Debra
The dryad's yellow eyes glimmered brightly at the offering of wood; she recognized the intent behind it, and she delicately took the pale piece into her palm. After a thorough investigation of it, she nodded in satisfaction and cupped it gently to her chest, her eyes closed in concentration. A pale green glow emanated from her fingers, and with a soft, song-like murmur under her breath, the glow burned brighter and brighter - blazing like pure sunlight - before dimming and fading away.

She opened her eyes, smiling as she held out one of her cupped hands towards Nargul; instead of the pale, dead knot of wood from moments ago, there was a deep brown figurine. It was now living oak, shaped into the sturdy figure of a woman with wise eyes and a dress of etched flowers.

"*Yor'isha* Alynthi," Nura whispered reverently, "*Jishobu ju ru'koki aan ru Jishiga'ka.*"

With her right hand offering the figurine, her left beckoned amicably for the wolf to come closer; she held no fear for any beasts of the wild - seeing them as creations of Galedrial - and was always happy to befriend them whenever she could.

"Kind... Little cousin..." She said, her Common hesitant and rolling roughly off her tongue. "...Defender of *Jotogek seku*. Name?"

The dryad pointed to herself, then gestured to both Lohmar and Nargul. "Nura. You?" She asked simply.

Translation: || "Goddess Alynthi, mother of myself and my People." "...Defender of giant friend."||
Edward
*He watched the process carefully, forearms rested over his knees as he sat against the edge of the fountain. Magic flowed around the Nymph as freely as the water behind him, as it all went on, and it did catch his curiosity enough to keep a stare. His expression was muted, for now - he's seen many acts, but there was something amiacable there, opposed to how he saw most sorcerers. No- this wasn't some act of selfish obsession, this was just an expression of self, in a way. So, he nodded to nothing, to himself, a question answered in his mind that he never spoke.*

*When the figurine was offered back, Nargul's eyes opened just wide enough for his impressment to be apparent. He enjoyed his craft, but there were certain details that his fingers couldn't reproduce, no matter how carefully he placed the whittle. Turning it over, and over, he gave the creation its due of appreciation, seeing the gods- even the one of his home's foes- as revered idols. Carefully, it was placed in a gilded bag with some cushioning, among the other figurines.*

"Well made. She looks strong." *He says to Nura- a curious word perhaps, for the beauty and grace that statuette emanated, but perhaps Nargul's tone implied well to Nura well that truth belief behind their language barrier: The Orc saw strength in more than just might and power - it was a matter of poise and purity in image to him, as well.*
Gary
*The Wolf stood and walked over. Even as it sat patiently on its haunches, it was likely able to loom over the blooming, smiling Nymph. It paid close attention to the spirit- curious himself of the talking tree, as it had long heard the whispers between the other trees, or seen glimpses of the coy, clever little things that lived in their shadows and in the air around them.*

*Lohmar tilted his head down, and then back up, implying his amulet. It was a sizable symbol of Anthron, though stylized in a master's hand by a wood whittle into something like a wolf.*

*It seemed that the wolf himself had been brought into the Orc's faith, though at the mention of Galadriel, Lohmar's head dipped as well after a moment of recognition. Quiet the clever one, this wolf. And a warrior as well. Inspection and intuition both would lead to that conclusion; everything about how the wolf held itself spoke to its relationship with the Orc. They were companions in arms, in travel, and the wold would look not out of place with a sword in its maw as well, in a silly little vision. Though, he had his own unseen blades: a row of sharp fangs.*
Edward
*On the Nymph's question, Nargul looked up from the shuffling he was doing, as he took a nearly-finished statue and his sharp whittle, beginning to hone himself to the task of finishing it. A gift for a gift, before he and the Nymph parted.*

*He pointed to himself.* "Nargul. Far from home. Far away. Lost- Searching." *He says, with an almost humored tone to it, as he found the simplicity of the terms he used truthful in a way that bit at him, momentarily.*

*He pointed at Lohmar, for a moment.* "Lohmar. "Heart," In Orcish. He is young, still."