Looks like just the accelerated building schedule; they've got nearly everyone out working on the walls, and there are lots of children dancing in the rain.

She finds Brithombar before mid-day: a walled city, clumsily built, densely packed with people.

She has a look at the interior first, but then looks for something resembling an entrance in the wall and touches down outside that.

The guards here seem quite relaxed, leaning against the wall and looking out across the plains. They do look a little gaunt, but no worse than the Nolofinweans.

"Hello," Loki says.

They jump when she changes forms, but don't draw weapons, and step back in something resembling awe. "Hello," one says after a moment.

"I am Loki Odinsdottir and come to seek an audience with Círdan, both on my own behalf and bearing messages from the newcomers."

"Welcome," he says, still looking a bit awed, "and I will take the liberty of extending my lord's welcome as well, though he's not here to offer it. He should return this evening."

"Should I come back later?" she asks.

"We'd be happy to show you anything you desire in the meantime."

"I don't know what there is to see," she points out. "My eyes are much worse than yours and I didn't see much of the city before landing."

At that they look genuinely confused. "Did Ulmo not grant you the powers that bring you here?'

"...the power to turn into a bird? No, that power is homemade and doesn't come with a vision enhancement."

"Ah," the man says awkwardly.

"Sorry for the confusion."

"We've desired a messenger from Ulmo for some time, and his often take the form of birds - though usually birds of the sea. We could have guessed. Uh, what brings you here?"

"I have messages for Círdan," she repeats. "From the newcomers and myself both. They're not particular secrets, if you mean you wish to know the contents...?"

"You are clearly yourself a newcomer," he says. "I mean, how did you hear of us, why did you decide to bring messages, how are you known to the other newcomers - you're not one of them -"

"I first heard of the city of Brithombar from Lúthien, princess of Doriath," she says. "I travel fast and have ongoing interests in various far-flung things and often find myself playing messenger bird. I am in a sense a newcomer but I arrived in an inter-realm transit accident while I was trying to get somewhere you've never heard of from somewhere else you've never heard of; I happened to land among one host of the newcomers and introduced myself to the others later."

He smiles at Lúthien's name. "I see. Are they all well? Are your messages time-sensitive, such that we should ride out after our lord Círdan?"

"My messages are not time-sensitive enough that I cannot wait for the evening. Everyone from whom I bear a message is doing all right."

"That's good, then," he says, relaxing again. "Come in and enjoy a meal with us while we wait for Círdan to return, then."

"Thank you, I'd like that."

Someone emerges from the gate at this point, her face flushed. "Meril," she says. "Welcome to the Falas. We can definitely do lunch. Do you eat lobster?"