She could feel him stepping away, fire by his side."No..."
Her breathing became ragged in her haste, all caution haphazardly tossed aside long ago.
"Please Balthe..."
she didn't know why she kept saying his name, or why she was running. She only knew that she had to get to him with all haste.
She tripped over a bodiless arm, scraping her arm and healing it quickly. Her speed upset, however, she remained sitting on the ground. Her eyes slid closed and she began to cry, huge wrenching sobs that tore from her.
"Don't leave me by myself...not again!"

A young, dark skinned, elf sat in the shadows of a destroyed building watching homless people walk among the rubble wailing for the lost homes. His leather boots reached his knees and his long, flowing, arcane looking cloak reached just above the soles of his boots. He rubbed a hand through his white, short-cropped, hair. He smiled wryly as he felt the scars that marked him as a godless one. His deep, emerald green, eyes glinted out from the shadows. He reached into his cloack and brought out two daggers. He slid the blades up his sleeves and made sure they were poised over the slits in the arms. He then laced up the sleeves and stepped out of the shadows. People jumped as they saw him, but after awhile they went back to their work. Standing 6 feet tall he towered above most elfs and was an impressive site. His black cloth pants were tucked into his boots and a silk shirt was tied off at the waist with some rope. He turned left and started to walk toward what looked like a ruined church.