You suddenly get toppled over by a grey wolf-hound, falling to the forest floor. The dog barks excitedly and wags his large shaggy tail.

A voice chuckles from behind the giant hound. "Woah careful there! What hast thou caught, good Huan say?" An elf dismounts from his horse, his long ashen-blond hair streaming behind him. In one hand, he holds an elven spear and over his back is slung a golden bow. Furs and hides cover his broad shoulders.

The elf walks over to Huan and scratches the hound's chin. Then he examines you with grey eyes. "Thou art not a rabbit nor a nimble roe." He remarks aptly with a slight grin of amusement at Huan's catch. "What fares thee hither? Hath thee not heard the sons of Fëanor are hunting in these woods at present?"