A flicker of pride touched him at the wisdom of his Marchwarden, even as it clashed with dread. Celeborn stepped around a tree branch, a light touch to the bark in wordless greeting.
"Your judgement is sound. Trust it." Light praise for what was earned. "Where have you heard of its return?"
no subject
"Your judgement is sound. Trust it." Light praise for what was earned. "Where have you heard of its return?"