[Saelind]

Neviel listened intently to Marigold's description of Falco Headstrong. The young Elf thought a moment and then he spoke. "Don't feel bad, Marigold....about Mr. Headstrong, I mean. Whenever big people have problems they don't want to talk about, the just tell everyone they have a headache. My father is the same way. When he is feeling blue and missing mother, he just says he has a headache. Elves aren't even supposed to get headaches, but he still says it anyway! If Mr. Heastrong told you that, it probably means he wants to be alone to think through something."

"Look over there," said Neviel excitedly, pulling determinedly on Marigold's sleeve. "Look and see what Miz Bella is doing." Their teacher was seated in front of a large display of yarn and threads and was picking them up one at a time. It looked as if every colour in the world had been splashed across the table. Some of the yarns were bright reds and yellows and green, simple colors that hobbits love. Others were soft, muted shades of blue and grey that reminded Neviel of the Sea. He thought that his father would especially like those. Still others seemed to glitter with silver and gold. Intrigued by the sight of so many colors, Neviel snatched again at Marigold's sleeve and began guiding her over to the table where Miz Bella was seated.