[center][h1]Ithil[/h1][/center]

A small shadow surrounded by giants. Ithil sways unsteadily on her feet, exhausted and aching through and through. She was used to running from danger, but that also included [i]hiding[/i] from danger. Never running so far at once with blows being rained down upon her. Though she held herself as steady as possible to avoid the weakness from showing. On the streets a weakness was essentially a death sentence, weakness was something to take advantage of. Even a year with the knights had done little to bring the quiet beggar from her shell, so strong traces of the beggar's prior life survived. Her brown hair short and ragged, never straying to touch her shoulders. Cut short by a small dagger Ithil kept hidden and in her possession. Her sun-kissed skin was covered by the dust and dirt from the run, which thankfully hid the numerous small scars. Large brown eyes and a non-descriptive face of any other peasant child only helped her meld into the background as the others chose their weapons and armor. Rubbing at her sore wrist, her brow furrowed as she cast a sulking, childish glower at both Xan and Kale. It was obvious were she placed the blame for her current state. 

And she was not completely wrong, one of them had promised her food, safety, and warmth. She had accepted though she had had little other choice, to stay would have been to risk a beating from the populace when the Knights conscripted the boys who had attacked her. Her knife like ears held the tangles of hair back while she cast her gaze of those about her. The humans, the elves. They were nothing she had not seen before, but the large winged demon was something she had never seen. Fight or flight was ready for any moved he made as she shifted all the more restlessly, he was a uncertain element. Uncertain elements meant danger. Biting her lip she kept one eyes on him, her long bangs falling into her eyes. She would have cut them save that a dagger near her face, even by her own hand, made her flinch away violently.

But she had more pressing matters, she was to chose a weapon. Something she wasn't sure she could even do! All she had ever heard used was sword and shield and they looked far too big for her small size. While she had grown a good few inches, now just shy of five feet by a mere inch or two. She had her bow, her small knife, and fists. That was all she had ever fought with, her brow furrowed all the more as she gnawed at her finger with thought. Brooms were used by angry women or men. So were  thrown rocks and bottles. It was just so incredibly frustrating for the small elf, how was she suppose to chose! Any weapon would look foolish on her and the armor even more so!