She grins, she sits. Oh, it's been too long since she's heard music.

"Kobolds sing," she offers, wistfully, when he stops.

She looks happy. That feels good. "We have to sing quietly," he says, "people will hear us. Another song?" And he starts one.

She listens until she thinks she has an idea of how the song goes, and then starts quietly humming a harmony.

He's delighted and claps his hands together, but very quietly. When they're done - "want to teach me one of yours?"

'Teach', that's going to be a useful word. Singing first, though. Here's something her tribe would sing together while traveling to and from the yearly meetup, fairly simple and not requiring any particular accompaniment.

He smiles, listens, eventually joins in.

She grins and pats the floor next to herself, still singing.

He hesitates for a moment, but then he comes and sits down. "I don't like being touched."

She doesn't know those words, but she can make a guess from the tone and the hesitation. She doesn't touch him; she does stop singing and look worried about him.

He gestures annoyedly for her to continue singing.

She holds the look for another second, but then starts singing again; this one's the sort of song you'd hear around a campfire at night, sweet and slow.

He relaxes marginally.

Maybe she was supposed to land in the palace after all, to cheer him up. The idea makes him stiff and anxious again.

She doesn't try to touch him; she doesn't stop singing. She does look worried, again.

He continues to sit there, tense and miserable, considering it. They usually aren't clever enough to do something like that.

The song ends. She sits silently for a few moments.

So does he. He doesn't really want to do anything else. He wasn't doing anything when she came in.

She watches him.

After a couple minutes, she disappears.

He cries out, then realizes he doesn't want anyone coming, then looks around bewilderedly at the space where she vanished. He feels vaguely hurt and betrayed. He kicks the nearest piece of furniture.

She reappears just after he does so, carrying a large leather bundle, and looks confusedly from him to the kicked chair.

"Where did you go?" he says, hoping his tone will make up for the language barrier.

She considers, and then shrugs, "go."

"How? We can't do that. If I wanted to go I'd have to - open the door -" he gestures.

"Go," she repeats, and then in the language she's more familiar with, "magic."

And then to demonstrate, she teleports a few feet to the left and back, staying within his field of vision.

"Magic," he repeats, awed. "Can I do it?" He has a sudden feeling that he can, why not, and he jumps into the air. This doesn't work.

This is such a cute kid.

She makes a gesture along the lines of 'calm down, first things first', and spreads her bundle out - it turns out to be a thick, heavy blanket - and sits. "Fëanáro teach talk?"