Rowan had been on her way to speak to Bethberry, who she now realizes is in charge of the picnic after the poet’s sudden recognition of the lady, when the man is suddenly stabbed by the Wight’s blade during the reading of his latest composition. The hobbit lass is too shocked to speak or move and simply stares with wide eyes at the corpse on the ground. To her greater horror, a ghostly form begins to rise from the body.
“A Perilous Play-Wight!” she hears a voice shriek. The hobbit does not need any further reasons not to remain staring in astonishment; she turns on her heel and dashes away as fast as her little feet can carry her, the dishes in her basket rattling as she goes. Unfortunately, she fails to see the fox in her way, trips over his body, and lands on the grassy turf next to him.
“Ouch,” she grumbles, momentarily forgetting her fright as she sits up and examines the damage done to her elbows and knees. “Ahem,” a voice says next to her. Rowan turns to see a rather annoyed-looking fox lying on the ground, his food spilled on the grass. The hobbit gasps and reddens with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, pushing herself off the ground and helping the fox up.
[ September 24, 2002: Message edited by: ElanorGamgee ]
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Soli Deo Gloria
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