[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Bent and muttering to herself, Hilde wound her way around the hills, shuffling along as fast as her aching legs would carry her. "If there's any dancing to be had, you've gone and missed it, old girl! No Springle Rings for you this year! Not that your old carcass would oblige you none." Spying a patch of brave wildflowers along the way, the hobbit scooped them up hurriedly, not wanting to come to the party completely unprepared. And as she a rounded a low mound, she came upon a familiar group gathered about on the high green hillside just below the characteristic black and green door, the well worn entrance to the Barrow-wight's domain.

With fond smile, Hilde hitched up her skirt a little, before trudging up the hill exclaiming "A garden party, is it? What, is the old wight still renovating then? And May already! Who would have believed the Downs celebrating its 8th! Time flies don't it...especially when you been trying to enjoy the fine fresh air in those woods", she rambled, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to the west. A hobbit goes looking for some ramps, or mercy, to find some of those wild mushrooms to bring to a party, and the next thing you know she don't know which end is up and she meets the strangest of all people." Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Bethberry's smile, which in her amusement looks the perfect copy of her father's. "Oh hallo Miss Bethberry! Please excuse me, its just that he does have a habit of startling folks. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he launched into that fine poetry of his, not even four feet behind me this morning. Something about orcs, it was. But I couldn't quite make out what exactly he was on about." And smiling sheepishly, Hilde moved off to the trestle tables, nodding at the others assembled as she lifted the lids of the pizza boxes to find only the discarded crusts inside. Sighing, she gently took the empty crock out of Rumil's hand, and stuffed it full of the flowers she had brought, placing the arrangement squarely in the center of the table, before stacking the old pizza boxes in a tower at the end. Her stomach grumbling loudly, she wiped her hands off on her skirt.

“Since the weather is so fine for it today, perhaps we should build us a proper bonfire? Maybe throw in a few potatoes? Ah, but where to get the wood, eh?” With that she opened a pizza box and taking out lonely remnant, that greatly resembled an over sized nail trimming, she began gingerly gnawing on the end of the stale bit of crust as she looked thoughtfully at the box wondering how many pizza boxes it whould take to cook a potato.