I can read and write. [ it's a question that might have insulted him, were circumstances not what they were. but in this changed world, where his life and his people are considered myths, is it any surprise that someone would wonder? no one outside the temple but the wolf remembers that abelas had once stood at mythal's side, trusted and relied upon. she'd seen to it that he'd been properly educated, building upon what he'd picked up under his master's nose.

he gives him a sidelong glance, hesitating, watching thranduil's face as if for signs of a lie. he is like abelas's people, then. he needs to ask solas about him. but.. in the meantime, there are some things that he can speak of.

for a few moments, he's quiet, finishing off the apple and licking juice off the pad of his thumb. at last, he hums out a musing noise. ] I'll say, then, that I too would consider your son rather young.. by standards I once kept, at least. [ that's telling enough, he supposes. ] How long have you been here?