Seol Plumfall

The young elf leaned his head back against the cushions, watching the violet-skinned girl dry her hair. With those fragile wrists and tiny fingers, her small body curving forward, the delicate shapes of her spine and shoulderblades showing through the thin cloth of her undershirt, she was roughly scrubbing her head and horns without a hint of elegance or grace. She lowered the cloth and tossed her wet hair, sneezed, and smeared her nose against her arm; then she blinked as the boy began to laugh at her.

He restrained his chuckling and shook his head, a characteristic awkward smile twisting his lips, and waved apologetically at the glaring girl. "You are cute," he said, truthfully.

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