“I would not give the Dark Lord the pleasure of such innuendos. My Guard trains to eradicate the Spiders, not to ride them.”

“You are very kind, thank you for the compliment. My hounds, Pigen and Nimp have done their best to ensure that my ears and face are well nibbled.”

“Yes, yes there is. Why do you ask?”

“I think you, Grey one, are the person who should be proud. That is a clever joke. Far better and more creative than those who have asked what my elf eyes see. I must say though, no two Dwarves smell the same. It’s very much like walking into a cheese shop.”

“Your retellings are not welcome here, Necromancer. Though I will take your advice about amassing friends to gain peace. There is strength in numbers…especially in the matters of eviction.”

“Nothing like some quality introspection to start the day I suppose.”

“This one is easy. My son and my wife, or rather her spirit and touch that still lingers in our garden.”

“I’m not quite sure what I am supposed to say here. My thoughts on intimacy vary greatly depending on who the other party or parties are. I do believe there are some immutable standards or rules when it comes to intimate matters. The first is consent. No amount of ale or wine or other party favour justifies robbing someone of their dignity or security. The second is laughter. Laughter and conversation. A strong marriage is full of it. Not cruel laughter of course, unless it is the kind that comes after tickling someone’s foot that is sticking out from under the duvet. The third is to never leave toenails or crumbs in the bed.”

“I always feel like myself when I am hunting. I do not feel empowered by having control over a game animal’s life, but rather by the whole experience. Even if I come back with empty hands and a full quiver; the crisp bite of the air, the sounds of everything in the Forest and field unfurling and chirping in tandem with the hoofbeats of my mount will stay with me for days. I also gained a new appreciation for what it means to “feel like myself” after Legolas’s birth. My initial recovery after Dagorlad…was not one of the most proud parts of my life.

Endeavouring to rebuild the Greenwood with my injuries and the tragically diminished numbers of my people was no small feat. Mirkwood would not be the flourishing force it is today without many, many loyal, resilient souls and helping hands. After my wife passed during the birth of our son, I collapsed into a bottle of Dorwinion wine. Several bottles of Dorwinion wine. The moment I was roused and an attendant put my swaddled son in my arms, I felt as though I had broken through the ice covering the Marshes that had been trying to drown me with far more potency than the wine. I felt renewed, and truly like who I was supposed to be.”

“Send word to the Ironfoot delegation that I shall not be leaving this seat for the rest of the day. We will sup in this Hall tonight.”

//All aboard~

I’m glad to have made another convert! #coppersprite