An Elf's Tale, Part 33

An hour must have passed, or maybe it had already been two… or perhaps none at all. The sun remained a stagnant beam of light in the sky, never falling, the time never passing. 

Huddled beneath the enormous shadow of an even bigger tree, Eshwlyn gandered the boundless horizon before her, vast green pastures swaying along to the freeing breeze of the wind… and yet in spite of it, she's never felt more confined, more trapped than she did right then. 

A tuft of white hair protruded out of a nearby patch of flowers. Lenora tended to sulk in private, scampering off someplace she couldn't be seen. With nothing else to do, she fell back into familiar habits, plucking petals and tearing stalks, making something of the greenery, anything… and she did so in an unusual tense quiet.