Forest Sprite Frodo

Somewhere between the pages of an old book and the deep shade of a fern thicket lives a small creature with the most extraordinary blue eyes. A round head, branching antlers, a green cloak — and a chain with something golden glinting at the end.

The forest sprite who goes by the name of Frodo is good-natured, curious, a little dreamy. He loves warm evenings in his burrow beneath the roots of an old oak, the joy of second breakfast, and long conversations about nothing in particular. The most seemingly harmless creature in the forest.

But there is one peculiar thing about him. Every time the forest shadows begin to thicken, when a cold wind breathes down from the north and the branches start whispering something uneasy to one another — he closes his little paws around the chain and looks out into the distance. His gaze becomes serious. Not frightened — serious. The kind of look that belongs to someone who has already made a decision, though he does not yet know its full cost.

They say it is the Ring. A small golden ring on a chain, which he carries with him always. Where it came from — Frodo does not say. Only sometimes, when he thinks no one is watching, he takes it out and studies it for a long while. Then tucks it away again, pulls his green cloak a little tighter, and sets off once more — through the forest, over the mountains, somewhere very far and very important.

Those who have encountered him in the forest all say the same thing: he always moves forward. Even when he is afraid. Especially when he is afraid.

He never walks alone — there are always loyal companions nearby. But it is Frodo who carries what others cannot. Small, quiet, with blue eyes and a golden ring on a chain — he knows the burden cannot be shared. It can only be borne.

Good-natured and brave, he will make the very best companion on any journey. Even the longest one.