"And my great-great-uncle Hedwig said that there were Yetis wherever it snowed so we never went anywere near the mountains... or anywhere else... But I don't think that was just to avoid Yetis!" --

"Well yes, you see Hobbits like me live in the hills and we haven't moved anywhere since the Doon. I used to live on top of a hill with all my brothers and sisters and my ma and da, my grandpas and mas and great ones too!"--

"I once found this frog and I called it Fish! Yap, he was green. Mrs. Ampere what do you think about frogs? I like them because they can jump sooooOooOo high!"--

"My cousin Boefer told me that the trees can hear you when you talk, so maybe you shouldn't mutter as much Mr. Volterra Sir in case they hear you and get offended?" --

♫ "*Ohh misty eye of the mountainnnn beloooOowwww....." ♫

This was a most brief snippet of Pippigrin's endless chatter on the journey to the Basin. He was most excited, having never actually seen snow before (unless it was far away on a mountain's peak). Reciting many hobbity tales and numerous jokes, as well as no short amount of songs, Pippigrin was quite in his element, choosing to flit between the party on-foot and the winged party above, all giving them something to listen to for the long journey. Whether they wanted to listen to it or not had been no concern of his, and it had not once crossed his mind.

The halfling walked beside the indomitable when snow first came into view; proper snow, the kind that was actually reachable and not a thousand miles away on distant ridges.
"Mr Volterra!" The hobbit had cried, storming ahead to place his hooves in the alien white powder. "Snow!" He announced.

It was as they progressed, that the ear-chewing chatter ceased. Nervousness and tension grew within the air, and as the half-sized stag walked he could just about hear his footsteps echoing back to him. Taking his place to the left of his Sultan and Sultana, Pippigrin fluffed his wings and keenly gazed outwards, searching for any signs of life.
The first to emerge was a woman he recognised and knew. She was a rude one, that was the extent of his knowledge besides the fact that she hailed from this snowy abode. Having met Weaver in the threshold, Pippigrins brow furrowed ever-so-slightly at meeting the woman again - he could recall their first enounter quite clearly and the patronizing sourness she had spoken to him with.
"This one's nasty... I know her" Pip whispered to Volterra, his words audible only to the goliath.
Soon the fog presented another. This time it was a darker fellow, one who reminded the hobbit of both the Sultan and Sultana combined. Erebos, a general. He seemed nice enough, though so had Mrs. Weaver only moment's ago, and he had got a very different picture in the threshold only a few weeks back.