Barrow-Downs Birthday Party at the Fields of Cormallen - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Belin · 05-21-2002, 08:48 AM

An incantation is heard:

Beware! Beware! Her flashing eyes, her floating hair!

...and at the edge of the Fields, a very bedraggled figure struggles up out of the forest, muttering to itself "Oh, screw it, I'll just go now ." It’s Belin Ibaimendi, wild haired and wild eyed, barely able to stand under the weight of the enormous backpack she still wears. Her garb, unfortunately, cannot be described as even remotely "formal" or "Middle-Earth."

"I made it!" she pants. "How late am I? What’s going on? Did anyone miss me? Are there any mushrooms left? ( please please please ) Do I still have a chance of a dance with Stephanos, um, or is that Rimbaud?"

Talking and panting at once, however, is too much for her. Between her breathlessness and the great weight she bears, Belin gets lightheaded for a moment and collapses on the ground, the backpack on top of her. A pair of feet approach (Mithadan’s? Child's? Estelyn's, perhaps? Belin can’t tell; her glasses seem to have fallen off.) She grins upward, undaunted.

"No, fine, I’m fine," she manages to say, attempting unsuccessfully to rise. "Never better but once. Is there anyplace I can change?"

[ May 21, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

05-21-2002, 08:48 AM	#11
Belin Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: all the wide unfriendly pathways of the world Posts: 330	An incantation is heard: Beware! Beware! Her flashing eyes, her floating hair! ...and at the edge of the Fields, a very bedraggled figure struggles up out of the forest, muttering to itself "Oh, screw it, I'll just go now ." It’s Belin Ibaimendi, wild haired and wild eyed, barely able to stand under the weight of the enormous backpack she still wears. Her garb, unfortunately, cannot be described as even remotely "formal" or "Middle-Earth." "I made it!" she pants. "How late am I? What’s going on? Did anyone miss me? Are there any mushrooms left? ( please please please ) Do I still have a chance of a dance with Stephanos, um, or is that Rimbaud?" Talking and panting at once, however, is too much for her. Between her breathlessness and the great weight she bears, Belin gets lightheaded for a moment and collapses on the ground, the backpack on top of her. A pair of feet approach (Mithadan’s? Child's? Estelyn's, perhaps? Belin can’t tell; her glasses seem to have fallen off.) She grins upward, undaunted. "No, fine, I’m fine," she manages to say, attempting unsuccessfully to rise. "Never better but once. Is there anyplace I can change?" [ May 21, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ] __________________ "I hate dignity," cried Scraps, kicking a pebble high in the air and then trying to catch it as it fell. "Half the fools and all the wise folks are dignified, and I'm neither the one nor the other." --L. Frank Baum