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He sendeth me the signal I have awaited, red flames that stain the clouds even as blood had stained the shores. Horrible waste to destroy such craftsmanship, and for this irreparable loss churneth my stomach with grief, but by what other means could a message have reached me here across the sea? Finwë Nolofinwë, who had derided him, saying that he cared not for our father but only for his jewels; verily such words I spake to defame him whom I account unfit to be the Noldoran.
He burneth the ships. Burneth he the ships that I, anticipating this selfsame treachery, had wished to take for myself were they not fully-manned—a wish I spake to none, not even Findekano, though it danced in my dreams, darkling as inky shadows beneath the creeping mists.
Ever have we danced, Serindion and I, clasping hands but never holding, pulling apart but never deserting, yielding only to later take.
The flames rise, fell and hungry, and hungry ariseth mine ire. I shall follow thee, Curufinwë-brother, as swore I to do, I shall wreak my vengeance against our Foe, and I shall meet thee anon, yea, though it cost me dearly I shall meet thee.