Finrod, sensing Lyra's unease in the tranquility of the night, spoke up amidst the crackling fire and the soothing sounds of the river. The moon hung high, casting its silvery glow on their surroundings.

"You want some company, Lyra?" he offered, weariness evident in his voice but overridden by a genuine concern. The beauty of the night indescribable, creating a tense yet strangely serene atmosphere.

The fire whispered tales of both warmth and uncertainty as he awaited Lyra's response, the night holding its breath in the midst of their shared solitude.