*
Right as the first arrow was released, there was a sharp sound much like the breaking of glass, and the arrows fell down to the ground, Matrix style, as if they had lost all kinetic energy as the kinetic energy had been transformed into multiple types of energy, combined with friction and air pressure, such as heat energy, sound energy, perhaps potential energy, and following the Law of Conservation, saying that energy is never created or destroyed, I hereby declare this a run on sentence. Well, for the more normal race of my readers, it basically means the arrows stop.
Bella: What the-?
The elves' grins faded when the voice reappeared. It did not sound to happy.
MV: My goodness! I leave to put the kettle on the stove for five minutes and already you few try to behead each other? Thats it, the Lord of the Rings people are leaving. Say your goodbyes, *snigger* now.
Eowyn practically went insane when she heard that, whining at the top of her voice, stamping around the room in an angry rage. Faramir was desperately trying to calm her, to little or no avail.
Eowyn: *Stamping her foot like a child* I do NOT want to go home! It isn't FUN in Gondor! Faramir just sits there with all his important papers, and I CAN'T go and CHOP off some orc! The white city is SO boring!
Faramir: Eowyn dear, don't worry, what do you want? Diamonds? Gold? A pet? *Points to Skipper, while the big otter descends on him with his bow*, erm er, scratch that part dear, *Backing away from Skip* What about a new house? A horse? A visit to Rivendell?
Eowyn: *Throws a punch at Faramir*
In her raging fit, he threw her dagger with deadly force across the room, successfully shaving another part of Mellus' headfur off, which resulted in a badger with a mohawk pinned to the wall. Skipper decided that he was going to ignore that fact, joining Dandin in a sniggering contest while the mother badger was rendered helpless.
Mariel braved enough to move to the head of the LotR members, prodding Elrond and Thranduil with her paw.
Mariel: Prod.
Elrond: What?
Mariel: Prod.
Thranduil: What?
Mariel: Prod prod.
Thranduil and Elrond: WHAT?
Mariel: Do you people say anything besides what?
Thranduil: We would if you would stop prodding us!
Mariel: Stop prodding? Why? Prod.
Dandin: *Coming over, trying to ease off Mariel's curiosity for human beings* Lets go, shall w--
Mariel: *Absent mindedly swinging her Gullwhacker behind her, taking Dandin inbetween the eyes*
Abbot Mordalfus had actually managed to wrangle, erm, sensible conversation with Glorfindel, and a pile of books had magically appeared in front of the blond haired elf lord and the ageing mouse abbot.
Mordalfus: So what are your people like?
Glorfindel: We have so many cultures and *blahdiblah diblah blah blah di blah blah* Here, why not take this: Archive 253966923560 Book number 3750357027027602397, Histories of Middle Earth, or Archive 27501571037601276012762076907, book number 37015710276027603276297607290769276, the Tales of the Elves?
Mordalfus: I think I shall! Why don't you take my Historian Record 15707609724907890809, about Redwall Abbey, or Record 99997620999999999999999999, of Mossflower and Salamandastron?
Arven was having a very interesting time, having somehow managed to get his pot over Legolas' head, and was now banging it with a wooden spoon, sending the elf howling. Sensitive ears were not always a good thing. Tansy was desperately trying to peel him off, only to be whacked between the ears with the spoon.
Interesting how the races intermingle...