"Well, you're the lady who speaks to flowers!" He smiles at her. "It's a little harder to speak to stone, tis true, but these came from my father's forge, and they have dwelt with me for many a long year. They know me, and I know their Song very well. One just needs to ... encourage the Song to fall back into the patterns of it's past. Much easier than trying to get a whole new one to do something it's never done before."

His smile is wry, a little sad, maybe. "Mm. We had armor and banners and heraldry, of course. But since we had to braid anyway... it was a useful designation."

Also, the enemy had a fondness for leaving only heads behind, and the braids were a way to get at least SOME news home - which is not something he wants to say to her.