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"Why do dwarves say they come from the Stone?" Velanna asked.
Sigrun considered messing with her, but Velanna was so earnest that she had to take pity. "Most dwarves are born underground. It's where our ancestors lived, and where they died."
Velanna nodded thoughtfully. "That's what the trees are to us: a connection to our origins. You wouldn't go around sniffing rocks, would you?"
There had been that one with the foresty-smelling moss growing on it, but if Velanna hadn't seen that, Sigrun wasn't going to tell on herself. Instead, she went on the offensive. "So elves come from the trees? Maybe that's why you're so pretty, Velanna!"
"Y-you..." Velanna coughed to cover her stutter. It wasn't very convincing. "You really like... trees... don't you? More than you ever liked your Stone, it seems."
Uh-oh. What was this all of a sudden? "I think it's more that the Stone didn't like me. I can't blame her."
"I can! If your Stone doesn't appreciate you, you should stay up here with... the trees."
Oh: more trying to convince her to live. Sigrun was already dead, of course, but Velanna was so earnest that she had to take pity. "Maybe I should."