He smiles, in spite of the cold, and lets out a soft, breathed laugh. "It is true," he replies in the same language, unable to suppress the smile. "A memory of you came to me today, when we met. Nay -- not of you, of one named Thorin. I was unsure of how to begin to speak of it." He is careful to use plain language -- not out of any condescension, but in the interest of clarity.