Wild Berry Meadow dread doctor

The flaxen elf's ears twitch in contriteness - despite the tone of jest - even as her face crumples vaguely in confusion. "I apologize," she murmured uncertainly - wondering silently why he had drawn her attention to him if he would only be bothered by her presence. Elve chalks it up to his joke and her unfamiliarity with the locals and the ways of the southerners. 

She dared to dance a few steps closer, curling her golden haunches upon the earth and leveling the soft-spoken shadow with a curious blue stare. 

"T'is woman is called Elve," she introduced herself, the words followed by a gentle curl of amusement across her lips. "Does ta sleeping man 'ave a name?"