This is a private roleplay between CrystalKitsune85 and Worm.
<3

Moira was from a farmer's family. Even elves had caste systems. She wore the tarnished skin of a daily worker. Her hair was still a long, silken silver which she pulled away from her face into a ponytail. Strands fell around her eyebrows, green eyes peeked out beneath them. She was taller than her younger brother, and just as tall as the oldest. Being the only daughter was tough. You were pushed as hard as the boys, but overprotected at the same time. Right now, she felt lucky to get away from her family.

Bands of sunlight streamed from in between branches. Her favorite spot was in the forest of Venmenor. There was a secluded pond which she often dipped in. Today, she decided it an excuse to pick berries. After all, it was beautiful outside. The smell of forest mildew made her smile from cheek to cheek. She had a sprinkling of freckles just above her nose which were illuminated in the sunlight.

The forest was normally calm, but today it seemed quiet. She lifted her head to the sky, saw birds flocking away. Her instincts were peaked. She began running, her movements stealthy and quiet. She leapt for cover beneath the trees, her bow cocked. Then, when she least expected it, a doe came running beneath her. And then another. Moira was shaking, knowing that something big was nearby.

She shifted forward to aim and before she knew it, she was slipping. Her foot didn't catch the branch as she'd hoped. With that misstep, she fell backwards from the branch and had to catch herself. Alas, all that she could grasp was the hard forest floor. She fell onto her ankle, it snapped under her weight. She let out a groan, looking at her basket spilling berries out onto the floor. She cringed, trying to get back onto her foot but any pressure shot arrows of pain up her spine. In the corner of her eye, she could swear she saw another elf.

Moira watched as the boar reared its head, ready to charge. It was as if all of the animals in the area were angered by something that Moira was unable to understand. She sat, cringing in pain, looking over at the boar with tear filled eyes, hoping that someone would give her some sympathy. And then, there he was.

She would've jumped from his presence, if she hadn't already sensed him near. She bit her lip, looking him over. There was something strange about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Even the boar seemed intimidated by the man. Moira tried to stand again, only to fall fast. She wasn't one to take help if she didn't need it, but she regrettably needed it. So she grabbed the man's hand, hoping that he would pull her up. "Why, thank you." She was surprised that someone would be here just in time. After all, if he weren't here, she'd be shit out of luck trying to stop a boar from pummeling her with no way to run.

Moira was scooped up by the gentleman with ease, her cheeks turning pink in the moment. Before she could thank the man, she was asleep. And surely this was all part of her dream somehow.

She smelled smoke and opened her eyes. She was in an unfamiliar place. She wanted to jump up and get her bearings, but her foot was bandaged and propped. Was it real then? Moira groaned, rubbing her head. The sheets were soft, the room was well lit and decorated. It seemed like someone of high status would live here. She let out a meek attempt for attention. "Hello? Anybody here?" She still hadn't the slightest clue as to how she'd gotten here in the first place.

When she lifted her head again, the familiar elf looked around the corner. She remembered how she broke her ankle in a flood of memories. But still, she didn't remember getting here. She held her head, still spinning. She sniffed the air, smelling less like smoke and more like food now. Her stomach gurgled in response. He placed the tray in front of her, and she blushed. It smelled different than her mother's cooking, but good nonetheless.
"Well thank you - Kerian." Moira watched him bow, dipping her head in response.

"You may call me Moira." She smelled the steam coming off of the stew, excited to eat. "I'm from Xanaros Village." She peeked her head to try and find a window where she could get her bearings. "Where are we?" She asked in a hushed voice, holding the spoon above her bowl of stew.

The elf took a couple of spoonfuls of the stew, trying to really absorb its flavor. Though she did in fact prefer more green in her food, it was actually pretty good, albeit a bit salty. She smiled when he gave her other food options. She shook her head. "This is all so much. I couldn't ask you for anything else." Moira sipped another spoonful of the hot stew. It was healing in itself. She wondered what kind of meat it was, leaning towards deer or maybe boar.

As he explained the amenities of his home, Moira looked around. She actually didn't notice that the stone walls were part of a cave. "Wait, you built this place yourself? That's incredible!" She gasped, now appreciating the space even more. "But how?" She remembered her father and brothers rebuilding their home when it was struck down by humans. It took them days to build a simple tree-home. To hollow out a cave seemed like it would take immense manpower. She wasn't sure how much of Kerian's story was true. There was something increasingly peculiar about him.

She tried to feel comfortable in the man's presence. After all, he did rescue her. There was something that kept Moira suspicious. She blushed, bowed, and thanked the man at every opportunity. She nodded at the idea of sleep, however, she wasn't sure if she would be able to. She wasn't usually this agreeable. The elf just felt so incapacitated, that she felt there was no choice.

As she looked towards the outside, she wondered what her family thought. She wondered if they worried. "Do you think... Do you think you could tell my family that I'm okay? Perhaps carry a letter to them?" Though she would preferably be returned to them now, she was happy to hear that Kerian planned on returning her. Her eyes were red and droopy. Though the steam of hot food seemed to perk her up, she was stressed. In a foreign environment, everything seemed stressful. So she tried her best to remain a lady. "And... I think I would like to... Use your... Err, relieve myself." Her knees folded over each other, in attempts to hold it in. Her face was bright pink, looking down at the sheets.

It felt good to be outside. The sound of the waterfall helped Moira with her stage fright. After the deed was done, she was whisked away again. The man seemed to carry her with ease. It made her bubble up in her stomach as if they were flying. Upon returning to her bed, she felt a sense of dread. She would never want to be trapped somewhere.

"I think I would like to write it now, if that's alright?" She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep much tonight. She had too many questions on her mind. Who was this gentleman? Why was he so stoic? What was he hiding? How did he get to her just in time? Was this all just a coincidence aligned by the stars?

"What of your family? What are they like?" She smiled, letting down her hair finally. Long strands of silvery blonde fell over her shoulders. Her eyes glowed with curiosity.

Moira smiled, grabbing the paper and pen delicately. She wrote in her native script as Kerian reminisced about his family. It seemed oddly, lonely. At least compared to her own family life. She was constantly surrounded by her mother, father, brothers and cousins. She hardly had any time to herself. In some ways, the quiet of this strange man's home was welcomed. Yet, it left her wondering if he were from some foreign land. Especially when he mentioned having no mate.

While Moira's mother was much the same, pushing her to find a suitor, it was the way he called it a 'mate', rather than any mention of marriage. She wondered if he wanted to get married. He was a rather handsome man, after all. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't already have a mate... Then again... Moira was a desirable virgin, who at twenty years old, remained unmarried. She was picky. And the men in her village were all so desperate for attention, it made it hard for her to take any of them seriously. She wanted something that felt natural, like those in storybooks.

"I find it interesting how different your family is from mine." She smiled, marking her final signature with a curvy stamp before handing the letter to Kerian. She watched him carefully put it into an envelope and for some reason, she blushed again. She looked down at her sheets, trying to hide her pure nature. As the man handed her the book, her eyes lit up. "Oh, thank you!" She stroked the spine, feeling the weight of it. It was beautifully bound. "Its beautiful." She smiled sheepishly, flipping through it. It was written in a different dialect than her own, wondering if this was Kerian's native language.

"Be safe." Moira gleamed, watching the man leave her room. And for once in her life, she was actually alone.

The hair on Moira's neck rose from the sound of flapping outside. She couldn't decide whether it was a big bird, or - what. All she knew was that it brought up memories from a distant past. She was still a child. Her mother scooped her up from a huge fire, her oldest brother was helping their father wrangle out animals from their stalls. The smell of singed wood and screaming people resurfaced in her brain. She took a large gulp, and decided to start reading.

"Loquin's Ward" She wrinkled her nose, still trying to rid her head of negativity. She sighed and flipped into the first page. From there she was flipping through pages nonstop. It told a story of a dragon and their family. The memories of fire and pitchforks returned but were combated by the beautiful story's dialogue. She was stricken and confused. Moira wondered just what a dragon's scales would feel like.

Moira nearly leapt from her sheets at the sound of Kerian's voice. Though she heard the sounds of distant flapping, she definitely didn't expect him to return so quickly. Perhaps they were closer to her village than she'd thought? When she looked down at her book, she noted that she was already twenty pages in. So she looked up at Kerian with a bashful smile. "No, this one is rather good." She closed it over her finger momentarily, trying to shake her curiosities away. "Tell me, have you ever seen a dragon?" She brushed a strand of hair from her face as she said so.

Moira cringed, closing the book in front of her. "Hmph. Well the only times I've seen a dragon, there was smoke and fire." She held down a growl. "And death." She spat out. She looked out towards the open night sky. "Y'know, our village says that befriending a dragon is good luck. They say its a curse to kill them." She scoffed, looking down now. "But what were we supposed to do? Besides, their horns and scales make very powerful weapons." She didn't want to give away all of their family secrets and lore. She only met this person.

Moira did remember the talons of a dragon's feet latching onto a cow before flying off. Perhaps it was after the first throw of a pitchfork that the dragon actually attacked with fire. She wasn't actually there when her village was attacked, so she wasn't sure how it all happened. She did remember though... That the dragon was killed. It was a green serpent dragon with antler-like horns. Supposedly different types had different powers and abilities.

"Goodnight." She watched Kerian walk off, obviously hurt by Moira's words. It seemed odd. She wondered how close Kerian had been to the dragon he'd seen. Perhaps he had actually befriended one. Moira looked down at the leather bound book, stroking it over the burnt lettering. Perhaps this book would give her some insight. She definitely wouldn't sleep tonight.

The sun came up in bright surges that made Moira delirious. She groaned, holding her arm in front of her face. She must've fallen asleep at some point. The leather book was spread open, halfway through on the bedspread. She dreamed of a dragon breathing on her face, his snout puffing up her hair. She felt like she could still see its eyes. And for some reason, it made her think of Kerian. She wondered where he was. Hopefully he was okay.

She felt ashamed and estranged, her hair was starting to form a nest in the back of her head. Moira nodded when he asked about the outhouse. "I feel much better after some sleep." She yawned, stretching so that her shoulders would pop. "Though, I'm still curious about dragons. I've only seen one of them up close. My mom and dad have seen two each..." She fiddled her fingers. "Well, did you actually meet one?" To be honest, if it were possible to befriend a dragon, imagine the power one could have.

Moira's imagination ran wild as Kerian explained all of the qualities that dragons had. None of which she was aware of. How did they do all of these things without thumbs? Or did they have magical mind powers which could move things as they pleased? She was so caught up in thought, that she didn't notice Kerian's misstep in words. After all, he couldn't be a dragon, he was clearly an elf like her.

Moira had heard of there being variations of dragons, but she had only seen the common mountain type. She wondered how each of these species differed. "I would like that." She responded, anxious to see illustrations of these magnificent creatures. Maybe someday, she could be like Kerian and befriend a dragon.

Moira had only seen dragon skin used for imperial armor, it was a sign of status. To see it so humbly bound was a shock. She wondered if Kerian knew the dragon from which this skin came. "Wow. Thank you for sharing this with me." Her eyes were wide with intrigue. All of this was so unusual, that Moira was unsure if she was dreaming. Maybe she was still lying on the forest floor, trampled by a boar. She stroked the book's cover, carefully. "Show me the dragons that you knew." She smiled a childlike grin, peering up at the man who'd rescued her.

Moira leaned in, eyes widening at the detailed images. She touched the pictures curiously. "They are beautiful." She had a worried look in her eyes. "That's the kind that burnt my village." She pointed to an image next to the black one, it had a deep red color and burning eyes. She much preferred looking at the sleek, black dragon.

Moira quirked an eyebrow, now noticing his misplaced 'we'. "You know so much more about dragons than any other elf I've met." She was ultimately a bit skeptical, shifting in her sheets to get a better look at the elf with black hair. "And you talk as if you are a dragon." She gulped before letting out a nervous laugh. That couldn't be true, right? It was just a rumor that dragons could shape shift. They told it to children so they wouldn't talk to strangers. At least, that's what she'd hoped and always believed. "I mean, if you were one, you wouldn't eat me or anything would you?" She pressed her brows together now, as if pleading. She wasn't sure that Kerian was a dragon, but something about his affinity with them, made her question whether or not he was harboring some deep secret. Maybe he was just keeping her captive to feed to his family dragons.