<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Elora</span></span></div><br/><br/>Elora listened intently for Dherune's reply, righting herself so to maintain her lady-like composure. Her uncle, the king, boomed at his response and slapped him good-heartedly on the back, turning to face Elora.<br/><br/>"My lovely niece, here, can escort you to our castle Maester who will be able in assisting you with sending your message," he said as he swooped a hand across to indicate where Elora stood. The giddiness felt in her stomach made her feel a bit dizzy, but she simply gave a slight curtsy and avoided the elf's gaze.<br/><br/>"I'd be honored," she said, smiling softly. She didn't look at him, although she could see in her peripheral that Dherune was approaching her. When he was next to her she turned around and began walking, glancing up at him quickly and then back to the ground and she continued to smile to herself. Her hands were clasped together in front of her as she led Dherune around the castle to a set of stair. The dry grass in this area crunched underneath her shoes, her dress brushing against the ground as they walked. Elora had so many questions in mind, and yet, she was at a total loss for words. What do you say to an elf? What is considered rude? Are they easily offended and uptight or relaxed and easy going? The more she thought, the more nervous she became, and the more prudent she felt to keep quiet. As they got to the stairs, she started up then, turning to look down at him.<br/><br/>"Maester Aevor is just up this way. He spends most of his time in his quarters reading, or with the birds." She turned back around and started back up the stairs, lifting her dress so not to trip. She led him to a thick yet small wooden door and knocked hard. Elora heard shuffling of papers and the legs of a chair scraping against the ground, and before long the door opened. An old, short, thin man opened the door dawning the robes of a Maester.<br/><br/>"Ah, Elora my dear," he rasped stepping forward to clasp her hands in his, "how good of you to visit-...ah, I see you have not come alone."<br/><br/>Elora stepped aside so that Dherune was visible. "Maester Aevor, this is Sir Dherune Shezbaernon of White Tower, he has asked to use one of the birds to send a message to the White Tower."<br/><br/>The Maester became very cheery indeed, an odd bounce visible in his step as he turned and beckoned them to follow. "Oh yes, yes please come in. I have just cleaned their quarters and fed them this morning. I know just the perfect bird to send, too, trustworthy and strong, he-"<br/><br/>The old man continued to mutter compliments to the said bird as he propelled them along towards the bird room. Elora turned around and smiled almost apologetically for the Maester. He was old, and loved new company and couldn't resist talking someone's ear off. He was the closest thing to a grandfather she's ever known.<br/><br/>"Right this way," he called over his shoulder and he opened another door leading to the birds. The room was not very large, about the size of a decent pantry, and had multiple open windows and shelves upon shelves with little nests. Bird droppings were already starting to accumulate again, despite the Maester's cleanings, but remnants of fresh food and water were very evident.<br/><br/>"You may have your pick of any bird that suites your needs, Sir Shezbaernon, but I highly recommend this one here." Maester Aevor shuffled his way over to a sleeping white owl speckled with black dots. He poked the owl gingerly until it's eyes shot open, neck extending and turning awkwardly to peer at the group that rudely interrupted its sleep.<br/><br/>"This here is Talat," he said with a smile, but the bird was quite perturbed and snapping its beak gently at the Maester's fingers. "He is the best flyer here, and the smartest." The old man smiled brightly as he stroked the owl's head, its feathers ruffling up every time he did so.