Dynaviir looked away. This was unfortunately one of the most awkward conversations he had ever had. What could he have said?
"Th-there isn't much to tell," he stuttered, sounding almost like Niniel for a moment. "I am from Anfalas, though my father often visited Minas Tirith, and I later moved to Penneth Gelin as a child. Though later I went to serve for the Gondorian army during the war. Now I am a ranger of the South, protecting the people from dark tidings, though few know it."
He relaxed a little, then added, "I wished to meet the Dunedain, but I have yet to meet one in my travels." He stopped talking there and fell silent. He didn't want to go into details about his past, but he knew the names of his homes wouldn't do as a valuable history. But then what else was there to say, other than about his father... his past...
He moved his hand to the top of his cloak and there he seemed to hold something, although it was hidden by his cloak. As he did so he looked down. Then he let it go and turned back to Niniel, and pushed the thoughts aside.
"What is it like up here? To live in such a peaceful place as the Shire? Or... I'm sorry, I didn't ask you where you stay. Do you live here in the Shire?"
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