*feels the intensity of your gaze from inside the car, her own senses wide open and on hyper-alert*
*half-listening to her husband reassuring their daughter over the phone (just a little accident, Lúthiekins, your mother's fussing enough for both of you), finds her own thoughts drifting back to the creature's words* *focuses her long sight and tries again to glimpse something, anything of use, but quickly suppresses a shudder (she does not know whether the chill is a portent of doom unfolding, or simply a wall through which she cannot see)*
*gets Thingol back to the hotel and settles him as best she can, finally watching him doze off around midnight* *makes her way to the roof and looks up at your constellation (I'm here / we need to talk)*