he he he's probley drunk again i love that now i can say my line no i was drunk yesterday.)

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(What?)
"It is nothing. Few speak Rohirric outside of Rohan." She stood and stretched. "I think I'll go for a walk..." She decided to head west, towards the faint glow of the setting sun. "Be back in a tick."

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Eleshna wandered through the camp, in search of the possibly drunk Drad... (OOC: *chuckle* should be easy to find...) Her green eyes survayed her surroundings, as she tried to keep a low profile, pulling her hood up over her face.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Drad was drunk as Deawen predidcted he was talking loudly about battles in the past. the men laughed and cheered when the bad guys lost or won.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Eleshna came to a halt when she reached a group of roudy men. She couldn't help but chuckle as Deawen's prediction was clearly correct. Eleshna cleared her throat, then waited to find out who might be Drad.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Drad looked up "who..ar..are you?" he asked sluggishly

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"My name is Eleshna, and you must be Drad, if I am not mistaken." she spoke with a slight smirk but bowed respectfully. "The Lady Deawen sent me to seek you out so you may perhaps find where I might stay. I have just recently been accepted into the ranks..."

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Drads drunkeness faded rather quickly he stood up and bowed back "welcome to the ranks then.what skills do you have ? so i know what unit to put you in."

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(Mother hijacked computer so I couldn't get on . I didn't get to greet a fellow elf!)

Artinwe said, arising, "I think I shall retire to bed. If the sky is falling, Balrogs are overrunning Middle-earth, Morgoth has broken his fetters in Aman, or some such calamity occurs; you can find me in my tent." And with that, he walked to his tent, pushed back the flap, and barely had time to remove his armour and weapons before laying himself down to sleep.

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Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

(Deawen, I have burned your Wicked CD. It looks pretty, if I do say so myself.)

Morwen was so excited to be out again that she was shaking, though part of that was the brisk night air. (This is what happens to me at LOTR and Harry Potter premiers in movie theatres) Her teeth chattered, and she crossed her arms to try and keep warm. Eohric was surely in Minas Tirith by now, if not following the DT. Speak of which, she thought as she saw his silver horse galloping towards her in the deep twilight. "Ic cunnanna acsian hwa ge hige. Ic cannanna efne beon hatheart. It beon gelic ge(I can't ask what you thought. I can't even be angry. It is just like you.)" Morwen smiled and bid him come back with her to the little fire to talk with Artinwe and Deawen.

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

he he

Deawen listened to the others talk.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(Guys, I'm not having much fun snoring [do elves snore?], so if someone could stumble over me in the dark or something... or Deawen, you could come to bed, fair consort. IOW, could something PLEASE happen?

_________________
Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

(well i know you don't snore Artinwe...but as for elves who knows....)

Deawen stretched "well Morwen i think i will retire.."
(but iam retired...take a nap and than fire zee MISSILES!)
Deawen stood up and walk carefully to Artiwes tent. she saw he was already asleep she dressed for bed and then crawled into bed.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"I see they didn't see you, Eohric," smiled Morwen to her husband. "Hmm. Well, alright. I think that I should continue on to Ithilien, just for the sake of telling them you will be a bit late for dinner. I'll wait for you there. Just, Morwen..." "Yes?" she asked. "Don't take too long. Honestly, in your condition..." "Shhhhh! No one has to know right now, alright. Only two know, and I would prefer to keep it that way." "Alright then. Westu Hal, mic lufu."

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Deawen dreamed she was in a strange palace with open corridors and silks lining the corridors thin sheer of many colors hanging in the open arches of marble. Deawen walked down them observing the richness of it the smell of spices and insence. the feel of the fabrics soft and silky to the touch and slightly warm and cold at the same time. the air was steamy but the stone was cool. it was dream but it seemed so real so real it seemed fimilar.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(Deawen it's "but I am le tired"; Morwen, is "mic lufu" "my love" in the Old English? Actually Darci's been greeting me with "my love" in Geometry every day. Also, where are you getting these Old English thingies?)

_________________
Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....