Trapped in the Den of Alphas
Findell calls out as he sets up his produce cart.
“It's my lucky morning, Findell!” I call back with a smile, lifting the basket into the air triumphantly as he chuckles in return.
I carry on my journey with a smile, nodding at all the friendly faces who greet me as I pass by. Wood elves, such as those here in Azealea, are peaceful and friendly by nature. They keep themselves busy by caring for each other and the enchanted forest they call home. Their lives are simple, but they have plenty of heart, as my father always says. If I had to guess, I’d say he misses living here just as much as I do sometimes, although he would never say the words out loud. After all, being invited to live amongst
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