tehhumi

A dark haired man sat alone at his campfire. 

“Who goes there?” He cried, drawing his sword, “Show yourself! I warn you, I learned to fight from the Marchwardens of Doriath!”

An elf with eyes that were nearly aflame emerged scarcely ten feet from the clearing’s edge. “You have good hearing for a Man.”

“And you are skilled in woodcraft for a Noldo.”