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LOTHIRIEL: Ioreth, two liquids and I make a queenly combination.
URWEN: ‘Heard you, little bird!’ (She appears, with minimal disturbance).
THINGOL: Emaciated Stoor begins to resemble a highborn elf.
H: He’s initially a wee lad, without direction.
IMRAHIL: Edge around and greet him, with another little spin.
E: Loner? In a roundabout way, but not by choice. (A daddy, though, initially).
NEWRA: New bra loses plosive, but she appears with it back to front!
Close! It's RIM + HAIL.
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"Sit by the firelight's glow; tell us an old tale we know. Tell of adventures strange and rare; never to change, ever to share! Stories we tell will cast their spell, now and for always."
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