𝕳e may laugh at it, that he and his should already have become grey ghosts whispered about in the dark, but fey for it would come to be a cruel truth. So long as she spoke not, did not her guesses then remind that Celegorm's arrows should find her swiftly, if she fled?

In that time much he learned despite her silence or rightly what he had discerned before ever asking. Not merely that she came out of Doriath but also that she came alone. His hounds had not taken up another scent. Why she had passed out of the girdle, that wall of shadow and bewilderment so as it kept even the darkest foes away, he knew not. Yet her fear as he perceived, that all her fright was not for the wolves that had come upon her Celegorm also guessed.

He knew that Thingol had little love for the Ñoldor and that the people would heed their king in such matters. Indeed her thanks Celegorm took to be less earnest even than the answers that she did not give. His brow creased then and the menace in his gaze glared yet, but now for what the maiden did have said.

❛ Would ye in Doriath keep him by that name! ❜ Proud were all the Ñoldor in their speech and Celegorm not least. To hear the Black Foe named thus displeased him. Yea, what scorn Thingol had for them the sons of Fëanor also held against him readily.

But now that he had been roused and spoken he would tell her of the wolves. ❛ They heeded a lesser master, but no less foul he is than Morgoth himself. Too bold have he and they become and skulk by night ever closer to our hold, Nargothrond. ❜ And saying so Celegorm was more keen ever than before. He knew her answer then but asked. ❛ Had they come past the Girdle and do you hunt them here? ❜