Galadriel, still spinning, sees some oliphaunts out of the corner of her eye. "oh, neat-o!" she exclaims, earning her a few odd glances from a group of hobbits. She stops spinning, and falls over because she is soooo dizzy. she holds her wine bottle close to her, making sure it doesn't get broken. "it'll be alright," she whispers softly to the bottle...
far off, she hears some one yell something about police, but she's too dizzy to stand up..
[ May 20, 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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