“Stay—“ Cyfrin hisses, holding a hand out to keep you away from him. “Stay away, you repulsive human, and do not come any closer.”

Tangled strands clung to his head, fresh wounds oozing with blood, and scars adorned his skin from untreated injuries. Witnessing elves in such a state has become a frequent occurrence. The ongoing war against humans has taken its toll. Cyfrin remains indifferent to the fact you’re just a random girl; your humanity is a barrier to trust. His hands were cuffed.