Elf

Upon the grass knelt I,
beside the rippling water.
Upstream, downstream,
the distance drew mine eye.

Where are they?

The breeze loosed a sigh,
the birds sang a joyous song.
Nature took its normal course,
yet worried still was I.

It has been too long.

Finally, a speck drew nigh,
first one sail to crown the horizon,
then three, then five, then
even was clear the sails' dye.

Have they returned?

Mine heart was lifted thereby,

It was cold on the beach, and Seronaer’s breath misted before her. She sat huddled with her mother, terrified to leave her side should she lose her. She had lost so much already. They had left their home, the familiar white streets and tall towers where flowers and light were in abundance. Now, they sat in darkness on the cold, desolate beach, looking out over the furious sea and awaiting the return of their kin.

Ynel takes a breather below the cliff, after sliding it down. She looks ahead, and around, and listens. No ghostly sighs. No gloaming wights in sight. She spends there a moment to gather her thoughts after the previous fright and compromize.