Mornenion walks along cobble path towards his little house in the corner of Hamglen. There is a chill in the air and so he wraps his grey cloak tightly around him, as the golden leaves tumble down from the trees above.

A small smile rests on the hooded ellon's face. He is quite amused, it seems. The reason as to why... He'd run into Fiontann as he went out to clear his head some. The leader of The Black Steel had insisted that Mornenion should join him to visit his friend, a healer. The man had said that his friend was a lot like Mornenion, which peaked the ellon's interest. What did Fiontann perceive him to be? It should be answered by how this man acts.

They'd walked up to the 'Blackbird Soothery' as it was named and gone into a moderately sized building. The interior was quaint, but dark. Mornenion found he quite liked it, compared to other buildings he'd been to in Bree. Nothing compared to his own house or library in Lindon, though. Fiontann's friend, the healer, had been asleep when they'd entered and was startled awake. Fiontann then introduced them both. The healer was named Elias Dimheim. He'd offered for them to come sit down, so Mornenion followed along. So far, Mornenion could see some similarities between Elias and how he himself acted. Fiontann had been somewhat right in that aspect.

They conversed some, taking about a celebration called Harvestmath, which interested Mornenion little. The discussion picked up some when Mornenion began to talk about his research, omitting parts where needed. A lot had to be omitted, to be fair, as Elias should not know that Mornenion is an elf, as well as a few other things that Mornenion didn't want to share at the time. Elias did not understand the purpose of history and Mornenion's search for lost artefacts. The elf could tell that the man would never truly understand him, for some of his reasons to going into the field had ties with a past that he wished not to share. However, he decided to entertain himself some and began an argument with the man over the subject of studying the past. Elias' irritation was quite amusing to try and counter, however Mornenion became irked some when his own tongue nearly slipped and the man said something that made Mornenion think that he'd figured out his 'true' identity so to speak, that he was an elf. Either the man was very perceptive or one of the Black Steel's tongues had slipped. He suspected it was the latter. He tried to not let his irritation show too much, although it was easy to hide in the distaste he showed at Elias' arguments. He let the man win the argument in the end, as Mornenion began to get a little bored.

A young woman joined, wearing a strange horned mask, making some comments about their argument. Mornenion did not know who she was, nor did he ask. He did not care much. He left without saying farewell. Perhaps he should have. His mind was more focused on finding something else to entertain him. His flute was at home, so home he was headed.

Fiontann stopped him on the way out, again saying that Mornenion was a lot like Elias, despite the argument they'd had. Was he like the man? Perhaps a little. But on the whole, Mornenion wasn't sure. Mornenion, despite his thousands of years, still didn't truly know what he was like. Sometimes he would act as he does now, other times not. Sometimes he'd even fall back to who he'd try to forget about. Those parts of him were not like Elias, so Fiontann was wrong.

As Mornenion got to his front door, his mind drifted to his flute, to where he put it last and promptly moved his thoughts on from the meeting with Elias.