“I need a hobbit runtime,” she said, breathless. “The old pass is guarded by a troll who only falls asleep for eleven minutes every century. The journey to the pass takes twelve.”
“This is the There and Back Again ,” he said. “Wind it once. For exactly the runtime of a hobbit’s unexpected journey—no more, no less.” hobbit runtime
Bilbo wound it back to zero. Inside, a tiny voice—maybe his own, maybe a memory—whispered: “The road goes ever on… but the runtime? That’s the bit you actually live.” “I need a hobbit runtime,” she said, breathless