“There is nothing a resourceful elf cannot master,” Erestor said with satisfaction, when the odd contraption he had rigged proved to be working.
“Hm?” Glorfindel looked up from his gloomy introspection.
Their camping trip had started so well. Both had been eager to leave the hot city behind for a few days, finding solitude, good fishing, and cool water to bathe in a hidden bay of the gulf. But all seemed for naught when Glorfindel managed to drop their tent overboard on the ferry ride over the gulf. Camping without was out of the question, though; as soon as the sun would set the mosquitos would eat them alive.
Erestor had not been deterred, though, and now he presented a very oddly-shaped substitute, quickly laced together from their fishing rods, rickety-looking bundles of reeds, and most of their clothes. It did not look even remotely like a tent, but seemed spacious enough, and considering Erestor’s usual thoroughness, it would certainly protect them well.
“Did you leave us something to dress in?” Glorfindel asked drily.
“There is no need.” Erestor grinned, tying the entrance, which consisted of Glorfindel’s favourite purple tunic, close. “We will just sleep in the nude.”