[Ah, finally, social interactions Tauriel is familiar with. The girl's bearing, the acknowledging bow of her head, even the cadence of her speech, is familiar enough to her to finally have her relax a portion, some of the stiffness leaving her shoulders as she smiles a little.]

That would be an excellent discovery, should we make it.

[Abruptly, she realizes she does not know who this girl is. Based on her interaction with other people in this inn — hotel, it is a hotel — she has a sinking feeling she is not from Middle Earth, but even so, Tauriel feels she must ask.]

I am Tauriel of the Greenwood, my lady. Might I inquire to whom I am speaking?