It has been a thousand years since the beginning of the siege on Castle Iguldor, can the massive army break through its walls, or will they fail?
"I prefer to stay hidden amongst the wolves...they are family to me..." She said, a slight growl in her voice. She bent low and then stroked her large wolf's fur gently, and she said something to the wolf in a different language. "The wolves are my messengers, my friends, my family, and my way of life..." She growled.
“I’ve grown up in this forest my entire life, except for when I travelled to bring money to the Grove. I’ve gone between the Elven Kingdom hidden in the east of this forest to the Human civilizations to the south and the north. Never once have I seen you before. And I have lived here for many, many years.” He glowered at her, angry at the boldness she showed, claiming to be friends of the Elven Lord, his father.
“Die here or not, I will not have the human war taint this forest. So leave. The only humans allowed to reside here are the ones welcomed by the Grove, and have nothing more than the welfare of the land in their hearts.”
"Strange...I was once welcome in this forest, I was friends with the Elven king..." She said, not budging a single step. "Why should I leave? My home is the forest...I was raised in this forest, and I'll be damned if I don't die here!" She said impatiently.
A fey? That was an excellent question. Was he fey? Could he be considered that? He was only a half-breed. But he was a creature of this forest, as were his family. He continued to study this warrior as she put her weapons away. He blinked slowly, once, before reaching a hand up to his face. He grasped the mask he kept over his feature and pulled it off, revealing the face underneath. It was you, but with that ageless quality. Like he had seen far too many winters, but couldn’t be more than his early twenties. His hood fell back, and he brought a hand up underneath his hair to pull it out from the cloak. It shown a beautiful color of mossy green, with just a touch of flaxen gold at the roots, much like the trees above going from late spring and into the beginning of summer, like the sunlight filtering through the trees.
“I am not Fey. At least, not truly. I am a Spring Child. I am the son of an Elf and a Dryad. Please. Leave. I do not like trespassers. And that is what you are here.”
"You may say that I would fare well if I leave..." She said, then put her blade away. "You look like a fey...is that what you are?" She asked.
He noticed her presence a hair after she saw him. Perceptive thing. It was a human, a knight, perhaps. She stood a little ways down the path from him, her sword drawn and bared. He shot a covert look at Syrreth that the tiger ignored before turning to look again at the human. He was not surprised to find that immediate dislike color his voice as he replied.
"This is my forest, and you would do well to leave before it refuses to let you do so." He had spent many years protecting this forest. Many years protecting the glade with his mother and her sisters where they were rooted. Many years guarding all that this land had to offer. He refused to let the human taint destroy his birthplace. "As for what I am...? Well, that is nothing to concern yourself with. Leave. Now."
The woman heard the voice of the fey, her ears as sensitive as a bat's. "Who's there?" She said. She drew her blade and stood, poised to strike if necessary. "Show yourself!" She shouted. She then stumbled across the fey who had spoke, and saw the tiger. "What are you?" She said inquisitively.
He sat quietly, in the forest, listening to the breathing of the great beast beside him. Humans. Always fighting. The shedding of blood and the rending of flesh. Why is it that humans could do nothing but fight? The Fey had learned long ago that fighting would tear apart the world. The other races too. Why was it so hard for the humans to get it through their thick skulls? He growled and turned away from the battle ground. The scent of blood and death was not something he liked to immerse himself in. The figure stalked away into the undergrowth, his green and brown clothing smoothly blending in with the foliage.
What could he do about this? Wars are stupid. They are idiotic and destructive. They tear families and nations apart, friends and brothers trying to kill each other. He could hear the soft steps of the creature, a hulking tiger, behind him. He would get away from this war zone and come back another time. Maybe once the blood shed is done and over with. He rested a hand on the tiger. It huffed at him, letting him know about her impatience.
“Yes, yes, I know. I can’t do anything to stop it, though.” A small growl from the tiger. “Will you stop that, Syrreth? I can’t do anything about it. So stop pushing.” There was a soft huff from her as she turned and walked ahead of him. “...oversensitive...”
The sound of war was a sound all too familiar to a lone female warrior, Wolfona. "This siege has been raging for years..." She said quietly, her blade shining in the light.
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