Bethberry looked at Birdie with a twinkle in her eye, but there was a solemn frown on her forehead and she sighed slightly, as she stored her vials in her bag again and packed some of the herbs she had found earlier that day.
You are younger than I thought, Birdie, or perhaps that bump to your head is serious, if you give way to such notions. There are more relationships in Aman and Arda than are dreamt of by romantic young girls.
I am Bethberry, a herbalist, taught the ways of forests by Iarwain, my father, and the lore of the seasons by my mother, Goldberry. I seek her song throughout all of Middle Earth. Gandalf has been a friend of my family since, well, since he came to Middle Earth. Our paths have often crossed.
I'll leave others here to talk around the fire. I am weary from the battle. Good night.
Bethberry unrolled her blanket and made a bed for herself amidst the ferns and mosses and was soon asleep.
[ June 30, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
|