[hr][center][h2]I M A L E S S A  S H A R I S[/h2][/center][hr]
For a few brief moments, the tension in the air was enough to choke. Imalessa was grateful for the banter and smart wit that seemed to dampen it enough for her to breathe. So many people, and already they were fighting with one another. She scowled. If they expected to go trampling through the forest this way, starting shouting matches and raising hell, they would not get very far.

The elf, Aoné, spoke, voice practically dripping with sarcasm. [i]Elves[/i], Imalessa thought. Though she may have been a half-blood, she knew very little about her father's kin - her kin. Regardless, though she'd loved her father dearly, he'd had certain qualities that she just couldn't stand. She still wasn't sure if it was an elven trait, or if her father had simply been a bit of a prick.

She was starting to think it was an elven trait.

Luckily, it seemed her human blood had diluted it. She had to admit she could have a bit of a temper . . . and that she had a tendency to be stubborn. Something both her parents had had, in their own ways. Imalessa had apparently inherited the worst of both of them.

She pushed off the wall and toward the center of the room, toward the rest of the group. "I'm a huntress," she said. "I like to think I'm skilled with a bow." Again, she ached with its absence. She wished to feel its familiar weight on her back. "And I know the forest as well I know myself. Better, even."

She sniffed, looking around at the group. "If you think you can just waltz in acting as you are now, you have another thing coming. The trees don't like strangers as it is, let alone a group of squabbling, overgrown children." That temper inside her flared. It occurred to her then that, while she had solely taken on the quest for her sisters' sakes, the forest would need her, too. It was old, ancient . . . She would not let it suffer such trivial quarrels. It deserved better after all it had done for her family, for her.