Come, eat and drink of the feast!Tahlemaryn wanderes around her campsite at the edge of the Glade, making final adjustments to the turning spit on which turned the young deer she had hunted that morning. Everything was just so, and yet she was still nervous that the Grey Elves would find somewhat lacking.
Perhaps, none of them would arrive and all this good meat would go to waste ... and the mead set to warm by the fire (which was definitely a shame).
As the appointed hour drew nigh, she pulled out a twin-piped flute ... the one that Omeryn the great Dragon himself had tried to ... but that was another story ...
Playing trilling elvish dancing songs, a smile came to her face as she heard approaching voices ... who would be the first to join the circle around the fire???