"Oooo!!! A PARTY!!" Eowyn Skywalker screamed, because she hadn't realized that there was a party going on, and she loved parties as much as food, and tormenting Luke Skywalker.
The elvish, hobbitish, humanish girl jumped around. "Happy birthday, Barrow-wight!" she shouted, as she felt the need to make herself heard. After screaming delightedly, she entered into the party scene, and made herself at home around the food, one destinctly hobbit personality, though she was quite human.
After eating some food (she never ate too much...), she pulled out her gift to the Barrow-wight, a shiny medal pole, complements of the Middle-earthian conspiritors of the purple dye, and left it (nicely wrapped) on the table by the barrow-- a rather creepy place, in her opinion. And how did a barrow get to the Shire? Eowyn Skywalker wondered, but gave up on wondering. It was, after all, a party. And that could explain everything, including the twisted canon.
She decided to look around to see if there was anyone that she knew in the whereabouts, as, being a party, there should've been a few people that she knew.. or knew of.
Eowyn looked around, but there was no sign of squeaky hammers, medal poles, purple dye, garlic (for which she was grateful, though she herself was known for the garlic at times), or anything else that she recognized, though she thought she knew one female, an Elbereth Varda, but she wasn't too sure. She was not that well known around those of the squeaky hammers.
Ah well, Eowyn Skywalker sighed. There was only one way to figure out if she knew this one. She straightened her cloak, and went over to talk to the blue-clothed female that may've been of Rivendell.
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