Tales of a traveling elf

Over hill and vale, river and valley, nothing impeded the fastest elf on the continent. Blue hair streaming from his head like a streamer, Stallion kept a measured pace, blessed with mostly clear weather at the start of fall. A little more than two weeks out found the elf in the Dunan Republic, heading toward the northern edges of Toran.

Thick trees marked the latest obstacle needing to be conquered. Trails seemed nearly non-existent, so Stallion slowed his pace to a trot, ears pricked for any sound. Birdsong and leaves rustling accompanied him, but for all he knew, he was the only person --- elf or human or otherwise ---- in the wild wood.

That is, until he heard the shrill scream split the air. Startled, the elf stopped where he stood, ears trying to focus on the sound. Spirits, did a hawk catch a rabbit?

There! Again, that scream. A high pitched wail sounding less like a rabbit and more like a small child. There's a child in the wood? Perhaps separated from parents in a village? Trotting forward, the elf picked a path in the undergrowth to where he thought he'd heard the sound.

A huge four-footed slab of fur and muscle leaped for a tree. Without pausing to consider the sanity of his actions, the elf sprinted forward. The Godspeed-aided shoulder to the ribs threw the wolf much further than any human. “Go on! Get away!” Stallion yelled, waving his hands. The wolf considered him for a moment before disappearing into the woods.

“Yikes.” Ears pricking upward, the messenger elf looked up at the tree. “Hey, you're all right now! That wolf's gone.”

Something child sized seemed to peek through the thick leaves.

“Don't be afraid,” Stallion said, soothing. He gestured all around him. “See? He's all gone. It's safe.”

Squirrel quick, the child seemed to slide down the trunk of the tree to land with a thump on unshod feet. “Oh, you made him go away!”

Stallion blinked. His Common tongue had been answered in the lilting language of the elves. It made sense, considering the speaker was an elf like himself.

Soft fluffy green hair, the color of leaves at high summer, framed the child's face in unkempt waves, stopping just before the shoulders. Green eyes of a lighter green, the color of grass at summer's end, looked up at him curiously. Overly large pointed ears poked out from the waves of hair.

Dirt smudged the child's face and hands. The overly patched tunic and pants seemed in bad need of a wash as well. No boots adorned his feet, but for an elf in the forest, footwear became optional, not necessary.

With elf children, it wasn't necessarily apparent which gender they belonged to, as both boys and girls looked like wild little spirits of the forest. But as Stallion gave the child a once over, noting absently at the sharpened cheekbones on the face, he got the impression this ball of green fluff seemed a boy.

“Where are you parents?” Stallion asked, switching back to the tongue of his birth.

The boy looked down at his dirty feet, scrunching up dirt with his toes. “Mother said I had to stay here.”

“To stay right here?”

“Yes. She said not to move from the tree. So I stayed here.”

“Ah. Where did your mother go?”

The boy child pointed beyond to the woods. “To the river. To fish. Can you hear it?”

Without the distraction of a large wolf looking for a snack, Stallion's hearing finally picked up the sound of running water. “Mother says I always have to listen to what she says.”

“You've been very good then, waiting here.” The messenger elf crouched down, more at child level. “What's your name?” At the nearly incomprehensible slide of sound, Stallion mentally decided to call the boy Greenfluff for now. Why some elves chose to saddle their children with pretentious names, he didn't know.

Reaching into his travel pack, the elf pulled out the last bit of Kinnison's beef jerky. “Here. Why don't you have this? I'm sure it's been hungry work sitting here all this time.”

Greenfluff drooled a little, but inexplicably didn't take the food. “Will the elders be mad if I take this food?”

What an odd question. “Of course not. I'm sure it's all right.”

“Do you promise?”

Inwardly, Stallion frowned. Untrustworthy little thing. Although I don't know how civil I'd be, waiting in the woods for a long time waiting for my mother. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” Eagerly, the boy took the food, gnawing on it hungrily.

Stallion stood up, turning in the direction of the water. “I'm going to go look at the water. You keep on being a good ball of fluff and wait there. I'll be right back.”

Greenfluff paused in his feast, almost laughing aloud. But in the time between one breath and two, the child fought back the laugh, attention back on eating.

This is certainly shaping up to be an odd day. And if he's telling the truth about his mother, I have a very bad feeling of what happened to her, Stallion thought to himself.