(Birdie stirs grumpily by the fire.)
"By the One, Elfling! She's outside talking up a likely Hobbit lad! Sit down and have some wine!" She then muttered to herself, not for the first time, "Elves!"
Bird then settled herself more comfortably into her chair. The fire was warm, the wine was VERY good, and Holly could take care of herself.
As for Rangers, Birdie had little care in the matter. She knew very well that these cloaked wanderers had the ears and councils of people more lofty then her. If Rangers were about, then trouble was brewing. And the common folk of Middle Earth could just hope to get out of the way.
But first, another glass of mulled wine!
By the third glass, Birdie had reach that sweet, melancholy state that was just perfect for the place and time. Idly she watched the flames and sang a song to herself:
"If I danced with my feet
As I dance in my dreaming,
As grateful and gleaming as Death in disguise -
Oh! That would be sweet,
But then would I hunger
To be ten years younger,
Or wedded, or wise?"
[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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