There are two, not one, two elflings on the porch of the Mansion. They are actually rather happy children, about eight years old, and talking to each other in a sing-song joyful verse of Sindarin.
They don't seem bothered by the fact that the cold is a bit chilly, or by their presence on the Mansion door. Their clothes are tattered and soiled,
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Elurin likes his theory that no-one wanted to hurt them and that this was all an accident. It's much better. Even if sometimes he wonder if it's not a bit his fault.
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If only that were actually true, this is breaking Telvo's heart.
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Elured, on the other hand, is not.
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"It's just that.... I think.... do you have a brother called Tyelkormo?"
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