Crouching in the shadow of a nearby boulder, Jynne wiped the sweat from his eyes, and began to pick out the fine grain of stones that had lodged themselves in his skin.
The glare in his eyes hardened as he looked at his hand. It was becoming patchy. Blotches of the white skin were beginning to spread like mold upon old bread.
With a frown he glided to his feet and put his shoulder to the rock. It moved easily under the loose dirt, toppled over the edge, and landed on top of the other boulders with a cracking thud.
Slithering down, his eyes flitted across there work. A thin smile stretched his face. It was a fitting tomb for the elves. Hopefully they'd do the job right and find the Stones before they died.
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