She nods slowly, accepting this. She will ask her own people for the names, later; will visit the wounded as soon as she may to offer what strength and comfort she can. "I thank you for your efforts, Lord Caranthir," she says, her Sindarin stiff and stilted but otherwise good. Her voice is still low-pitched but has a more musical tone to it now that she is no longer choked with exhaustion and spent battle-lust. "And I thank you also for the loan of--I assume--your sleeping quarters. Which you now seem greatly to need, so I return them to you, and suggest you make use of them before you fall over like a felled tree."

Haleth, clearly, is not a woman to mince words or waste time.