ElfQuest is the property of Wendy and Richard Pini.


Wing chewed a small piece of bread while he watched the dancers who were running back and forward as the time came closer. He grinned as he heard pieces of different conversations mix in the sound of musicians doing last minute practicing.

"Where is your veil?"

"It's the wrong color!"

"Hold this while I…"

"Can't they start soon?"

It felt good to know that he was not the only elf who was impatient. The blond elf held back a sigh as he swallowed the last bite. There was next to nothing to do now, so close to the ceremony, which opened the festival. Unless you played instruments or were one of the dancers, that was.

'Or', he thought as he gathered his legs under him, 'see if there are more fruits and vegetables to collect.' If he remembered correctly, the long yellow ones which only grew in Behtia's garden should be ready today. Even though a little voice told him they were probably already harvested, if they were ready today, he knew that her hut was on the edge of the village. At least he had something to do then.

The grass pushed gently at his naked feet. Relishing the feeling, he did not notice anyone before he suddenly walked something. An "oomph" escaped his lips as he awkwardly stepped backwards. Out of balance, he felt himself leaning a little too far back. He would have fallen if it had not been for someone grabbing him just in the right moment. Pulled up, he saw a maiden who smiled softly. "Careful, Wing."

"Thanks Behtia," he muttered, quickly leaning down to pick up the vegetables that had rained down because of his clumsiness. He could feel pink dots color his cheeks, which grew as this newfound embarrassment. "I was going to see if these were ready for harvest," he explained to her. "You were clearly swifter than I."

He came aware of her scent, a mix of spices and sand as she stepped closer to him. "That's sweet of you, Wing." He looked up at her. Whatever he was about to say, it was lost as a new sensation came over him. Her eyes were impossibly bright, reminded him of sprouting grass. Her skin spoke of long hours in the sun, her dress was something between blue and her brilliant green orbs. Her hair looked too soft there, almost touching the ground. He came so aware of this, as a name only his parents used caressed him like a soft breeze.