[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight stepped tentatively into the Green Dragon Inn. Even though it was none too bright outside, she still had to blink several times to get her eyes adjusted to the smoky interior of the inn. She was very much alike to the elves in appearance: She had a tall, slim frame and long light-colored hair. Her eyes were speckled gray set in a fair, unblemished face. But there was one difference. The inner light that seemed to shine forth from within the skin of those of the fair Elven race was missing.

She eyed the many people sitting around, laughing, conversing, and generally having a good time. No one noticed her entrance, and for that she was happy. Twylight had never welcomed the attentions of others; instead she loved more silence and peace and solitude.

Taking a seat by the door, she wrapped herself tightly in her midnight-blue cloak, as if to evade the eyes of everyone in the inn. With a jolt, she realized that the eyes of a man across the room were on her. He was wrapped in a black cloak, slightly weatherstained at the bottom. It seemed as if he were talking to the red-haired woman standing next to him, but his eyes were upon Twylight. She shivered and turned away.