I've lost count of the exact years that I've lived. Time does not flow the same for Elves or Men, so that in one hundred years of the Sun a decade will have passed for us, more or less. It's a season.
Men are new to the world, in my understanding. But three lives of Men have passed since we extended our hands to Men when they came from the darkness. We gave mortals civilization and now live beside each other, as time allows. Such as our existence is. You change and we .. do not.
I've never permitted myself to become overly attached to mortal existence. You all pass so quickly that in one hundred years I'll not remember names alone, but knowledge gained from those experiences. There are few individuals from the century past whose faces I recall with any clarity.
But the point then, is that this isn't home and the mortals in this place are not those we've brought from the darkness and into the light. Being here does not give my kinsmen nor I the right nor reason to enforce our laws, our teachings, or our governance on the land. We're merely visitors.
Say you their actions involve me. Tch. That my rights are being denied. I'm not human, and I don't live by your standards or your laws. In half a century most of you will be dead and the world will change again. That's the nature of men.
Kill this body. Kill it a thousand times. I will be reborn, and this world will still crumble and re-emerge changed.