Faorie stands in the Hall of Fire, meditating over recent events when a man makes his way to stand before her. She looks to him and he looks to her.
He kneels before Faorie.
Faorie is rather surprised by his immense sense of formality. She bows in return. “Suilad, friend,” she says.
“Do not bow.” He stares at her for a long moment. “Yer an elf. I will hev' no elf bowing before me.”
