Roynar
Kaleyl stepped into the shadows behind the tent, thankful to have given her sister the slip. It was the Festival of Reyes, and the middle of it all was the last place she wanted to be.
It wasn't that she wasn't pleased that her village was celebrating it's third anniversary - indeed, she had been pleasantly surprised at the changes that had been made in her absence. Lusk had a new meeting center, and the gazebo in the center of the village still smelled of fresh oak. The Luskans no longer lived in fear of orc attacks, for a treaty had been made with the nearby city for protection in exchange for goods and services. Many of the village's boys proudly wore the uniform of the militia, it's crisp red fabric a striking contrast against their golden skin.
Not that she was interested in any of the males, either. Intellectually, most of them were only a notch above still suckling at their mother's breast. There were handsome ones, there was no denying that... but every man Kal had ever met had one thing in mind, and one thing only. Certainly, she wasn't as pure as the driven snow, but she didn't care to jump in bed with every elf that came along, either.
A flash of red caught her glance, and for a moment Kaleyl thought it was her auburn haired sister coming to find her. The suffocation of the crowd was just too much for the ranger, and as she toyed with her own fiery locks, she silently wished she'd never let Arien talk her into coming. The fact was, Kaleyl just wasn't a people person. All her experiences had shown her that people - humans and elves - were a distrustful manipulating bunch. She preferred the solitude of the forest, and the company of it's creatures. Which, incidentally, was where she was about to head when she heard a voice she'd not heard in many years.
"Kaleyl Malinoi." The voice chuckled softly.
The ranger sighed heavily.
"Great, just what I need," she thought.
Turning around, she plastered a fake smile upon her face.
"Roynar Corineth. What a pleasure it is to see you again." Her words dripped with sarcasm she took no pains to disguise.
"Ah Kaleyl!" The elf clutched his hand to his chest. "You wound me! Have you not forgiven me for my transgressions of so long ago?"
Kaleyl eyed him emotionlessly. Yes, it had been a long time ago. But 15 years of relentless teasing tended to make one hold a grudge.
"Aw come on, Kaleyl... we were children."
The woman sighed. Perhaps he was right. Still, she didn't plan on speaking to him long.
"How have you been, Roynar?"
"Come now, you're not going to stay way over there, are you? Come over here into the light.. let me take a look at you."
Kal groaned inwardly and rolled her eyes, but plodded her way over to him, forcing a smile to her face once again.
"You've not changed much."
The elf took did little to hide his gazes path over her body, lingering near the strained ties of her top.
"Oh, you certainly have, Kaleyl." He smiled coyly, his tongue slipping up over his lip. "Perhaps you'd like to join me for some Evermead." As he took a step closer, it was apparent from the reek of his breath that he'd already had his share of the Evermeet's best mead, and then some.
"I'm really not that thirsty, but thank you anyway," she replied.
The half-elf began to back away, but Roynar unexpectedly advanced with her, slipping his arm around her waist, and letting his hand trail down to her ass, pulling her against him, and breathing heavily into her ear.
"You know you want some." It was obvious he wasn't referring to the drink.
Kaleyl's shock kept her stationary for a brief moment, unable to believe the audacity of this one. How dare he touch her? She slipped her hands between their bodies just as his drunken lips found her throat, and she shoved him purposefully.
"Don't you dare touch me." Her eyes burned angrily into him.
"What's the matter, too damn good to spread your legs for a real elf, Ranger?"
The last word pierced her like poisoned fangs, and she trembled with rage that had built up inside her for all the years of his taunts. 'Look at me! I'm Kaleyl the *ranger*.' Endlessly, over and over he ridiculed her. And for what? Why? Because she was different... because she was a half-elf in a village of elves, because she was a tomboy, because she preferred the company of the woodlands to the likes of his wretched waste of skin.
Summoning up every ounce of restraint, she stared him down coldly.
"That WILL be the last time you ridicule me, Roynar Corineth. The last time."
With a threatening glare of finality, she turned briskly, and began to walk away.
"Fucking bitch," he spat. "Ranger."
Kaleyl whirled about to face him, her bow seeming to magically appear in her hand, the arrow nocked and in flight scarcely before he'd noticed her turn. It lodged itself into his lower thigh with a sickening thud of metal against bone, and the elf howled with pain, looking down to his leg incredulously.
"You... you fucking shot me!"
Sobs issued forth from a mouth that only moments ago so menacingly spat at her, and his whimpers brought a smile to her face as she made her way back to him.
"I'll get you for this," he threatened.
But the threats of a blubbering drunk only made the ranger laugh rather emotionlessly. She reached down and broke the arrow tip off, sending an outraged howl of agony from Roynar's lips, and as his tortured muscles refused to grant him stance, he fell to the ground.
"A souvenir," she quipped dryly. "And next time, I won't miss."