The saplings shall have my care and nurture, Bethberry said as a parting promise to Lassiël. She then nodded good-bye and looked up to Eärendil, gently caressing the star medallion Strider had presented her with. A fresh fragrance spread over the Glade.
She turned to tidy the Glade of the garbage and dishes from the Picnic and discovered another virtue of Goldberry's washing up. She chuckled.
Thanks, Mum.
[ September 30, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
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