ye mangy animal."
Drizzt, watching unbelieving, saw the scarecrow fall back to sleep. "The farmer," Drizzt mused. Quietly, lest he wake the man, he swiped some green beans and crept away.
Farmer James sat sulking while his wife scolded him loudly that morning. "Stupid, stupid man!" she berated, shaking her grizzled finger in front of his face. "Stupid! You tied yerself up on a pole all night, it's no wonder you'd end up with a chill in the mornin'! And all because of a rabbit! Are you even certain it's a rabbit?"
"It's something been eating me crops," he said, blowing his red nose in his handkerchief. "I want to find out."
"What did you see then?' she asked.
"Nothin'. I fells asleep."
"Honestly! Ye fell asleep?! If you're so concerned go huntin' for it! Its burrow can't be that far away."
Drizzt was woken from his afternoon nap by his own sixth sense. Sitting up, his lavender eyes pierced through the darkness of his cave to stare at the small amount of daylight at its entrance. Someone was moving about outside, and whoever it was did not make much of an effort to keep quiet. "Gods blast it," said a voice. "These brambles. These twigs."
Drizzt immediately recognized the voice of the farmer. He glanced at his scimitars, leaning against the cave wall, but thought against using them. From his memory of last night he had seen that the farmer was old and harmless . . . then again Mooshie had been old as well and he had not exactly been defenseless. Despite his silent musings Drizzt slipped his cowl over his face and walked out into the sunlight, leaving his weapons behind.
Farmer James cursed, his floppy hat caught on some branches. He pulled and pulled but only managed to do more damage to the straw. "Stupid hat!" he whined, tugging. "Stupid tree, let go of me hat!"
"May I help you?" said a melodic voice.
The old farmer turned his head about and peered with old eyes at a cloaked figure walking towards him. "Who is there?"
"I am but a traveler passing through," said the voice. "Do you need assistance?"
"I believe I do, since me hat is caught in this dang blasted tree."
The cloaked figure made a noise that sounded like a small chuckle and dark hands reached forwards to pull the hat carefully out of the clutches of the branches. The clocked figure gave the hat back to the old man. Farmer James sighed with relief, smiling, and smacked his hat clean with a hand. "Thank you, young man. What be yer name?"
"No. It is Drizzt."
"Oh. Odd name, that. You look out for yourself, Drizzt. Dangerous animals lurk about here. Especially the rabbits."
"Rabbits?" Drizzt asked, a white eyebrow raised under the hood of his cloak.
The old farmer nodded his shaggy head and continued on his way. "Never trust them bunnies. They'll steal all your food and then some to satisfy themselves. It was nice meetin' ye. I must be on my way now." The farmer scampered off and Drizzt watched him leave with a small smile gracing his angular dark face.
Old farmer James stared at his vegetable garden, hands shaking. His eyes were wide. There on the ground was a large stack of gold coins. Beside it was a piece of parchment. He reached down and picked up the parchment, squinting to peer at the words written on it in neat handwriting.
Here is some gold for your troubles and for your vegetables.
The old farmer smiled. "What a polite little rabbit," he said fondly.