Elves, Amtyo thought. He loathed elves, and coudn't imagine a village full of them. The reason he hated elves was because his parents had been badly injured by one. He didn't like hating them, but he still thought of his parents nearly daily. He knew the one elf had been captured, so they coudn't be all bad, or the city woudn't be there. Maybe I'll make friends, Amtyo thought. Maybe...

Numair walked through the village. The eyes of the elves seemed to see through her very soul. It's as if they know... She thought nervously. But they can't. No one can know... Numair tried to keep her eyes down. She thought that maybe if she didn't look directly at them -- but no, she could still feel eyes burning into the back of her head. She was walking hurridly down the street, her feet scuffling on the stones, when she ran into some one. Without looking up, fearing it was an elf, she said, "Beg my pardon sir. I did not mean to run into you so."