The Elves

"Oh, it talks," Draven muttered, tilting his head.

Then, he glanced at Gil. 

"Is this normal?"

Gil's expression remained tense. 

"No. No beast has ever spoken."

Draven's gaze flicked back to the Lycan.

Naisha's dagger remained firmly pressed against its throat.

"What are you?" She asked coldly.

The remaining Lycans tensed, their muscles ready to strike.

But they hesitated because one of their own was a hostage.

The Lycan under Naisha's blade lowered its gaze to the ground.

Then, in a quiet voice, it spoke.

"We are Lycans. But we are not."

Draven's eyes narrowed.

He took a step forward, studying the creature.

"What do you mean?"

The Lycan did not answer.

Then another Lycan moved.

Gil and Naisha tensed, ready to strike. 

But to their surprise, the Lycan moved not to attack.

Instead, it kneeled.