Simulntaneously, and coincidentally, yet another glorious head of hair and rebellious horse were on their way to the White Horse inn. The horse was indignant at having it s tail stolen to make up such a glorious head of hair, since Mythica had no real hair of her own to speak of. At one time her hair had been the pride of Edoras, but those days were long past.
Mythica sighed as she recalled her many years of being a beautiful questing orphan. It was so much more difficult to pull off now that she was no longer beautiful. That fact that she had a large family and no real quest had never seemed to matter as long as she had kept her youthful figure and smooth skin.
Looking back at the spells and elvish incantations she had tried over the years she was surprised that her looks had faded at all. One of those poems was bound to have made her immortally gorgeous. The horse snorted and flicked what was left of his tail in disgust. Mythica shook her wig in sympathy.
The sun was glinting off of her faded elven jeweled gown as she rode up to the inn. The stable was full of horses and all, Mythica's horse noticed, had their tails. Mythica knew that such spirited animals could only belong to other questing orphans.
"Finally," she thought, "some kindred spirits."
[ September 12, 2003: Message edited by: Mythica ]
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