(crash landing)

[nolfin]

Ai, dear Ulmo, what's happened? *sitting on the ground, rubbing his head with both hands, before looking around and trying to get his bearings* Such a splitting headache. Everything shook for a moment and now... and now?

*rises* Is this not Gondolin still? But everything... Eru... this is not right.


*checks himself finding his sword, knitting needles, a book on Telerin-style child-rearing (which he'd been planning to lend to Fingon), and a pouch of gold*

Where is my wife? My sons, even. *under his breath* Varda, I swear if this is because I said your entire paper is a lie I will hunt you down.


Well, I suppose I should try to find -someone- familiar and figure out what in Eru's song is going on.

Comments

[second_time_around]

*Fëanor's out on his daily stalk around the city, causing mild-manered elves to scatter in his wake, when he spies a familiar face*

...Nolofinwë?