[Faybevin Bombadil]

Selvren Anion sat with the rest of the group listening vaguely to the conversations around him. A fire had been started and Vraín stoked it every now and then to keep it alive; his brother Graín telling him where there was a still an unconsumed log poking out of the flames. The elf had met but a few dwarves and because of the circumstances, had had no time for conversation. He stood and walked over to where the two dwarf brothers were seated.

“Selvren Anion at your service,” he said bowing his head slightly. “Vraín and Graín you are, so I have gathered.” The two dwarves nodded simultaneously and extended their hands in greeting. The elf shook both and took a seat beside them. “I have heard very much of Erebor and on occasion spoken a little with some of its inhabitants. You two and the rest,” he said nodding towards the other dwarves in their company, “are the first that I will ever get to know better. Perhaps you can share a bit with me about your lore?” Selvren was so intrigued by the pair that he wanted to jump right into a full-blown conversation on their histories and culture. However, since they had only just met, he decided to wait a bit before speaking too much. Such was often the fault of many.