[Tauriel is not used to being hailed by a simple "hey," but even so ignorant, she is able to discern when an attempt is being made to capture her attention, and so she turns slowly to see who it is that wishes to speak to her so badly they call out as if she were a horse.
It is a human — they are all humans, it seems, humans everywhere and none of her own kin, no dwarves even to glare at her familiarly and grumble to themselves under their breath in their rocky tongue — of perhaps middling age, not a boy anymore, but perhaps not a man? She is not good at guessing the ages of other races, and he is dressed in a manner she is recognizing, but is still not familiar with.
What strange-looking spectacles he wears.]
Regretfully, I do not. I have a feeling no one does.
no subject
It is a human — they are all humans, it seems, humans everywhere and none of her own kin, no dwarves even to glare at her familiarly and grumble to themselves under their breath in their rocky tongue — of perhaps middling age, not a boy anymore, but perhaps not a man? She is not good at guessing the ages of other races, and he is dressed in a manner she is recognizing, but is still not familiar with.
What strange-looking spectacles he wears.]
Regretfully, I do not. I have a feeling no one does.