<b>Pegawen bid the old wizard good eve, and watched as Lotharn escorted him out of the room. In the brief silence that followed, she attempted to sort through everything that had happened. Logic, after all, was the better course of wisdom. And her logic was telling her that the wizard was not being completely forthcoming – whether by choice, or because he lacked information, she wasn't sure. <br/>
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Lotharn's statement broke her thoughts and she blinked and shook her head. From the raised brow she wondered if it'd been the first time he spoke, as it was not uncommon for her to lose herself in whatever was on her mind. “I have a great many things I should wish to speak with you on – such as why you have chosen to remain when so many of our kin sail west, how you came to be here. Those are of lessor importance just now,” She idly waved her hand as if brushing a web from her face. “Of more immediate concern is, what do you make of this Timberlane? What does he really want?”</b><br/><br/>“<b>I can't help but think,” Allassiel offered from her perch, “that Saruman was also a great wizard, and spoke falsehoods in the name of Mordor. Many died because of him.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Exactly.” Pegawen paced the small space in front of Lotharn, her golden hair swaying against her shoulders with each step. “What cause have we, truly, to trust him?” She fell silent and chewed on her lip.</b><br/><br/>“<b>Well, if we're to discuss this matter, first I shall go down and purchase wine for us.” Allassiel slid lightly to the floor and retrieved one of her daggers, sliding it beneath her tunic. She eyed Lotharn. “Pegawen prefers red wine, and you?”</b>