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Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst.
Hurry! Hurry!
Where are we going?
Why did you look?
Why do you always have to look?
- I don't know. I can't help it. - You never can.
I'm sorry, all right?
- I won't do it again. - Don't you understand?
The enemy thinks you have the Ring.
He's going to be looking for you, Pip. They have to get you out of here.
And you...? You're coming with me?
Merry?
Come on.
How far is Minas Tirith?
Three days' ride, as the Nazgul flies.
And you better hope we don't have one of those on our tail.
Here.
Something for the road.
The last of the Longbottom Leaf.
I know you've run out. You smoke too much, Pippin.
But... But we'll see each other soon.
- Won't we? - I don't know.
I don't know what's going to happen.
- Merry. - Run, Shadowfax.
Show us the meaning of haste.
Merry!
Merry!
He's always followed me...
everywhere I went...
since before we were tweens.
I would get him into the worst sort of trouble...
but I was always there to get him out.
Now he's gone.
Just like Frodo and Sam.
One thing I have learned about Hobbits:
They're a most hardy folk.
Foolhardy, maybe. He's a Took.