Her feet were moved with urgency. She ushered Narmo along at a brisk pace, constantly turning her head to see if she was being followed. She kept wishing that it hadn't happened, that no one had noticed her. Why did Atar have to send her? He could have sent any number of his druids, or any of the elves from the village for that matter. He was respected and important, of course he didn't have time to make the journey on his own and arrive here on time but why did he have to pick her. She had just taken into the fold of the adults within the grove. She was barely grown and would have liked nothing better than to have hidden in the forest for at least a few more years but when she heard him say in his soft calm voice that he believed in her she couldn't refuse him.

She heard the steady thrum of metal armor coming from behind her, coupled with an equally steady set of footfalls. She drew herself tightly against the wall, pulling Narmo to her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as she watched a city guard pass her by without so much as a glance, leading seven others behind him who were equally unaware of her presence. They left her there as she hid desperately, listening to her heart slow back to normal.

How could she have muddled such an easy task? All she had to do was arrive, attend the new king's coronation and finally recite the words of peace on behalf of the Elves and the druids within the Elven lands. She hadn't even made it to the castle's walls and already disaster lay in her wake. What would Atar say when he found out? And he would find out, there was no doubt about that.

Like a refugee she wound her wary way to the main gates, staring up in awe at the pure size of the walls and the sheer quantity of people streaming ever slowly past the guards, who would occasionally inspect a wagon bed or flip through papers. She looked to all these people in their fineries, Lords and merchants and craftsmen. Gradually her eyes made it down to herself, swathed in leather and simple linens, covered in the dirt of travel. As best she could she wiped and dusted away the grime, picking the leaves and twigs from her raven braids. When finally her efforts were all but exhausted she took her place in the line.

It was not hard to see that none of them paid her any mind, though the ones that did would see the wolf at her side and make some distance. The flood of people moved more quickly than she had anticipated and before she could think of what she would say she was looking into the weathered, bored expression of one of the city's guardsmen.

"Name?" he asked not bothering to look up from the muddled table of parchment and inks.

"Isilmé Naïlo," she answered slowly, finding the human's language to be slow and hard to form. The guard slowly lifted his eyes from his work, upon hearing the strange accent.

"An Elf." His voice held a note of quiet surprise. "And what would an Elf be wantin' in here?" Isilmé arced a brow suspiciously. Surely they had known she was coming.

"I have been sent here on behalf of my father, Troivis Naïlo, Master of the Grove and Councilor of my people to..."

"Alright, alright! No need to start throwin' titles around, Miss." With tired eyes he scanned the tiny print scrolled out before him. "Right then, Miss. On yer way...Old up just a minute!" Isilmé, who had taken a mere handful of steps past the table froze and spun on her heals. "Tha's a wolf there ain't it!"

"This is Narmo, my companion."

"He wouldn't happen to be the same wolf what started the riot over in merchant's square now would he? That were a sight, so's I'm told. Just had eight men who were down there report up. No one hurt, lucky thing that was."

"No one hurt?" Isilmé asked cautiously. The guard continued as if he had forgotten why he'd stopped her in the first place.

"Well, there were a infant with a nasty bump to the head but nothing' he won't live through." He grinned as if the entire story were an amusing thing that had happened to him long ago when he still had a full head of hair. As if suddenly awoken the smile left him and he looked at her sternly. "We can't be havin' beasts runnin' about the place. He stays out here."

Confused by the concept of telling an animal where or where not to go, Isilmé knelt bringing her face level with Narmo's, a hand resting on his neck.

"It would better for us both if you left me for now," she told him softly in her native tongue. "I will call to you when it is time to leave." Narmo answered with a series of short barks and nuzzled her face before bounding back they way they had come. Isilmé watched him go then nodded politely to the guard before further approaching the gates.

Beyond the massive wooden doors was a long dark tunnel as she traveled through the roughly cut passage through the thick walls. Even as she walked Isilmé could feel the impression of the tunnel slowly hugging closer, squeezing tighter around her. When daylight beamed ahead of her she finally felt as if she could breathe again, drawing in deep healthy doses. The tunnel slowly widened and finally she emerged into vast open grounds, surrounded by the safety of the city walls.

It felt to her a lie. The sun shone down, the wind moved over the people milling about yet the walls were still there. They stood in a mockery of the natural surroundings, holding them tightly, imprisoning everything within. She felt a shudder move down her spine.

Inside the city was more organized that outside. There were no crowded lanes of goods and services, the crowds were thinner and quieter, a class of people with what they referred to as better breeding. She could hear the ring of steel against steel somewhere off behind a cluster of ornamental trees. No doubt the city guard, or a blacksmith. Surely a city this large would have many. The wind carried to her the slightly familiar smell of dogs and horses.

She waited a moment, scanning her surroundings before moving. She needed to find the castle itself. Anything to escape the stares she perceived from the people all about her, taking note of her shabby appearance. No doubt many of these individuals had never seen an elf in their lifetime and she refused to be a spectacle any longer.

It didn't take much to spot the castle huddled under the protective shadow of the mountain against the far wall of the city and the path was relatively clear. She straightened herself to her full height though she knew it couldn't be too impressive to the humans around her, whose smallest member was easily several inches taller than she. After a quick check of her equipment she pointed herself at the castle and made her way with carefully placed steps, nervous of tripping before such a large group of onlookers.