[Child of the 7th Age]

The child rode to the edge of the glade. Her blonde curls bounced against her back as she raced her pony as fast as she dared. She was a human child, about thirteen years of age, and evidently from a family of some repute. Her gown was made of the finest silk. Her green eyes widened with mirth as she saw the pennants waving, and the tables filled with food.

She cocked her head behind her shoulder to see if her nursemaid had caught up with her yet. A small hobbit called out to the girl, "Pearl, your mother will kill me if I lose you! So hold in those reins until I can ride beside you." Cami bumped and thumped up and down on her small grey cob, the wicker basket with its invitation banging against the pony's withers.

Pearl's laughter rang out like a bell, "Mistress Cami, I promise not to run away. Only I was so excited to see all these fine folk. For we've ridden long and far from the coast of Lindon to come to this party today."

Then she dismounted and looked about in wonder at the Elves, and Dwarves, and hobbit kin who filled the glade to overflowing.