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I like Findekáno and I'm casting about for ways to make him less fretful about you, and also I didn't get to know either of you before the whole mess but I bet it was adorable.

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You think it would make him less fretful about me? I expect it'd be extremely unpleasant for him. I don't think he's real.

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Well, I don't know if it would help or not but it doesn't seem impossible and I'm not sure he's going to improve on that front while nothing changes.

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Ask him if it'd make him happy. Make it clear it won't help me, except for amusing me temporarily.

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She writes it down.

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It won't, you know. I won't believe you if you say it does. But I kind of want to see what you'll try anyway. Also ask Nolofinwë if he minds if I fly over his host and look at them.

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She writes that down too.

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Is there anything else?

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I should probably teach you to cling to a tree and we should assign someplace with trees as the new meeting point. If you want to be left in the air and not turned back before I go.

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I'm going to scout the eastern continent where apparently Elwë wants us to settle, and then see if I can find Cuivienen.

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Okay. Let's do clinging to trees, it's sometimes handy even if you definitely can fly indefinitely. She turns treeward. She clings to a tree trunk and osanwës it.

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He tries, misses, manages to stay in the air.

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She demonstrates again.

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This time he manages it, albeit very clumsily.

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She gives him a couple more demos.

I'll be near here again in three days with whatever news I've collected in that time.
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I'll be here. And he takes off towards the east.

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She heads west to Fëanor's.

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There's a new greenhouse being erected; they're now planting on the other side of the lakeshore as well, and expanding their barricade. There are around forty more orcs tied to the fence.

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Loki goes in the usual way and heads for the orcs. Orcs first. Orcs are a relatively simple problem.

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The people idly standing around to guard the orcs don't come any closer - they probably needn't, they're still within earshot - but watch interestedly.

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"Hello, I'm Loki. Has Vár explained everything to you?" Loki inquires of the orcs collectively.

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"Mad elf-besotten liar," someone volunteers. Their neighbors cringe away from them.

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"If you don't cooperate I do have to kill you," Loki says. "It will not be my favorite part of the day, but I'll do it. Is everybody else clear on the concept? Where is Vár, anyway?"

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"Across the lake," one of the guards volunteers, "assuming Vár's the bubbly one. She's running over now."

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"Yes, Vár's the bubbly one." Loki decides to wait for her.

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