As the music played on, Dwaline tapped his foot along to the beat. Avalon the Crow seemed to enjoy the song and dance going on, and chirped away to the tune. John's question stuck in her mind. She herself was not sure why Cree had come to the shire, though she had told her, Avalon was not sure about what truth was in it. Paranoia was setting in.
Dwaline leant over to John. "And I suppose you understand the tong of Birds now, do ye?" John frowned and shook his head; "Avalon came on business with her elf friend, that is all you need to know."
As the music continued, Dwaline thought back to when he was a young Dwarf, he heard many songs on his travels. From Elves of the forest, to wild men in the mountains, even the old sing song from a disgusting Goblin.
"Nothing compares to the music of the shire," he said to himself, "It's all so cheerful and merry, whimsical and jolly. I have to say it's my favourite. Yes, elvish singing is not a thing to miss, but Hobbit folk have a way of making songs about the strangest things.
"We dwarves have very queer songs by their standards. I don't suppose they'd be well received by the Half-lings. They are mostly dark, and dreary, going slow. Oft, they are about treasures, dragons and such. I remember a poem my father taught me..." He quietly spoke softly while the band rested for a minuet.
Deep in caverns grey
A secret treasure lay
Forgotten by Kings of old
Lost by warriors, bold
Carven jewels and gold so bright
None can save it from this plight.
Elvish gems, Dwarvish gold
This thing makes them ashen cold
Dwarrow delf, and Moria
Durin himself would travel far
To find where the secret treasure lies
Before the sun fails, and moon dies.
A silence came about them for a moment as Dwaline finished his poem; some Hobbits had listened in and shook their heads. "Nonsense!" they said of it. Dwaline took another drink of his ale and levelled his eyes at John.