Galadriel hears sirens in the distance. "o *hic* dear.." she moans, and stuffs the wine bottles back in the pocket some where on her dress. she runs to her tree, and climbs up into some of the lower branches...
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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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