We are at war. There will be scars.

He finds her knowledge of the wild things oddly comforting. He likes to know that she knows the Chamber will be able to rebuild itself, that the flowers and the plants will be able to knit their way across the damaged ground, that the scorched earth will heal itself and grow whole once more. He likes to know all these things, and because she sounds so confident about it all he's just inclined to trust her.

Trust her opinions about regrowth. He doesn't trust the girl herself any further than he can throw her, and being that they're both horses that is really just not very far at all.

She offers him a trade – knowledge of the volcano for knowledge of the trees and flowers. He considers it a more than fair trade; after all, anyone could go find the volcano, but it takes special knowledge to understand the flowers and the plants and the trees. "Done." he says, easily enough. "And as for what grows in the Chamber now, you can see for yourself. We'll need to go through there to reach the volcanos."

He pauses for a moment, watching the girl, wondering how much he should say. "The Chamber is surrounded by mountains on one side, and many of them are apparently volcanic." There is the slightest edge of hesitation in his voice, as though he's a little unsure of what he's saying. There is nothing there that she couldn't have found out by common knowledge, but he is still wary somehow. Not afraid, but wary.

"How do you know that the Chamber's trees and plants will grow again?" he remembers when he'd left home, how the skeletons of burnt pines had stood sentinel, their branches like harsh fingers clawing against the dark sky. He smiles then. "I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Perhaps it's best to start with the names."

Erebor

Native Prince of the Chamber

warship x straia