Ye Qingxue nearly choked. "If this is what old age looks like for elves, sign me up!"
Ling Yu almost smiled but held herself back. The elves' grace wasn't unfamiliar to her, but the aura these three carried went beyond mere beauty; it was divinity born of nature's blessing itself.
The head elder approached her slowly, his eyes calm but penetrating. The closer he came, the more the other elves lowered their heads in respect.
When he finally stood before Ling Yu, the air grew thick with energy. He studied her for a long, silent moment. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
"Dragon Slayer," he said softly, his voice like wind through the leaves. "You carry the scent of destruction and creation both. It has been centuries since such a presence stepped upon our soil."
Ling Yu bowed her head slightly in greeting. "Elder."
