[It's far more than he asked for, pieces of the puzzle spilled out without a frame to put them in or even an idea of how many there ought to be, what shape they were supposed to make at the end. The best he can do in the instant is slip them into the holes left by his own expectations--
As always, the fit jars. He bites his tongue, keeps his words to himself; better the patient listener than the loyal son of the Chantry right now.]
Our people, [softly.] We--we elves brought you here?
no subject
As always, the fit jars. He bites his tongue, keeps his words to himself; better the patient listener than the loyal son of the Chantry right now.]
Our people, [softly.] We--we elves brought you here?