"After the Exalted March on the Dales," Myr's voice is quiet, even, a lid over his own emotions on the matter, "it wasn't meet to have Our Lady accompanied by one of the enemy. So they docked his ears and struck his Canticle from the Chant--and the rest followed.

"We're their brothers--"

He cuts the words and the anguish behind them short. Let Nari put some voice to it instead--Myr catches only the name of the Halla-mother in all the elvhen, but the sentiment isn't lost on him. A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob sticks in his throat.

"Polite company. We learn to not make fusses early on, in the Circles." It got you noticed.