Who would the threshold present ot him today? No more vicious bears, the halfling hoped, at least one to join his ranks would be a bonus. Having left the wide open sands of the island with his newly-won key, Pippigrin felt a new-found strength within his chest. He'd won that key! Won it! Not stolen, not had it gifted, he had challenged and triumphed! All you whippersnappers look out; Pippin the mighty, the great, the tall, was coming to get you!
It was with this fantasy that the small boy paddled his wings over the wind current, occasionally making BOOOF and CRASSSHHH noises with his teeth as he kicked his feet mid-flight, battering invisible rivals out of his way.

When the currents took him breezing over the canopy into the threshold, Pippin's fantasy soon came to an end; for the daunting sea of trees below, the hundred-year-old trunks, bark and leaves, were so much greater than he. The hobbit was certain any one of them could reach up and pluck him from the air at any given moment if they so chose, and he'd never be seen again. There was much to be feared about a forest— it was more mighty than a dragon, yet as quiet and calculating as a snake.
Stone eyes raking over the gaps in the canopy, eyeing each glade for a newcomer, It wasn't long at all before Pippigrin caught sight of a perculiar fellow who's wingbeats carried him over the terrain rather than his own legs... how strange. Would he not prefer to fly up here? Oh, but the snagging trees and their reaching branches - now that would be an easy way to put you out of flying for a few days.

"Hay!" Pippin bellowed from above, angling his own pair of wings downwards to swoop into the gap between the forest's roof. Being the minuscule size that he was, he could afford to, and could very easily fit. "I can help ya get through!" he squeaked, wingbeats taking him to a rather large overhanging branch and landing upon it. Using his wings to actually keep him up upon it (because balancing on beams was certainly NOT his strong suit), Pippigrin pressed his weight up an down on the branch as if trying to jump on it like a trampoline.
"LOOK OUT BELOooW!" He hooted, the branch giving an almighty CRACK, another creak, and soon toppling down to the earth beneath.
Pippigrin, however, remained up in the canopy, suspended by his own pair of trusty wings. That should help, or was there any more branches that might need his expert branch removing services?