Returning his attention to the young elf, Michael found her captivating. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but with elves, it was always hard to tell; they aged differently, more slowly. She could be fifty, or five hundred, but damn, she was hot. Her features were sculpted, almost too perfect: high cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips, and eyes that sparkled with an inner fire. Elvens were naturally blessed with beauty but she was beautiful even by elven standards.
"Yeah, look at other chicks while your wife is sitting right here," Gaya muttered, her voice laced with a sarcasm that did not quite mask the annoyance beneath.
"Great move, human."
Michael chuckled, turning towards Gaya, a playful glint in his eyes. "Jealous, are we?" he asked softly.