This choice: Kealos, a male elf suspicious of humans. • Go Back... As a bright summer day’s sun colors the elven forest a yellowed green, Kealos leans against the bark of a large tree, while sitting on one of its high-up branches, a bright red apple trapped in his fingers. Being a more solitary elf, Kealos often decides to scout out the forest some distance away from his home village, Autumn's Rest, in a form of self-employed guard duty. Which is really just his way of getting away from everyone else, and enjoying some time to himself.
As he ponders how his sister Leifra must be doing on her adventure into the wider world of Wrivania, he brings the apple to his mouth and bites off a juicy chunk, which is quickly crunched and mashed between his prefect white teeth. ‘She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,’ he thinks. ‘But still, a world full of untrustworthy humans, who live in dead towns and cities, devoid of green, who would want to journey through such a dull, unwelcoming world?’
He swallows the bite, and leans his head back against the tree, letting his soft fair skin bathe in the sunlight, as it shines through his long, golden hair, and accents the shadows of his sharp angular face. There he lays, in his natural habitat, a tall, femininely elegant man of the green woods. He listens to the sounds of the wild; the whistling of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the scampering of forest critters, when suddenly, something alien interrupts that familiar soundscape. That of footsteps. A solitary pair of footsteps, too heavy and lumbering to be from an elf.
His ethereal blue eyes shoot open, and he slowly climbs to his feet, looking around the forest floor, as his pointy ears twitch, trying to find the exact direction from which the sound originates. He jumps off his branch, onto another, as he begins to maneuver through the trees with such agile elegance, that the sounds and disruption he makes, are too subtle for any human to be warned of his approach.
Perched high above, Kealos spots the stranger. A young human man with messy brown hair, wearing the dirty clothes of commoner, with the hilt of a sword sticking out from a scabbard carried on his back. The elf frowns, recognizing how handsome the stranger’s square face and study frame would be it if it weren’t packaged in such a pitiful human wrapping. ‘Stupid human, interrupting my alone time,’ he sneers, quietly whispering to himself.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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