[Aredhel Ar-Feiniel]

“Mary, Mary quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With Silver bells and cockle shells, and Pretty Maids all in a row.” Sang the merry, merry voice of another directionless female who happened at this point of time bound into the party. Her Black hair was covered by a pink bonnet from under which dark eyes glittered.

“No knave stole these Tarts” she mentioned in passing to an elderly hobbit man who was looking hungrily at the plate which she had bought. Tapping her feet along the ground as she walked it was obvious that this girl had had too much sugar. “Hyperactivity is not a bad thing!” she shot at the same old hobbit man who was by now a fair way behind her. This had been a mistake because no sooner had she turned around, she bumped into three more hobbit women which sent her tarts flying to the ground. “Betty Crocker won’t like that now will she?” She muttered dusting herself off and leaving the tarts where they were.

“Could be worse, could be raining” she told the women and kept walking until once again she stopped dead. There was an elf at a table which she knew… “Elfsun!” she cried “It is I the ever so illustriously named Aredhel!... and I have dropped my tarts!”