[Galadriel arches a brow at this but, for a moment, says nothing. She does not wish to question him too terribly on the method of his art, but it is so strange to her that elven artisans in Thedas do not do this. It is intrinsic to the art in Arda.]

It is more an act of imbuing it with...[She makes a small huff of frustration, it is a rare sound coming from her.] I am sorry, I lack the equivalent word. To imbue your works with fëa is so common that seeing works without is...odd for me.

[She lifts the corner of her cloak to serve as an example. On the surface it is a boring object, plain grey and uninteresting. It is easy to let one's eyes slide over the fabric and travel onward to view other things. If one focuses, though, it becomes a challenge to see; where the fabric passes into shadow it even seems to reflect the world behind Galadriel. It is a dizzying effect, overall.]

I doubt I could weave a cloak that did not carry my will within it. But then, I suppose I have never been overly concerned with anonymity.