Subject: Re: the medtcationms

From: "Rhianon Doss" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 16 May 2006 22:46:46 -0700

http://www.beenteol.com

	----- Original Message ----- 
	a descendant in long line of Girion, Lord of Dale, whose wife
and child
	had escaped down the Running River from the ruin long ago. Now
he shot
	with a great yew bow, till all his arrows but one were spent.
The flames
	were near him. His companions were leaving him. He bent his bow
for the
	last time. Suddenly out of the dark something fluttered to his
shoulder.
	He started-but it was only an old thrush. Unafraid it perched by
his ear
	and it brought him news. Marvelling he found he could understand
its
	tongue, for he was of the race of Dale.
	Wait! Wait! it said to him. The moon is rising. Look for the
	hollow of the left breast as he flies and turns above you! And
while
	Bard paused in wonder it told him of tidings up in the Mountain
and of
	all that it had heard. Then Bard drew his bow-string to his ear.
The
	dragon was circling back, flying low, and as he came the moon
rose above
	the eastern shore and silvered his great wings.
	Arrow! said the bowman. Black arrow! I have saved you to the
last.
	You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had
you from