Galadriel watches an arrow fly through the air towards the fan-girl tree. She closes her eyes: she doesn't want to see a fan-girl speared on the end of an arrow. She opens her eyes, relieved to see that it just hit the tree (Galadriel doesn't like blood, you see), though she is rather sorry for the poor tree...
She looks to where the arrow came from and is amazed to see a tiny hobbit with a bow. "wow," she thinks, "that's one sharp-shootin' little hobbit.."
[ May 21, 2002: Message edited by: Galadrie1 ]
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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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