In Fair Company--
Pippin didn't really know when he'd fallen asleep, but when he woke, he found the sun up and his fire long-since cold, and Whitenose perfectly content to sleep in. It took less time than he might have predicted to get on his way. Knowing his preference for frequent meals and long breaks for each, he'd planned a leisurely journey, but now he found himself unwilling to dally. He never dismounted for second breakfast, took barely half an hour for lunch, and encouraged his pony to trot whenever the path seemed clear. At this rate, he suspected he'd get to Minas Tirith at least a half-day early.
Whitenose snuffled at him and shook his mane, no doubt protesting Pippin's un-hobbitlike haste. Pippin laughed.
"You'd think you were half Entish," he told the pony. "Or expected me to be. Spend all day standing in the woods looking at the trees if you had your way."
"Is it his fault his rider is in such a hurry?"
Pippin tensed and reined Whitenose in, reaching for his sword.