(Please make sure to read Forest Flute | The Laurelin Archives by Legelion for the other perspective on this scene.)
Taur-e-Ndaedelos, T.A. 2981.
Once she feels the ground under her feet has gone from decayed leaves to soft grass, Hwiltis stops running. She falls to her knees, before they might give out on their own accord and waits until she steadies her breath.
The forest here is yet untainted. Greener, alive, thanks to the Grey-Elves' skill and magic. Beeches line the Forest River and the water is covered under a soft veil of mist. She stands up, leaves her possessions on the grass, and walks into the river.
After refreshing and washing herself, she takes in her surroundings. Upstream, the creeping darkness harbors the dangers of the wood. Scattered bands of orcs, twisted beasts, hostile dwellers of the Unseen. Downstream, the Elvenking shelters his folk in his crystal-lit caverns. Here, where sunlight and starlight are able breach through the canopy above, she is at ease.
She raises from the water when she realizes she is not alone. From up in the trees sounds a song, sung by a cheerful voice. Struck by curiosity, she follows the sound. The singing seizes, interrupted by a high-pitched fit of laughter. Then a flute starts singing and she sees him dance between the beeches. Her ears have not betrayed her, the voice belongs to an Elven child! A sprig of young life... a hopeful light amidst the darkness of the wood's corruption...
Enthralled by the boy's song and dance, she is drawn onto the path. She almost laughs, inadvertently mirroring his pure, innocent joy. Then the same moment the child brings his song to an end, her foot steps on a brittle branch. It cracks loudly, she knows instantly he is now aware of her presence. Out of mere instinct, she drops to the floor, out of sight behind the nearest shrubbery.
She peers towards the boy. He is frightened. The small whittling knife that must have previously fashioned his instrument, is now in his hand as a desperate means of self-defense. Don't stand your ground against looming danger, child, run fast to the safety of your cavern halls...!
A shrill, uncertain "hello?" comes from down the path. Hwiltis holds as still as she can, making no movement, drawing no breath, even her thoughts she brings to silence.
Finally he runs to his home, she sees him leave the path and cross straight through the woodlands. Still on her hands and knees she creeps back into the shadows, but she cherishes the brief moment of lightness within her heart.
