[Bêthberry]

The woman in the gold tunic-dress noticed that people seemed to be avoiding the Wight despite his pleasant intentions. This was a pity, always to be trailing clouds of doom. She walked over to him jauntily, wiping away what spider webs she could, although they were clingy, and smiled the most beatific smile she could upon him.

Have we met before? I don't recall seeing you in your current state, she said. It wasn't an original line, but it would have to do, seeing as it was fitting.

I beg your pardon? he inquired politely. He was the soul of politeness and patience, it appeared. Or the empty soul?

Well, I mean, you must be a new one. A new Wight. I don't remember you.

Should you? he asked with some curiosity.

Well, I grew up in these parts, right on the edge of the Downs. I used to play hide and seek with the Wights among the standing stones and barrow mounds.

It was the Wight's turn to look incredulous as he was taken a bit aback by this claim. You don't say, he said and then slightly blushed--well, as much as a wight can blush-- at the banality of the line.

Oh indeed, yes. We used to play tricks on the Numenoreans when they came to fell the forest. If it weren't for the Wights, no doubt the Old Forest here would have been lost as most of the others were as well.

This was news to this Wight. He had never quite imagined the Numenoreans in that light before.

And you don't fear the Downs or the Wights? he asked somewhat suspiciously.

Oh no, she answered. You might say death has no dominion over me. She giggled and then smothered a chortle at the line. She had not donne such a bad line in some time--well, at least not since Wednesday. But I do respect them tremendously.

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]