As you approach the bridge, olive branch in hand, three figures emerge from the trees, all of them elves, all carrying bows, longswords belted to their hips. Their bows however are not cocked with arrows, merely held in their hands. Their attitude is of obvious surprise and curiosity. The tallest of them is a blond haired male. He raises a hand in greeting with a smile. "Welcome strangers. It is obvious from your attempt at observing tradition and good manners, that you are not from Elestial."
Obviously amused he beckons you to cross the wide and sturdy bridge. As you do he adds: "It is well you took the branches from that side of the Brook and not from within the Sildaine. Our trees do not take kindly to the sharp edge of a blade. And it is tradition to look after our trees with fierce pride. A tradition we happily continue. Perhaps next time when you make such an offering of peace you could find a fallen branch that still bears a leaf. A more difficult task, but one that ensures such an offering well met. A single twig with a single leaf is enough, strangers."
At which point you reach the other side of the bridge. The tall elf extends his open hand. "I am Helfaine. Speak your name and your purpose and let us be strangers no more."
You see that there are at least another three elves on each side of the road, obviously making no attempt at remaining hidden, as you imagine seeing them would be no mean feat. None of them stand aggressively, though on some of their faces you can sense a distinct show of distrust and reservations at the warm welcome you are being afforded, particularly by a hooded woman resting upon a knotted staff, teeth bared.