"My apologies," he says. "I did not mean to intrude." Neither had he meant to surprise her, but the way she holds her body suggests, that apologies for startling her would not be welcomed.
"I was just pleased to come across someone else who might appreciate those trees. They look perfect fro climbing in."
Truth be told, he hardly looks like someone who habitually climbs trees. Flowing robes and long, unbound hair doesn't really lend itself to tree-climbing.
It's possible that the look Rachel is giving him now questions the frequency of his climbing escapades, yes. "I guess."
The repetition in dull responses hasn't caught her notice just yet. She's too busy wondering how to get through a conversation about trees, when the trees had never really been the focus of her stare.
Eyebrows lift but Rachel doesn't argue. He's an adult who isn't challenging her in any sort of important situation - he gets deference.
Besides... the eyes and ears are making her wary. Minor, ignorable features in Rachel's experience, but enough to signal she shouldn't mouth off.
Instead, light blue eyes flick back to the trees and actually focus on them this time. Just in case there's something fascinating there she hadn't noticed before.
"It looks like there might be good hunting there as well."
Another important aspect to consider. Will it hide you? Will it feed you? Will it appreciate your songs? The latter aspect might only be really important to Wood Elves but kind og patient trees are always preferable to the opposite.
It's not such an odd thing to admit. Elrond doesn't look like he'd climb a lot of trees. Rachel doesn't look like she occasionally tears things to bloody shreds - only occasionally for food.
Maybe he picks up on what is behind that small frown. Maybe he is just in a chatty mood.
"My home is situated in a deep valley, surrounded by woods. My own horses are used to that sort of terrain. But perhaps I shall just set out on foot. If the woods are deep enough, I could always sleep under the stars and return a day or two later."
He's walked quietly through the grass, but he hasn't tried not to be heard. He's just been an elf.
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Staring at him in defensive annoyed silence for a moment, Rachel returns her gaze to the trees in a far huffier mood. "Uh, yeah. I guess."
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"I was just pleased to come across someone else who might appreciate those trees. They look perfect fro climbing in."
Truth be told, he hardly looks like someone who habitually climbs trees. Flowing robes and long, unbound hair doesn't really lend itself to tree-climbing.
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The repetition in dull responses hasn't caught her notice just yet. She's too busy wondering how to get through a conversation about trees, when the trees had never really been the focus of her stare.
"Um. They're nice."
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To the casual observer he looks like a fit and handsome man in his forties perhaps. But then there're the eyes. And the ears.
"Very nice indeed, yes." He doesn't seem to mind that the answer isn't terribly eloquent.
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Besides... the eyes and ears are making her wary. Minor, ignorable features in Rachel's experience, but enough to signal she shouldn't mouth off.
Instead, light blue eyes flick back to the trees and actually focus on them this time. Just in case there's something fascinating there she hadn't noticed before.
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Another important aspect to consider. Will it hide you? Will it feed you? Will it appreciate your songs? The latter aspect might only be really important to Wood Elves but kind og patient trees are always preferable to the opposite.
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It's not such an odd thing to admit. Elrond doesn't look like he'd climb a lot of trees. Rachel doesn't look like she occasionally tears things to bloody shreds - only occasionally for food.
But it's there, all the same.
Though she has no idea about the songs.
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As for her hunting, there is nothing strange about that to him. She looks old enough.
"How's the undergrowth? Would a horse do?"
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Before she puts serious thought to it, what it would be like to try and run through the forest as a horse.
"Some parts are okay," she offers after a moment, frowning lightly. "If you're careful."
And why be a horse, with their love of running, if you have to be careful the whole time?
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"My home is situated in a deep valley, surrounded by woods. My own horses are used to that sort of terrain. But perhaps I shall just set out on foot. If the woods are deep enough, I could always sleep under the stars and return a day or two later."
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