Author's note: Dorinth PoV, mates. Enjoy!

The outskirts of the village finally came into sight, their beautiful magnificence untarnished since he last left the village, almost a week ago. Nothing seemed to have change in his absence, save for his own personality, perhaps. Eraniel, his best friend, had turned against him when he least expected, and he didn't know how to react when he would face the winged creature slayer once again. Would he feel angered by his actions and retaliate accordingly, breaking their friendship forever? Or would his regret for not trying to understand him better would come to the surface, like a drop of fish oil in a far too wide ocean of raging feelings.

He did not know, but neither his thoughts, nor his worries would hinder today's progress. The orange, dying sun was beginning its descent at the horizon, creating a beautiful speck of shades and colors on the clear evening sky. Traveling was the only thing he had done ever since his companion had abandoned him, walking through isolated and bush covered paths to conceal his presence from one danger that meant death from above. The perilous journey through hilltops, undergrowth and thorny bushes sacked most of his stamina, along with tearing his tunic and brown leather pants apart. However, the rugged leather outfit was not an immediate concern for the lone silver haired elf. His other, more desperate necessities such as food and water occupied a top priority into his mind, blurring his thoughts from anything else, except a particular thought that kept piercing through his mental defenses with restless vehemence.

After his panting subsided and legs losing their stiffness, the elf continued his walk through the forest while he uncomprehendingly stared at the wooden fence that surrounded the village of Taelmarlis. This was where his journey ended, the place where the same cuvant story has planted its vile roots, growing into ivy so thick that no friendly advice, no kind words would save his friendship with Eraniel. But it all belonged in the past now, a mere nuisance meant to pester the weak minded with dim hopes of restoration. Yet how would he be able to forgive the one who blatantly declared his undying resolution of chasing a fading dream, disallowing anyone else to guide him in his search?

A single sigh escaped the helpless elf whose mind inadvertently swayed towards the same subject. He was tired, too tired to keep pondering about it. During his seven days travel, Dorinth has lost the notion of time while he skillfully took advantage of the concealing shadows and the verdant trees to mask his presence from unwanted creatures. By the time he reached the plains, his provisions were all but gone, and lingering in open ground could mean death to him. To make sure the winged creature would not find him easily, he ran swiftly through the plains at night when his clothes blended in with the thick grass. His judgment and healthy calculations had helped him to reach Taelmarlis safe, a trait much needed among elves who wanted to become hunters. However, Dorinth never wanted to become a hunter, even if his aptitudes served him well.

As the two guards stationed on each side of the gate came into view, Dorinth had accelerated his pace, a feeling of happiness overwhelming him. For the first time in three days, he would finally have something to eat and clear water to drink. The guards threw him strange looks, but none of them tried to stop him from entering the village.

After so much time spent in the wilderness, Dorinth acquired a more savage look due to tiredness and lack of nutrition. His dust filled and ruffled silver hair was sprinkled with brown dots, while his bony cheek bones seemed to protrude out of his face due to tiredness. His azure eyes, however, have not lost any of their previous splendor and kindness, not even after an endless array of trials.

As he walked towards his house, he curiously glanced around at every elf that passed by him. Some of them lowered their head when his eyes would meet their, disturbed by either his looks or his inquisitive stare. The once boisterous and crowded village has degenerated into a silent haven as night approached, most of the elves searching for the comfort offered by their beds after a day's work. By turning left, Dorinth entered? the main path that was leading to the circular center of the village. The houses on each side of the road were big and impressive, but none of them belonged to him.

The numerous booths and the ever alarmed merchants were all but gone, leaving an empty hole into the heart of the village. With the Festival of Hunt coming to an end, every merchant loaded his wagon end left towards a distant village where their goods would attract many customers. The only exception was a lone booth where an agitated older elf frantically moved back and forth, cutting the sinewy meat with hard swings of a meat chopper. Even if an impressive pile of meat accumulated on the right side of the booth, no pleasant smell of cooked meat came from the tiny blaze that seemed to have no purpose, save for the heat it provided.

Having no other choice to sate his hunger, Dorinth moved towards the elf who turned around to face him, asking hurriedly, "Do you accept seasoning plants and herbs for a hearty piece of meat?" The butcher measured him with his stare and replied quickly, "I do not trade with the likes of you." His attention immediately shifted towards the meat and resumed his monotonous task. Disheartened by the negative answer, Dorinth calmly removed the knapsack from his back and emptied a bunch of pleasant smelling herbs on the booth, staring into the eyes of the butcher with a piercing glare. The merchant's face immediately lightened as he said with a pleasant tone, "Appearances, however, can be deceiving. What can I get for you, young hunter?" Dorinth's arm limply pointed towards a medium sized piece of meat, a faint whisper escaping his lips, "That one."

Without even looking back at him, the butcher put the meat on fire, and after it was cooked properly, he handled it to Dorinth, a most satisfied smile wrinkling his lips. The ravenous elf snatched the meat immediately and turned his back at the greedy elf. By the time he reached his small cozy dwelling, the elf was well fed and his water skin had been refilled from the central well. Lazily, he extended a hand to pull the door open. The wood creaked slightly and submitted to a greater force as the door stopped to the side. A smell of wood mixed with an old tint of dust greeted Dorinth as he took refuge from the cold night air into his cabin. Far from extravagant, the small house was parted into two unequal rooms. In the more spacious room, a round cedar table with an empty vine basket on it occupied the center along with two craftsman chairs dug under it. The pelts belonging to different animals decorated the wooden walls, offering it a rustic appearance. blab la descricion

With tiredness threatening to take over his senses, Dorinth shuffled towards a chest from which he pulled out a brown leather tunic and a pair of tan leggings. He immediately discarded the old tunic and leggings in a corner as he equipped the clean and whole clothes. Before the last trace of light vanished from the almost dark sky, the elf crashed onto his cot where he fell asleep shortly after.

The iridescent and warm rays of dawn crawled upon Dorinth's face through the window as the sun rose into the sky, announcing a new day. Uncomfortable with the blinding light that peeked at his eyelids, Dorinth covered his arm with his face, groaning annoyingly. Try as he might to return back to sleep, the harm has already done.

Grumpy because of his premature awakening, the elf muttered something under his breath and got onto his boots, swaying lightly on his unsteady feet. With half opened eyes, he shuffled towards the nightstand and sprinkled water across his numb face, the cold liquid rousing his senses from lethargy. It felt wonderful for Dorinth to have a proper meal and sleep comfortably in his bed after the adventure he had been a part of ever since Eraniel decided to chase a winged beast. Even if his legs were sore and ached, Dorinth yawned widely and stretched his body, bones popping as he did.

Feeling lazy and devoid of energy, he wanted to get back to sleep, but when he bended his body slightly to watch the position of the sun through the window, a jolt shocked him savagely. The sun is three palms up in the sky, and this day marks the ending of the Festival of Hunt! He thought, anxiety crawling up his stomach, knotting it with tension. Feverishly, he ran his hand through his shoulder-long silver hair and pushed the door open, smashing it slightly in his haste.

Outside of his cottage, there was little commotion, save for a few excited younglings that sparred with wooden sticks and yelled at each other like two mortal enemies. Such fervor put a smile on Dorinth's face as he walked towards the center of the village with a single purpose in his mind. Usually, the last day of the Festival of Hunt was celebrated with a big feast, a bountiful commemoration of the first hunter who has slain a wolvern and became king through his feat.

As his steps carried him closer to the circular center of the village, Dorinth realized that the preparation must have started before the sun penetrated the ominous darkness. Numerous tables have been put side by side to accommodate the number of elves, and an impressive number of chairs were laying underneath each table. Because the space was limited and the number of elves was significant, the medium sized tables were positioned in lines, each line being constructed by a table in the middle and two on each side of it, creating a compact mass of wood that would soon be filled with plenty of food.

Dorinth jerked to the left as two elves suddenly appeared behind him, carrying even more tables to complete a third line. By the looks of it, three lines was the best they could do, as the festivity required its own special place. The custom says that the most significant trophy would be impaled in a wooden stick in which the chosen hunter would carve his name, surrounded by blistering bonfires.

Only the ones that have earned the hunter title in the last celebration were allowed to organize the celebration this year while also providing the much needed meat for it through their skill. Because of that, the preparations were going slow, but a jittery and uneasy elf was constantly gesturing his indications, yelling often times to emphasize his irk with their effort. Dorinth frowned slightly when he realized that this unpleasant elf was the head hunter, leader of the Festival of Hunt. Among his different duties, it was his obligation to bear a list with the names of every young elf that wanted to become hunters. I wonder… he thought questioningly as he approached the head hunter with slow steps, trying to find the best way to address the older one.

He was wearing a simple black leather tunic and similar dark leggings, an outfit that looked far from extravagant. A wolf head rested above his hair as a symbol of his position, but it looked more uncomfortable than imposing and it shadowed the elf's facial features. Wanting not to disturb him, Dorinth approached from his side and nudged his arm slightly, obtaining a jolt of panic from the elf who immediately stopped the monotonous talk. The frown on his face and the glare in his eyes were signs that he appeared greatly disturbed by an interruption, but Dorinth returned him a similar stare and asked politely, "Good fortune, master hunter. May you lend me your aid with a matter of great importance for me?" His request caused his frown to deepen, and for a moment Dorinth was afraid that this elf would shoo him away. After lifting a hand in the air to an elf who looked at him questioningly, the head hunter's face lightened, the previous frown disappearing.

"My apologies, young hunter. This celebration has to live up to its past glory, and only I, through my vision and grandeur, can see that it is properly attended," he said proudly, holding his head high. Dorinth was put aback by his reply felt his thoughts meddling because of the elf's self esteem, but he quickly recovered his composure.

"I'm not a hunter, but my companion is and I would like to find out if he had returned in time for the trophy selection," he confessed. The head hunter narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow in bewilderment before he turned around and beckoned Dorinth to follow him. "Tragic is the fate of reckless younglings who overestimate their power. The way of the hunter is a witty one, young merchant." He mumbled in a low, almost inaudible voice while he carried Dorinth through the lines of tables as he headed towards one of the luxuriant and spacious houses. By now, a tinge of irritation began to grow inside of him as the head hunter associated a wrong profession to him once again. Just when he was about to open his mouth and confirm his sayings loud enough to make himself noticed, the head hunter reached the door and pulled it open, beckoning him to enter.

Dorinth complied and moved to the left when he entered the spacious yet dull room, allowing the hunter enough room without getting in his way. descricion la cum arata camera. Avea multe articole vanatoresti, arcuri si chestii pe perete, nush

"Many of our agile and bold soon-to-be hunters are missing, brave warrior. A disturbance occurred in the flow of the Festival of Hunt, and I fear that they might not return by nightfall." The saddened, yet solemn voice of the hunter sent chills that rippled through Dorinth's entire body. Shuddering involuntarily, he looked towards the scrolls on the table with insatiable curiosity and asked fearfully, "How many had failed to return?"

The hunter shifted his gaze towards the scrolls, "We will let them speak for us." While he was patiently searching through the musty scrolls, Dorinth felt a deep feeling of regret and sadness overcome him. His suspicions have been confirmed, yet he desperately wanted this elf's confirmation of the truth. Seeing that his slow and slightly trembling hands were not doing any progress, he said firmly, "Eraniel is his name." Then he was silent. This shocking information has taken him by surprise, as he always imagined Eraniel to possess the necessary skill to survive. When the prospect of never knowing what happened to his once good friend hit him, a foul mood darkened his soul, and Dorinth felt like securing into his hut and meditate on his thoughts were it not for the abrupt exclamation of the hunter.

"I fount it, steadfast warrior! Your friend hunter has not returned," he then abandoned his scrolls and moved towards him, placing a steady hand onto his shoulder as a consolation for the bad news. "Do not feel saddened by the response I gave you. The searching party that I have sent will return shortly." The hunter tried to sketch a smile, but failed to do so when he probably realized how he truly felt.

"I am neither a warrior nor a merchant, master hunter, "Dorinth said grittily as he jerked his body to remove the hand lay on his shoulder. Without allowing the hunter the chance to even understand the nature of his reply, he thundered through the door, saying with dislike, "May the stars watch over you."

"Good fortune, nush zi o profesie" the hunter yelled from behind. Such irritating forgetfulness annoyed Dorinth slightly, but he seemed to pay no attention to anything else but his thoughts while he dashed through the crowded paths, skillfully avoiding any elf that got in his way.

When he finally reached his cabin, he stormed inside the cozy and protective dwelling and crashed into his bed, sighing loudly. His mind was a churning ocean of thoughts, raging from the moment when he met Eraniel until their confrontations, when his good friend turned against him. It's the path he had chosen… he mused while staring at the ceiling blankly. aici se termina chappy

Dorinth continued to ponder Eraniel's most recent behavior to try and find an answer to his own boiling questions. The roots of evil have grown thicker ever since the death of his parents. It was inevitable that he would try and escape the sphere of suffering by doing what he thought is right. We have no control over our destiny, and his was has been no different… he mused. Dorinth turned his head left, looking at the clear blue sky through his window. Everything was so quiet and eerie, contrasting with the inner raging battle that was taking place inside his mind. He felt regretful and sorrowful that he wouldn't have the chance to see his friend again, to try and mentor him like he used to. Even if the searching party offered him a glimmer of hope, Dorinth was certain that Eraniel would never be found.

Finding no relief from his tumultuous thoughts while spending the whole day inside his hut, Dorinth sighed his frustrations and lifted his lean body off the bed. Instead of consuming himself over a matter that would only make him feel worse, he decided that he would help the hunters prepare for the upcoming celebrations. By keepings his body and mind preoccupied, Dorinth hoped that his heartache and regret would slowly diminish as he searched for sanctuary in work.

Even from inside his cottage, he could hear the loud voices of quarreling elves and the high pitched laughter of the younglings who played near his house. After he shuffled his way out of the monotonous and slightly shadowy hut, Dorinth was once again greeted by the warm rays of the sun at noon. As he looked around impassively, he noticed the same young elves he had seen earlier, only that they were now chasing each other and laughing. Such sight would delight any elf, but his inner dejection had left a void stain in his mind, devoid of any happiness and joy.

He simply made his way to the cheerful center of the village, where even more elves had gathered by the sound of their mixed and loud voices that created an ambiguous chorus of endless tasks giving, advices and scolding. The latter was particularly noticeable as the older, more arrogant elves were constantly displeased with the work of the young and confused hunters.

His attention focused on the booming agitation ahead, Dorinth almost fell to the floor as his legs buckled awkwardly when an elf that helped another carry a table hit him on the side with his back. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he avoided a most embarrassing scenario.

"Apologies, fellow hunter," said the one responsible for the incident as he passed by him, sketching a friendly(sin) smile. Dorinth tried to return the friendly gesture without animosity, but he was too slow. Having turned his back on him almost instantly, the two elves continued to talk about their hunting experiences as they moved towards their destination slowly, not even affected by the incident.

Now I can't even walk properly, he thought bitterly as he dug his chin in his chest, trying to control himself better. After he reached a conclusion, the shouts, yells and good will returned to the same high volume, almost irritating his ears. By maneuvering himself through the increasing number of elves, Dorinth entered the center of the village where the preparation were hectic as ever. Only a handful of elves were still bringing tables and chairs, and as Dorinth turned his head to the left, the head hunter entered his field of vision. He was closer to him than he anticipated, but luckily, several young hunters were keeping him preoccupied with their questions and requests.

Dorinth wiped his face with a palm and sighed as he realized that all this bustle would not offer him any inner peace. Just when he was about to leave, he saw a gesture of the head hunter with the corner of his eye. Thinking that he probably gestured towards the other elves, Dorinth turned around and stepped hardly on the soil with his left foot when a yell shackled his movement.

"Young warrior, come here!" Such simple words collapsed a mountain on Dorinth's vulnerable mind. Irritated and with a foul mood, he wanted to go and pretend that he didn't hear the request directed at him, but the least he wanted was to look like a fool in front of the younger elves. Frowning slightly and clenching his fists in frustration, he whispered a curse and moved towards the head hunter with fast and firm steps. The other elves greeted him warmly, but his almost inaudible greeting brought some awkward stares upon him. All what he wanted was to get on with it and leave this place as soon as possible, but apparently the head hunter had other plans.

"Brave warrior, I didn't get your name, but would you like to assist Aneldor with the preparations for the upcoming celebration?" he asked kindly, facing the tall, slightly muscular brown haired elf of the group. Even if he wanted to refuse, the kind smile and the warm gaze of the named elf made denial impossible. By gathering himself, Dorinth replied, "I will be delighted to."

As soon as words left his mouth, the head hunter rushed towards him and wrapped his arms around his ribs, hugging him in front of everyone else. Taken aback by such positive reaction, Deleith smiled wryly, his eyebrows lifting slightly. The other elves smiled at him, but Dorinth was almost sure that Aneldor barely restrained to escape a chuckle. After what seemed a long and very awkward moment, the head hunter released him and brought a hand upon his shoulder, a proud look on his face.

"You will make a great warrior one day, young one." For the fourth time in a row, Dorinth wanted to contradict him, but he restrained himself the moment the hunter dismissed the rest of the elves in his own agitated and peculiar way. "Why are you still here? fa ceva misto

Dorinth bowed his head and prepared to leave, but a faint poke on the arm summoned his awareness. As he raised his head from the ground, he saw the same friendly face of Aneldor who looked at him inquisitively. "Are you really a warrior? You don't quite look like one," he said while his eyes inspected his body, making him feel more than awkward.

"That's because I am not a warrior," Dorinth replied and resumed walking, but his companion interrupted him yet again. "Apologies, but that's not where we are supposed to go." Finding no other way around but to give up his introvert attitude and embrace what seemed like an opportunity to temporary forget about Eraniel, Dorinth pat his companion on the shoulder and smiled in embarrassment. His action delighted Aneldor, who briefly pointed at one of the big houses with his finger.

"As a hunter, it is my duty to aid the head hunter. We will start by transporting fruit baskets from that depository house to the tables." He looked quite merry and content by doing such dull and boring tasks, but Dorinth didn't feel like spoiling his mood just because his was already down. To try and create a more casual bond between them, he added, "My name is Dorinth, and I am glad to have the chance to talk to a hunter."

Aneldor's face lightened and smiled once again before he entered the house, signaling Dorinth to do the same. The moment he entered, he was greeted by the pleasant and sweet smell of fruits, but slightly surprised because of the interior. What looked like a normal house on the exterior was dull and almost matched a warehouse in the inside. The owner has probably moved to another village, thus abandoning the house to a better purpose than let it acquire dust and deteriorate over the years.

Its design was far from intricate. On the left and right sides two single windows allowed a glimmer of light to penetrate the surrounding darkness and offer the elves enough light to avoid tripping around. Numerous bloated sacks occupied the outer parts of it, along with a pile of wooden boards on the far left corner. Most of the middle of the room was filled with tables on which resided a plethora of fruit baskets, awaiting for the elves to deliver them outside. When no other elves entered the building, irritation and disappointment crept over Dorinth when he realized that it was up to them to do the entire job, which could take quite a while. One positive factor was that he at least had an enjoyable company, and there was much to learn from a hunter that has already been through the challenge.

A loud enough cough snapped Dorinth from his reverie when Aneldor eyed him and then shifted his gaze towards the basket. He smiled with half width at his companion and picked a basket of his own before they carried them outside and placed them on the different tables, as Aneldor suggested.

The repetition of this cycle allowed the two elves to get accustomed to each other. Being the more excited one about meeting a younger elf, Aneldor told Dorinth about how he hunted a huge boar last year, and that he was almost named the bravest hunter were it not for another elf who stumbled across a boar of the same species, only larger. Dorinth found himself captivated by the way he was describing the encounter; even if it was something trivial, his words made it sound like an unbelievable feat of cunningness and courage.

While not coherent and enthusiastic as Aneldor was, Dorinth has in turn told him about why he wasn't a hunter and the reason for his foul mood. However, he only told him that Eraniel and he had split after a quarrel and that his hunter companion hadn't returned yet. Even if Aneldor sounded like a pleasant elf, Dorinth wasn't keen in sharing an intimate and delicate experience to someone who he had just met.