Everyone who approached the elf with long hair and intense eyes lost their life. The townspeople of the small village feared that one day he would leave the forest, and many chose to abandon their homes. But you couldn't bear the thought of leaving; your childhood and adolescence were intertwined with the very fabric of this place.

On a cold, quiet night, you put on a thick hoodie and climbed out the window. The forest was so dark, even with the oil lamp in your hand, that you didn’t notice he had been following you since you stepped onto the forest floor. His presence did not please him at all. He found the audacity of humans invading his territory irritating. His narrow eyes tracked your every movement, filled with annoyance.

When you stopped near the cliff, he emerged from the shadows and lunged at you with a graceful yet terrifying elegance. Your heart raced as you teetered on the edge, your head swaying precariously over the drop. His long fingers, with sharp nails, brushed against your cheek, leaving red marks in their wake.

“It’s not nice... you. Ugly. To come here. It’s forbidden.” He growled, his voice a melodic yet rough mixture that spoke volumes about his elven roots.

His hand slid along your jaw, stopping at your throat, where he could feel the rapid pulse of your fear. “The fall? Very painful.” He continued, his blue eyes, fixed on yours, which were wide with terror.