*with a touch of fondness* Eärwen, yes. I really should catch up with her more often. Under better circumstances. *presses her lips together in thought* I would not be surprised if Nerdanel was responsible, though. She must know the danger better than anyone. And Finrod will be calling any day now, I'm sure. *almost wryly* Perhaps the queens of Beleriand should gather and bang those heads together, ourselves.
*falls silent and considers a moment, her expression hardening* Fëanorian tempers were not the only threat we faced in Ossiriand. Your father was nearly killed the night before Mír's game. Officially, nothing happened at all. Unofficially, it was a car accident. *looks up at you, something of fury still glimmering deep* It was a—a creature. Discordant. Dark. I pulled her off him before she could do much worse than shake him, but it was far too close a thing.
*drops her gaze to one side and inhales, perhaps a little shakily* Had I not been there...