[Halbereth Diagona]

Sorell watched from the trees, watched and wondered. He leapt down and went to the elf. Crouching beside the ravenous eater, he realised that this elf was not crazy, just sad, traumatised and incredibly depressed. He whispered to him,
"Hello, my name is Sorell."
The elf mumbled "Snaga."
Sorell bent closer and asked a question.
"Do you know of faeries? I am one of their kin."
The elf suddenly yelled out, and threw his bowl behind him. Then he thrashed around with his arms and legs, screaming out. His hand caught Sorell on the cheek, and he was thrown back. He sat up, holding a bleeding cheek. Collette ran up.
"What did you say to him?" she yelled at Sorell. Then, not waiting to hear the answer, she went to sooth the elf.
This was so unfair, that she should assume it were his fault, that Sorell was speechless. All he had done was tell the elf he was a faery. Everyone else had spoken to him. But the minute he went wacko, Sorell got the blame. That was very distinctly unfair. Sorell got up and flew off. He didn't say much, but that didn't mean that they could all put the blame on him. He healed his cheek-no-one cared about that, he supposed, and flew off to his tree.