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The Vampaegan switched back to human form and approached the Elf’s back. His eyes shone yellow and green in the shadows of the moonlight, and his hair blended with the sky.1

“I was going to turn you in to the Shreaggans, but you interest me. I’ll let you live, if you let me do the same.”2

The Elf spun around and fell into a wary fighting stance. The Vampaegan was standing just on the edge of the meadow, just between the clearing and the trees, the light and the dark. He smirked.3

“Don’t come any closer!”4

“I won’t hurt you,” he answered, taking a step further. “No more than you hurt me.”5

“What do you want with me? Do you want my blood, or is there something more you would like to take from me? I’ve met tragedy from your kind before, and I have no trust for the like of you.”6

That caused him to pause. “Tragedy? And yet you live. What could have been so tragic?”7

“There are things much worse than death, cretin. Be gone or I’ll slay thee!”8

“Fine,” he said, turning, “but I’ll be back. As I said, you interest me.”
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