Eryndil was happy that her mood was somewhat improving. Normally Eryndil would take offense to people laughing at his hair, but this time he had revealed it for that sole purpose.
"From the trees.... You are an Elf, yet you come from the trees? Please explain this to me." Araréiel said as she touched his hair to test its authenticity. Galendor sat for awhile without reply - as if he was digging deep into memory. "Ah yes!" He exclaimed, "there was a song the ents made for me many years ago when I was born in Fangorn. I believe it went like this:"
Hail! The elven son of trees
who roams the woods as he may please,
In Fangorn did the young elf lie,
beside his mother who had died.
Grief we held, lament we feel
for the child Eryndil.
His Father dead, alone and scared
the shepards of the forest cared.
To the child was taught the lore
of Middle-Earth and times before.
He refused to dress in naught but green
Of other forests he had dreamed
So we let him leave but with our mark,
His hair would fare as green and dark.
In colors of our leaves he left, our green lord,
Hail! Eryndil son of trees! Hail, Galendor!
Eryndil ended with a stare as if he was gazing through his own heart which lay far beyond. His nostalgia was short, and he turned to Araréiel, "I hope that answers your questions my lady. Now, tell me more of your sad story- if it does not dishearten you - for I would like to help any way I can." He smiled and waited.