Fingon rather suspects an influx of angry visitors, though he doesn't really know why. It's not like he did anything, or anything. And he knows he's right, too. This is just going to make it a little harder to prove it.
At any rate, he's now sitting in his room, flipping idly through a book and his expression set on his default, lately - vaguely
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But if Fingon needs to have some fresh air and a calm, reasonable, objective conversation, he'll be on the front lawn, training.
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"Wanna fill me in on the last events?"
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