[Éowyn smiles, her own eyes half-closed.]

The tales of our ancestors. Of Léod King's death in taming wild Felarof, of the Battle of the Field of Celebrant, and the Oath of Eorl...

And other carvings more abstract: of horses running, and birds in flight, and many other things. Trees and flowers wind along the lintel of some doors.

[She laughs.]

And beneath the rim of the sill on the kitchen window, my cousin Théodred carved his name, but I think few have seen that addition.