DM:
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Feddin pauses, tapping the wall to think. He speaks, choosing to use elven instead in hopes that the meaning of his words would make more sense. He spokes as slowly as he can, making a point to gesture as well without seeming condescending at least. "Amin auta ie'yeste'kalina. Nan'... manka lle irma amin il auta, lle kwentra amin." He smiles warmly, reaching up and gingerly placing a hand on hers.
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Translation: I am leaving at first light. But... if you want me to stay, you tell me.