"Bird! Bird! Bird!" whooped Gamba, and the four little hobbits cheered and hooted, jumping up and down in their prospective laps, til the elves' eyes bugged and several more "oofs and ows" were heard.
"I know about Mirkwood because--" Roka began.
"Not another word!" Gamba ordered, and Roka clammed up. No further coaxing from Firondoiel could get any information out of theboy, or any of the others. But they pelted the elves with questions about their hair and clothes and jewellry, and how come Bethberry was so pretty, and why there were wolves backstage.
"And when I grow up, I'm going to be an elf, " Roka announced.
"Where is Bird, anyway?" Gamba muttered. "Probably in sombody's collar. I wish she'd turn into a dragon just one more time."
"Dragon?" Arafangwen said, startled.
"Flagon. She, ah, sometimes disguises herself as a bottle of wine," Gamba hastily said.
"That would be dangerous around here, " Firondoiel replied with a meaningful glance at Squatter, Lush, and HerenIstarion.
"You said Dragon, I heard you," Arafangwen insisted.
Gamba changed the subject. "Hey, look at that. A Chicken!"
[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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