[ it is impossible to be mad at a hobbit. indeed, thranduil- regret is not the right word, for the elvenking does not regret- would have been less sharp, had he a chance to redo it. all he can do now is wipe the anger from his face, and calm the halfling to the best of his ability. ]

'Tis I who must beg your pardon, child of the Shire. [ and he bows in apology, an incline of his head. ] I thought you to be one of the Men bumbling about- stinking of drink.

[ thranduil cuts his rant short, and steps closer, to have a better point from where he can gesture to the bird, high in the rafters, the sunlight coming through the rafters turning motes of dust into sparkling glitter. ] She is frightened, and, whilst not in pain, close to panic. The tube about her leg is new to her. I seek to calm her, and remove the tube.