"Perhaps it ought to be fashioned, indeed! For the greeting we have all received was hardly filled with pleasantries," Bill snorted just then, nudging Legolas's with his muzzle. Asking for a snack that Legolas didn't have quite yet. Soon, though, soon he would make sure to procure something for the both of them and for his father, and he said as much in Sindarin, a quiet murmur as he stroked down the pony's head. Another snort was all the response, but Bill did not wander off in search of food.

"He is well, merely grouchy a touch— it has been too long since his last snack," then turning back to the stranger, Legolas offered a small bow with his introduction, his hand resting over his heart, "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil." His mouth quirked into a more mirthful grin, then: "Now so the exchange may be complete, will I have yours?"