Torryn quickly unleashed another pair of arrows from Miir, his powerful magical longbow, flinging the last two gnolls through the air like ragdolls. He’d been hunting the beasts for hours when he found signs that they were pursuing a lone woman just as the thunder-crack brought him running. Now, with the gnolls and dire wolves dead, he took stock of their intended prey; who had nearly been too much for them on her own. Standing boldly with her sword at the ready, she eyed him with a cautious, measuring stare, as he did the same to her. He had to admire how she handled herself, not to mention her slender, lithesome figure and stunningly beautiful features. She was clearly a sun elf based on her fine, gilded skin, brilliant emerald eyes, short mane of silken black hair and sharply tapered ears, but her clothes seemed more than a little impractical for the forest, and then there was her sword… a moonblade, if he wasn’t mistaken. Syn eyed the archer for a long moment, trying to determine his intent without provoking him; all too aware that her savior could become her foe in a mere heartbeat. Dressed in dark forester’s leathers, only a faint trace of pale features could be seen within his hood. A scimitar hung in a back-scabbard over his shoulder, but it was his powerful bow that was surely the greatest threat; she’d never seen, or even heard of, it’s like. She tensed as a coiled snake ready to strike when he slowly moved his hand upward, but he intentionally kept it well clear of both his quiver and the hilt of his scimitar, taking hold of his hood instead and drawing it back to reveal finely honed, handsome features cast in light coppery skin, a long mane of sandy blonde hair and sharply tapered ears like her own, all of which marked him as a wood elf. But his eyes were stunning sky blue; only moon elves had such eyes. Then he broke the strained silence between them by smirking glibly; “Torryn Audark at your service… and you’re welcome.” He expected at least a hint of a smile at his remark, but instead she snarled, raising her sword; “Go back to Everlund and tell the Ealoeths and my family that I will not be sold. I’ll die without an heir before allowing this to become theirs!” “This forest is my home… you’re the one who should return to Everlund before something worse finds you,” he shot back venomously. Being ungrateful was one thing, but to accuse him of something to do with slavery and being an agent of a disreputable sun elven house, after he’d saved her life, was intolerable. Dismissing her as just another overly smug adventurer who thought she could conquer the High Forest, he turned to leave but Miir throbbed demandingly in his hand. He knew the sentient bow had a supernatural sense for people’s motives and was not above turning her abilities on him to make a point; she’d done so in the past. Turning back to her, he grudgingly offered; “Skilled as you are with sword and spell, this forest is not a place to be traveled lightly. Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll see you there safely.” Syn was about to reject his offer, but the reluctance in his tone spoke of some kind of obligation, and she was all but lost within the vast woodlands. But could she trust him? “How do I know you’re not working for the Ealoeths or my family?” “I’ve no interest in what happens beyond these woods, but I have no way to prove that other than my word,” he replied with an aggravated huff, “so you can accept it or fend for yourself.”