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Conversation between the elves had faded after the slight awkwardness of their interaction with Amadi and each gave their attention to their meal. Mithalwen had let her thoughts wander the path of her long memory until the new voice brought her back to the present - she wasn't sure he addressed her, but one glance was enough to tell her that he needed help and urgently.
In a moment she was at his side, later she might wonder at a mailshirt worn in the peaceable Shire but for now the blood that flecked his pale face held her attention fully. She rued that she had little leechcraft - there were those in Mithlond that did though there was not much call for it save for the odd accident or the succour of mortals in the area. Mithalwen thought bitterly that she could repair wood or metal but faced with an injury more serious than a scrape or minor burn she was at a loss.
She guided the warrior to a seat and called to her companions to seek help.
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