@trashmage-extraordinaire
The elders of the clan talked about the humans in hushed voices, never referring to them by name, so not to alert the elflings, most likely. But Solival noticed.
“Hahren, who are you talking about?”
Zathrian pursed his lips, then ruffled Solival’s hair. The elfling squeaked.
“They’re nothing to worry about, da’enasal. Stay inside the camp, okay?”
“Okay.”
The very next night, Solival snuck away from camp. Two of the hunters, Llevorn and Marin, chuckled to each other, and neither noticed the creeping shadow that passed behind their backs. And Solival wandered far, farther from camp than he’d ever been before, passing silently over upturned root and past sleeping bears.
The moon was high overhead when the elfling found them. The nothing to worry abouts. Rather, he heard them first, with loud and brash voices that sounded nothing like Zathrian. Watching them from behind a fern, the elfing waited. They didn’t look like Zathrian either. They were all blue and silver and hairy. Two of them laughed at something Soli didn’t hear. He wrinkled his nose.
