You, a skin-changer, great-grandniece of Bjorn, had taken in a ragtag group of travelers one evening along the remote road you lived on. Four of your guests were hobbits and incredibly short to you, as you stood about 6' 11", and you couldn't help but be amused by their height.

"Are you certain you've stopped growing?"

"I'm not likely to grow anymore... except sideways."

You chuckled and ruffled his hair. "I like you. Now- how about some supper?"