"Get ye gone, giant featherduster, you have corrupted the poor lady." Glorfindel huffs, shooing the giant bird, as if even his weight would make any difference if Landroval had a mind to stay.

"Give my greetings to Elrond's children, flower-lord." Landroval instructs, unruffled by Glorfindel's attempts to shift him. "Fair skies and good hunting to you, Lady Alana."