"Elrond, the master of the house was their chief. He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer."
- The Hobbit, Chapter III: A Short Rest
By the fifth day of observing, Harriet had come to several conclusions. First, the shorter people were definitely guests. They simply did not fit in with the cleanliness, the natural beauty of the city within which they were currently visiting.
Second, she found all the singing to be mildly annoying. As a hawk, her hearing was rather good and she was rather tired of it all.
Third, she was quite certain these new creatures, tall in form, strong in stature, and light of foot, were of a wholly different race than the group she was following. Likewise, she was now certain the group she was following was composed of several different races, one of which felt vaguely of magic. However, in a way that she couldn't quite put her finger on, the magic wasn't right, he wasn't quite right.
Sure, they all seemed friendly enough from afar but she had yet to meet any of them properly.
Gathering her courage, she flew in close, and gracefully took up a familiar perch on a familiar wooden rail in an increasingly familiar room in an increasingly familiar place.
"I see you have returned, friend." Elrond moved with grace on light feet toward the hawk that had taken to resting on the veranda of his study. Quietly, he offered the bird a thin strip of meat he had taken to keeping in a bowl by his desk. "Tell me, will you stay long here?"
Harriet didn't understand a word the tall, noble looking, pointy eared man was telling her but when he gently began running his fingers through her feathers, she leaned into the touch.
"I can only wonder at your presence amongst us but you are welcome to rest well while you are here."
The snack certainly helped.