A New Arrival

Nenloth sits alone on the river bank. It has been many a span since she had last seen her Brother, many more since she had last visited the order of the Calarind.

She sighs, leans forward and looks into the river beneath her.

Then in the reflection she sees one not of her own. It is the reflection of another... She turns quickly, startled but not fearful.

'Hello little bird...' A long haired elf man greets her; a warm smile spreads across his fine features.
For a long moment she stares up at him. They are locked in a wordless duel.

The stranger flashes amusement within his deep leaf green eyes and he offers a slender hand to the elf maiden but a long silence ensues and Nenloth makes no move to take his hand.

'There is a great wind dancing its way across an angry sky... But we are friends the wind and I, he says that he will wait a while.' The stranger stops, then simply smiling and rolling his eyes in an expressive and theatrical manner, he crouches down beside Nenloth. His garments rustle as he moves.  

Nenloth turns briefly from the man and looks up to the clouds above. He is right, the skies are darkening and soon there would be a storm. She frowns and then sighs with resignation.  

'I doubt we follow the same path' she says, quite simply. Slowly and deliberately she stands.

'Oh but little bird, I do so enjoy the wonders of nature. What better than to follow a little bird as she would fly to her nest.' He smiles again, Nenloth relaxes her tense and well travelled muscles.

'I am no bird...' She quirks an eyebrow. 'But YOU are a madman' She smiles ever so slightly.

'Ah, that I may be...' He muses for a moment, his face contemplative and still his mannerisms and gestures seem theatrical.

Nenloth is sure that the man is simply putting on a show.

'You can follow me if you like...' She turns to the grass where she had left her weapon, deftly and almost as though with the grace of a well trained dancer she has it within her hands within moments and then she stalks off into the nearby woodland.

The elf man smiles, the wind catches his loose and honey brown hair, sweeping it up and lifting it wildly about his face. He laughs, raising his arms and seeming as though to bathe in the slowly gathering winds.

Nenloth does not stop or even turn to realise that he is no longer following her and soon he is nowhere to be seen.

(I found this in an old sketch book. It's a shame for it to go to waste, it inspired me to write this little story! It gives me ideas for a character that I have in the making.)