Galadriel stands up on the tree-branch that she's sitting on. "hey," she says, thinking out loud, "this is a birthday party!!!. happy birthday, barrowdowns!!!" she sighs, having used up the last of her energy. she sits back down on the branch, and closes her eyes. "I'll....wake up...sometime.." she mumbles, and falls into a deep sleep...
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"For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe; though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel."
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