Robert Lawson, Little Elf, Big Shoe (ND)

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July 16, 2003:

Lovely young woman, chestnut hair, blue blue eyes, upturned gray collar embroidered with patterns like the veins of leaves. Bent in concern over the shivering body of a small person in green, his eyes wide, gasping for breath.

"He's fading," she says, horrified

Gloved hands turn back a stained tunic, revealing an ugly knife wound, clotted, red blood vessels swelling with poison.

"He's not going to last. We must get him to my father."

Every time I watch this scene I can't help thinking, "Steven Tyler knows how to heal wounded Hobbits?"

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