Averiel led the Daggerfordians through the forest and along several narrow animal-paths. It seemed to Angis that she was leading them on an unnecessarily complicated route, perhaps so they would need her help to find their way back. He pushed his suspicions aside for now, to avoid conflict, but he made a mental note of every twist and turn.
Eventually they came to a defensible clearing, with a wall of dwarven stones on one side, covered with moss, and a stand of large trees on the other. The encampment within was temporary, with everything ready to be stricken and moved at a moment's notice. But it seemed as if it had been there forever, with plants growing up the sides of tent-poles and mosses for entry-mats. It was well camouflaged.
Enseth calculated that it was a small hunting party that lived here. No more than twenty could be sheltered here, and some must be out scouting, as Averiel had been. A falcon watched from its perch above the most beautiful of the tents. Averiel led the group inside while they were watched by other elves, who seemed suspicious, but not hostile.
"I present you to Alagarthas, son of Melandrach, and prince of the Misty Forrest." said Averiel, bowing low.
A haughty young elf-prince stood in front of a bear-skin chair, his beautifully crafted bow and quiver rested on a stand within arm's reach. The floor of his tent was a thick moss which grew in patterns creating the effect of a fine rug. He nodded and held out a hand in greeting.
