*waits for Ecthelion to open the door a little wider for you*
what sort of nonsense?
*shakes her head, rather relieved/disappointed to see you covered up* I don't know, my lord; I'm sorry. That's all I've heard. We wanted to make sure you— *is confused as she looks between you and Ecthelion (Pete's asking for him)* —were informed straightaway. Can I go now and forcibly burn the image of those bitemarks from my brain?