"I shall see you then," he replies, with a little nod, before moving to follow Clark.

Clark and Martha, and now Vernon. Strange names, to which he cannot yet put meaning, though he is certain to with time. The farm, as well, is strange; not that Fëanáro is terribly familiar with farms, but there are a great many more... contraptions, than he is accustomed to seeing, and his fingers itch to take them apart, and divine their function.

"Tell me, Clark, have you any books or scrolls I might borrow, to better acquaint myself with your tongue?"