Iorweth, an elven partisan and commander of a Scoia'tael unit, sat on a sturdy tree branch high in the forest canopy after completing another successful mission to attack a dh'oine. He was surrounded by the calming tranquility of nature, the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind, the quiet chirping of birds in the trees, and the calming tranquility of the forest, in which he could finally rest.

Having settled himself comfortably in the shade of the tree crown, the elf took out his flute, which he liked to play in his free time, and brought it to his lips. Iorwet'hs slender fingers danced nimbly over the instrument, extracting a soft, melancholy melody from its wooden frame. The notes floated softly in the air, carried by a light breeze. For the elf, this was a moment of respite, a brief escape from the chaos and violence that constantly surrounded him.