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Elves
Each of the elves took a turn slowly shoveling the soft earth over the snow dusted coffin. It had been many years since they had seen this sort of personal death. There had tended the corpses of orcs, which oddly enough had been on the day this strange adventure had started, but this was a single young mortal who it seemed touched those who knew her. It was interesting, Taitheneb reflected, how her death even touched those who did not know her.
Yes, I suppose... Erebemlin chose his words carefully. All death would touch those who must face it after such short lives.
Taitheneb nodded and placed another heap of dirt atop the grave. Do you pity them?
Erebemlin was taken aback by the question, and he leaned on his shovel, raising his eyes to meet those of his inquisitive companion. I pity their lack... of appreciation...for the beauty of the earth around them, but... Again he paused in contemplation. No, I would think that with their short lives they would treasure it all the more.
Maybe, was Taitheneb’s only reply. Maybe.
The elves continued their duty as their breath steamed the air before them and the snow fell lightly.
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