[center] [img=http://s6.postimg.org/a69rjg31t/gggg.jpg] [/center] A smile trickled onto Deimos’s lips as Melvin soon realized she was a force to be reckoned with, even her horse’s ears were perked forwards, attentive on the manner. She nodded subtly at his directions, slowing her animal to a sluggish gallop. Although Melvin was paying attention to his crew when he mentioned her being a half-elf, Deimos shoved her hood up farther over her face. Would they be able to tell if she contained her ears? [i] No, no, worry that I knew you committed arson. Think Full elf, fools. That’s the last thing they should be concerned about. [/i] She thought, pondering on her past complications just because of her race, never to be able to be changed into a pureblood of either. So deep in thought, she lost grip of her horse when the animal’s stride became uneven on the rocky pathway headed towards the barn, quickly to be met with a mouthful of sand. She stood erect quickly, facing the animal who had stopped in curiosity of the fallen half-elf. Shaking her head, she grabbed the animal’s reins and walked the rest of the way, sending out her lorelei thauma to make sure the wheels of the cart never traveled too far. She stopped to examine the abandoned barn down the road just as a horse was taken inside. It was one of many abandoned barns in Sord, she could see why their ‘cellar’ was never uncovered. She made a mental note of the location, another thought recurring after that mentioned how foolish it would to be to stay after revealing their location to an outsider. She had no idea how important or how official this base had grown to be. She felt a pang of nausea, holding onto her horse’s rein tighter, glancing at the way she came from- they could dispose her in favor of keeping their location. It hadn’t done her any good to let her mind run and douse her in her fantasies of worry- she was already here, Melvin could’ve heard her coming a long time ago. Soon her elven shoes would hit grass and weeds, tangled through years of abandonment, an outline of a darker shadow revealing the dark elf. Combined with her concerns, his lone appearance hit her, making her footsteps stutter and her heart to thump faster in her chest. [i] Paranoid [/i] flashed across her mind. In response, she stiffened her lips, walking gracefully towards the elf. She stopped next to him, gazing out the same direction he was. “Why? Why shouldn’t I report you?” She asked, her father’s heavy British accent clear in her close to whispered words. “What drives you to cause more death and despair? Trying to get your point across this country or just because you want to? The last thing you should say is that I’ll never understand and that I’m going to report you to the authorities regardless.” She turned her head towards him, the red eye left uncovered by an eyepatch scraping over his features. “Dark elves and half-elves have more in common than you think.”