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[kingsdaughter]

[Sigrid is looking fairly haggard and pale. Behind her is the rugged green wilderness surrounding the Station, though the Station itself is not in sight.]

I'm in the middle of nowhere at all and I've got a bad leg. I couldn't find my locket and I had to ask a thrush to find it for me. A thrush. I'm talking to thrushes and they answer me. Anyway I need help. The thrush said he'd go and find someone, but I don't know who he meant. Does anyone know if thrushes are wise birds or silly birds? If he brings back a bear or something, I've got to hide now.

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[kingsdaughter]

[She doesn't want to ask him what she said that made him take off like that, not while she's in his arms with no escape. She's usually good at comforting people, but she has been so ill-prepared for her last two attempts it's been like going into battle blindfolded. Her only conclusion from it all has been that nobody here really wants comfort; they're either beyond comfort, which isn't her fault, or they really just want to be pitied and/or persecuted, which she has no intention of indulging.]

So's everyone.

[She means Thranduil, but it's hard to tell. Nobody gives pats on the back for strength where she comes from. On the Lake, strength is a default, not a virtue. It's the only thing that explains why you're still alive, most of the time. She got to hear a number of peoples' opinions on how sad it was that her mother wasn't strong enough to survive a third birth.]