[ Instantly, Legolas relaxes when the familiar and so beloved voice reaches his ears, when his father rides out towards him and stops near-by. The arrow returns to the quiver and he puts the bow to his back as well, to have both hands free now. Instantly also, a smile comes on his features, curling the corners of his lips and easily reaching his eyes. He approaches with quick steps, reaching a hand to touch the steed's snout, rub gently along the nose, while he looks up to his father with a look that betrays both joy and amusement.

His voice is all easy tones and subtle, very private, laughter; a little more free now that there are no guards to watch the way the Elvenking and his son as they speak privately. ]

That was not the plan, though it appears I must have misplaced my sense of time this morning if you rode out to find me. It seems your game has found you first, however.

[ And his gaze shifts from Thranduil's face towards beyond the canopies of the trees with a pleasant sigh. ]

I did not realise it was so late already.