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I took note of a nymph darting from tree to tree hiding from her satyr. She had the deep emerald skin that was the token of her people, and long, stark white hair that framed her body wildly. Unlike most other Nymphs, who wandered the forest in only their bare skin, she was clad in a flimsy two piece outfit that concealed her most delicate features.
I tried to approach her, but she darted up her host tree, her red eyes blazing back at me. She tilted her head and I felt her gaze blaze through me. I had always been told that Nymphs were dull in the head, but the eyes of this one reflected something else. A curiosity about me that implied a deeper intelligence.
I was startled when she spoke
“Be careful with this one Azlyn,” she crooked her head toward him, “You know from what line she branches.”
