Galadriel, who had never been able to pass up the chance to be in a congo line, shoves the wine bottle back in some pocket on her dress, grabs Thinhyandoiel by the waist, and staggers along in the line, still kind of dizzy, and still not caring about those people shouting about police or something...
in the line, she looks in awe at the really long run-on sentence she just wrote...
__________________
"For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe; though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel."
|