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It was a warm evening. Soft light from the two moons shone above the elves' forest home. It filtered through the tree canopy and finally dappled across the red curls of a small elf. She had fair, slightly freckled skin, large bright green eyes, and long wavy hair. A large braid swept up each side of her face and gathered atop her head with leaf and flower adornments. Even with as long as elves stay youthful, it would be clear to any elf that this one was quite young. Her eyes still held a full measure of wonder that only experience could temper. Her name was Evervale. She knelt on the ground and held a long wilted leaf between her hands, its yellowed surface softly touching her fair palms. Her green eyes were shining with emotion and her body was very still. She had just recently discovered what magical power she held within her - the power to shape plant life. It was still new to her, but already her powers were strong. She knew she could save this dying plant in an instant, her plantshaping powers were welling up just beneath that minor barrier of skin. Yet, the young elf thought of the cycle of life, something Wolfriders were taught from the moment they drew breath. Even the death of this small plant would serve a purpose. In time, its wilted leaves and stems would deteriorate and mix with the soil and provide needed nutrients, in turn making it more fertile and able to support more plant life. It was the cycle that the world around the elves followed at a much quicker pace. This plant's lifetime hardly spanned the flutter of a waking eyelid when compared to the length of time an elf could live. And yet, she hated to watch it die, especially when she knew she could stop it from happening. She could make it live again! But for how long... eventually it would wilt again. Eventually it would die. She couldn't stay with it and make it live forever. And even if she could, why protect this plant over any other? All around her, plants and trees grew, lived, and died. Her wet green eyes looked around the vast forest in which she kneeled, then returned to the small plant. "Little one," she said softly, as if speaking to an ethereal spirit. "I will not interfere. You have a right to your life... and your death." Her throat constricted and her words ended. Gently she moved her hands away until the leaves drooped back to touch the forest floor. Then, regretfully, she pushed herself up and onto her feet, hesitated... then stepped quietly back into the night to return to her home. The two moons continued their passage across the night skies. Their light dappled down through the forest canopy to finally settle on a lone plant's wilting leaves.
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