The woman's eyes flickered erratically, her tone nearly unhinged as she stammered, "He was fighting a giant spider? Why? He was supposed to be the kind of man who'd spend his entire life brooding in his chambers! Why was he moving? Why was he out there?"
Her voice became a series of jumbled, incoherent murmurs. Her form began to waver, flickering like a candle's flame in a gust of wind, as if she might vanish altogether.
Tauriel furrowed her brows in confusion. The woman had appeared bound to her fate, as though they were intrinsically linked. Yet her concern, her panic—it was all centered around Einar Sanguis.
"Why do you care so much about him?" Tauriel asked quietly. "Are you... connected to him somehow? Do you know him?"
The woman froze mid-flicker. Her wild mutterings halted, and she exhaled a long breath as if the question had grounded her. "Don't worry," she mumbled, half to herself. "He's fine. He's okay. That's all that matters."
