An Elf's Tale, Part 4

It was the first time she's ever shouted, the first time she's ever argued back to her so vehemently. Eshwlyn had never known a resolve more stubborn. 

In her own way, it seems, Lenora had inherited her own kind of unwavering strength. A type of strength, that for all of her brawn and might - she could never possibly hope to match. 

The first day was the hardest for her to swallow. 

Going against a lifetime of honed instinct, the searing screams of every one of her senses, and even against her own better nature - Eshwlyn sheathed her sword and stifling her every malevolent impulse, assisted her younger sister, relieving her of the burden and the reprehensible experience of having to carry a human.

Something Lenora managed to do so frighteningly easy.