Wise Old Elf Novels & Stories

She’s not the first person who has said that to us, but she did say it without sugar-coating it. I watch as Orsa’s body suddenly goes rigid. She slowly turns, facing the forest beside us. As I watch, an elf steps out of the forest. “Don’t stop on my account, beautiful. I love a woman with a temper who’s not afraid to use it,” he practically purrs. “I especially liked the part about accepting your amazing mate. I find myself to be quite exceptional.” Orsa scoffs. “Arrogant much?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her voice bounced off the back of my head and reminded me that we were privy to an ignorant audience. "Your ladyship, this is Ulfgar Ungart. He is here to recieve my standard 3-year apprenticship. He's off to a bit of a rough start but for a dwarf he's showing quite a bit of dedication." replied Sir FreeFord. he gestured for me to proceed into the kitchen. I quickly bowed to the lady. "You may call me Ulf, your ladyship, if it pleases you. Is there anything in particular you would like me to make?" i asked as evenly as i could. Her very presence was having a physical affect on my self-control.

Eliza scolded while grabbing his black collar. "I'm sorry, he's a little friendly." Once again I waved her off. We made our way into the house and settled in the small living room where her grandfather was seated in a brown antique armchair. He seemed to be a friendly man, his face was wrinkled with a smile. He had gray hair and green eyes. His skin was tan, baked by the sun. He wobbled out of his recliner and walked toward me. He was a couple of inches taller than me. He extended a hand and I shook it firmly.

Looking at the man whose rugged face has grown wrinkles over the years. Grey hairs showing in his beard, yet those eyes. Still the same cold and emotionless. "Now they send you to seek the information? You guys are really adamant." Elora doesn't argue. Pulling a chair, she settles on it. Crossing one leg over the other. "We have to be Daniel. You see the spirit of the death wolf is rising again. And you of all know, we would hate to have that bloodshed again." Daniel chuckles , looking at the girl in disbelief.

"I see you like me, which is why I'm going to give you a gift for not scolding me." "Are you chastising me?" "You know how things usually go. You have a temper tantrum because a child sees an older woman like me.” "No, not at all." "Let us not linger on it. Please extend your hand." "Why my hand?" "This is your present." “Okay.” Violet took the woman's hand in hers, closed her eyes, and placed her palm against hers. It was a gift from her mentor Qontessah, and it helped her win over people by telling them their fortunes.

Her laughter carried faintly on the wind as she handed them food, and I melted into the shadows, unseen. Elizabeth’s mother was waiting just beyond the perimeter, beside a modest carriage. I handed her the small pouch of gold I had taken from the store. “Oh, this is enough,” she said softly, shaking her head. “More than enough.” She pressed a small vial into my palm. “Rub this on your skin and clothes. It’s specially made. Wolves, trackers, even magic—they won’t find you.” I did as instructed, the cool, herbal substance soaking into my coat and skin. The scent was faint, yet strangely protective, as if the forest itself would shield me now.

We look forward to the day she can run with us. "Soon." The witch agreed with a soft smile. Some of the shadows began to dance like excited pups, their excited yips filling the air as a giant blonde man stepped out of the darkening tree-line followed by a smaller version of himself. Despite the winter months being on them, both males were golden like the husks of wheat and barley. Their white blonde hair matched that of the little girl babbling in her mother's arms. Ulf was much taller than his son and bulkier with muscles crowding his limbs and torso. His chiseled facial features could easily make the gods jealous and his blue eyes were topaz blue and as hard as ice as they surveyed the wor

she warned. "Let go of me!" The young man insisted. "Hahaha! I'm really sorry about my son," said the man wearing an apron. "That owl has the essence of an Eldar! It can be profitable for my talent!" "But this isn't the right way to borrow the bird, and it's not yours." "He's a silver wolf!"

“What better way to keep Humans away? The Elves weave spells of concealment so the forest appears dark. We ask the trees to rustle a lot when Humans pass by. Then you cry ‘ghost’ and we get left alone. You really are a superstitious lot.” Astrid could not help but smile. Sigwulf urged his horse forwards and caught up with Redswift. “Master Redswift?” The Elf gave Sigwulf an amused look. “Master Redswift indeed?” The Elf suddenly laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said to Sigwulf in his light and musical accent. “Your ways are just so very different to ours. You have a question?” “Yes. Do your people have the necklace?” “Alas, no. We do not. We gave it to the Mrawlers. They have it and wil

The elders are strong enough not in terms of the gift, but in the ability to work with it. - Tell me about them. What are they doing? Are these the oldest werewolves in the pack? Maxim covered his hand with my palm, lying on his elbow. - Elders are like a position, they are elected. All at least one hundred and thirty years old. Sufficiently educated, lived in the pack for at least eighty years. What else to tell? - What are they doing? - Many of them. Not a single case, trial, direction of development of the pack passes without their approval. All issues of the werewolves of the pack are resolved only with their participation.