[ The ears, the hair, the bearing. Many things small and large alike say elf, yet equally many say otherwise. It's a curious thing to him, like so many of the folk arriving are (so much he had seen already, so much more there is to see and to know, in Drabwurld and among all the shardbearers of either court), and his look shows it, yet without staring rudely. His interest is blatant, almost tangible in the air, but he also keeps his attention on the conversation. A small, friendly smile ever in place. ]

Ah! Nay, my apologies! For many who have been brought this night this stronghold will become a home from now on, should they choose to remain, and I would encourage to explore and grow familiar with its layout. But I would also encourage making the most of tonight, the rare times when true peace can be enjoyed by the shardbearers are the nights of the feast.

[ That smile broadens in a moment, mirth flashes in his eyes and he gives a small shrug. ]

Unless one enjoys spending their time differently.

[ Like himself, riding out into the forest in the dead of the night. Though it's not entirely without a purpose that he goes through with this little excursion. ]