[piosenniel]

The music stops abruptly and whirling springle-ring dancers crash into one another, falling down like children in a ring-around-the-roses game,laughing.

A stern look, and one raised eyebrow from Mithadan, bring the hobbits and piosenniel back to their senses, just in time to see The Barrow Wight step out onto the field. 'Oh! It's Himself!', cries one of the younger hobbits, hopping up to get a better view.'

'What's He saying?', whispers piosenniel to the hobbit. 'Something important and profound?!'

'Powerful,' I should think whispers one of the other hobbits. 'I think I just heard Him incant *OFF TOPIC!* followed by a large plume of oily smoke!'

'Ooh!' cries piosenniel, clapping her hands together and shivering with excitement. 'Do you think it's his preamble to the fireworks? I love fireworks!'

'Are you sure you're not half-Hobbit, miss? You love to dance and you love fireworks!' says the young Hobbit, glancing at the elf's feet, as if they might suddenly have sprouted a thick crop of Hobbit hair.

'Well, now, there is a old family story about a fair elven maiden and her dalliance with a certain Meriadoc Brandybuck - could be true, could be true!', she says laughingly and winks at the questioner.

There is a pause in the speechifying, as some wights shovel off the errant reporter(who now joins the party as the newest of the Newly Dead)and piosenniel takes the opportunity to look about for Daniel Telcontar who has boasted of his ability to outlast her in a dance or two or three. But where is he? She forgot to ask what he would be wearing, and the crowd is growing by leaps and bounds . . .

[ May 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]