It had been three days since the Ethele'Mele celebrations and Haldir still missed the festivities that came with the feast, he was well past his hay days as a young elf and the romantic spur that came with the whispers in dark corners and the suggestive touches shared between lovers during the period for which the feasts subsisted had dulled for him, he had grown to appreciate the segregation of the feasts into different levels for the different elves who lived within the walls of Moorhen, reasoning that it had made it all the more unique and totally devoid of conflict.
The feast he had officiated a few nights ago had been exclusively for nobles, the only common elves who had been present had been the servants who served the mead for the celebrations, and even they had been granted leave
