*gravely, lapsing into Quenya* [Far be it from me to question my lord Ehtelion, of course.] *grins brightly at a passing (confused) staffer* 'Night, Jürgon.
*tucks the inhaler into his pocket and shoots you a curious look (phone call) as they head down the hall* I'll keep an ear out, then...? *does have to smile, though, with the mention of home* Ah, I'm afraid I'm becoming a bore in my old age, sir. No real birthday plans, aside from mooching around Carol's and fattening up on her cooking.
*after a moment, adds:* We're going out to my parents' old house on Saturday, though. Probably the cemetary, too. I haven't been to Chetcombe in... oh, almost five years now. *as though explaining* Not since my uncle died.