The island was an incredibly lonely place. When Bilbo had first arrived, a young human named Lucy had been kind enough to greet him, and offer him food and shelter. As time passed, however, the reality of his situation had started to hit him. Lucy had told him that there was no leaving the island- but what would that mean for him? He wasn't comfortable living in the strange towers with the humans. They were too high, and he didn't like heights in the slightest. Certainly not a relaxing setting for a home.
He didn't understand the human methods of communication. He didn't understand the strange devices that Lucy tried to give him, although she had admitted they baffled her, too. All lights and noises. He'd left them behind- he didn't trust their magic, not when the device seemed to hold a record of his face merely from his touch.
That morning, he packed away his things and slipped out silently. He would need to find something more permanent. Perhaps the island was bigger than Lucy believed it to be- perhaps there were others out there. He had to hold out hope that the dwarves had been dropped somewhere nearby.
He hadn't been on the lookout for long by the time he spotted him- a feeling of absolute joy washed over him, more extreme that he had even anticipated. A smile spread across his face, and he ran the rest of the distance toward the familiar figure with no regard for how the other might feel about his sudden presence.
"Oh, thank goodness- I thought I'd lost you all forever!" he exclaimed, reaching the doorway a little breathlessly.