"There's something different on the wind." Aerwen said. I looked at her, felt the cool breeze.
"That is true. Humans. I feel them." I stabbed my iron-tipped wooden staff into the ground. "They should not be coming here. We have maintained isolation from them for so long." The breeze whipped my long black hair into a frenzy. I dragged a black ribbon from the leather pouch on my belt and pulled my hair up into a ponytail.
"We knew that it's been coming for a long time," she looked at me calmly. "The Elders predicted it when we left so long ago."
"I was only a babe then. Just born. I do not remember it." But I wish I could remember it. I project resentment for the human race, but I have always ached to see the land of Aerithna even though I hate the humans. For now, I roam the dark, leafy forests of Gyra, patrolling the perimeters and keeping out ones not accepted.
Few dared to challenge me. I was young, for an Elf still, but my appearance, tall and fierce, intimidated many. I act cold to everyone but few, to which I am gruff but friendly.
I didn't particularly like talking to Aerwen all the time because she was so pretty and calm and nice. I wasn't so lucky as her. I do not think I could be decribed as beautiful because I looked too fierce to even be noticed as "pretty".
I retrieved my wooden staff and continued my long patrol through the wood, not letting Aerwen have a chance to answer me. Many knew I was bitter; the loss of my family had been awful. Everyone agreed.
The song of birds did not move my aching heart. The delicate, pure scent of fresh dewy roses did not make me happy. I noticed few pleasantires and luxuries; they are not always needed. I did not have such luxuries as friends when the brutal death of my parents and older brother ocurred. They were found slaughtered in the wood one day, many, many years ago. My path wandered nearer to the ocean, which was the only place I truly felt at peace. I loved to sit alone among the vast amounts of sand, thinking how each tiny grain of sand joined together with much more just to make the place I sat on. I was oddly humbled by these little things.
Eventually I knew the time for mental rest was over, and I could not delay my patrol much longer. But the coming humans stressed me. . Everyone suspected my family had been killed by humans. How would we greet them? Or would we greet them at all? Not all humans were friendly, I knew this for sure. My family had been most open to the coming of humans. I had been too, until they had been killed. Now I theorized the arrival of nothing was much better than the alternative. Peace could be kept if no one new came. Wars would spring up, I predicted this. Humans are nothing but trouble, believe me.
I loathe the humans.