“You’re not… ‘human tail.’ You are so much more than that,” he calls after me. I don’t want to, but my feet stop walking as part of me wants, no, needs to hear what he’s trying to say. I don’t turn, but my body is hyperaware of him and I can almost feel him taking small, stumbling steps towards me. “I-I’m not good at…this.”
You’re so much more than that. His words circle through my mind
“At what?” I turn now, crossing my arms over my chest. I was right, he is taking unsteady steps towards me, wincing with each movement. Sighing, I take pity on him and march over, sliding my arm around his waist, careful not to touch his wound, and he drapes his arm over my shoulders. The link between us is practically humming at our proximity, but I ignore it and start half dragging Vaeril in the direction I had been walking.
“Talking,” he mutters, hobbling alongside me. “Even before I got captured I... You have to understand, in my culture, words are a weapon, and so much more is said with body language.” What he says makes sense, it also explains why he’s so quiet and almost examines me before he responds. I guess after a hundred years of being mostly silent, you’re going to be a bit rusty with communication. “Also, we’re going the wrong way.”
“Oh.” I stop and gaze around. Everything looks the same, how could he know where we need to go? “How do you know?”
“Look at the trees.” He points at the closest tree and I frown, not understanding what I’m looking at. “See that green lichen growing on one side of the trees?” Nodding, I glance at the others and see that most of the trees have the same, green, mossy type plant growing on the same side. “It likes to be moist, so it only grows on the north side of the trees. If you keep going that way, you will end up back in Arhaven.”
“Huh,” is all I can think to say. I let him steer us in the right direction and we begin walking again. Tilting my head to one side, I roll my eyes up to look at his face. “Is this kind of knowledge common among high elves?”
“High elves, we’re a prideful lot, and we’re known for our knowledge and our many libraries,” he tells me, keeping his gaze straight ahead as we walk. Everything he’s saying makes sense, and I feel like I’m getting to know him with each word he speaks.
“Our library is one of our greatest and most valued buildings in Galandell.” He talks with pride now, and I can’t imagine how this all must feel for him, returning home after so many years. Will much have changed, or will it all be as he remembered it? “However, I did spend a few years with a couple of wood elves.” He meets my gaze, that half smile of his back in place.
Jealousy fills me. I can only imagine what he was doing to fill his time with the wood elves. You have no business being jealous. There is nothing between the two of you, and even if there was, that would have been before you were even born! my mind points out, and I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but burying those feelings is easier said than done.
“How old are you?” I ask, trying to judge off his appearance. If he was human, he could get away with being in his late twenties, although he looks much younger when he stops frowning and actually smiles.
“I’m three hundred and forty-two.”
I stumble in shock.
“Mother above. You’re old!” Pulling him to a stop, I round on him and stare up at his face, looking for any signs of wrinkles or ageing. He frowns at me before pulling me back to his side.
“I am still young amongst my people!” He sounds outraged, and I can’t stop my giggle. Him. Offended. Good, he deserves it after how he acted earlier. “My grandfather will be nearing his thousandth birthday soon.” My eyes widen at the thoughts of living that length of time.
“Your population must be huge if you all live that long.” I think back to the handful of times I’ve been through the city of Arhaven. There were people everywhere, and although he meant it in a derogatory way, Vaeril’s comparison to humans living like mites in a hive wasn’t far off.