Arwen's brow raised as the man approached. Man... or something that looked like one. There was so much loss within him, pain and dark remnants of some cruel magic hung around him like a weight, and it gave Arwen pause. She regarded him in silence for a moment, ageless grey eyes watching him with infinite stillness. He was even more curious than the tree, as something of immortality lingered within him yet he was mortal enough. Was he something like her? A peredhil who had chosen the path of men?
"Your company is welcome enough, if you can explain this." She gestured to the tree. A glance upward at the mistletoe. "Does this plant have some meaning?" She might have asked another question if the young woman had not entered, and Arwen's gaze fell on her. The lack of greeting surprised the elf.
"We have not," Arwen answered the strange girl. Something in her reminded Arwen of the Doctor, but moreover there was something within her beyond the griefs of mortal loss. Something of her had been touched by the eternal, and Arwen once more wondered at the strangeness of this place and its inhabitants.
She looked at the two strange mortals, touched with things which should not be the ken of Men and lost within this dreaming place. Not for the first time she wished for Galadriel's greater talents at seeing within others. "This is a custom of Men then?"