Prince Aesril held the Mask of Caree in his hand. He sat on a wooden stool fixed against the floor.
Gelethorn sat on the bed opposite of him holding the same mask they wore to hide against the humans. He looked pale, and cold to the touch, but the veins of the blackish nightmare wore off.
"No more hiding," Gelethorn said, folding the mask and hiding it under his shirt. Gelethorn was a wood-elf. One of the three purest elves. One of which was the most distinguishable, brown hair, brown eyes, but never broad as Gelethorn. Wide shoulder and square jaw. He looked like he could crush anything between his hands.
"No more hiding," Prince Aesril repeated. Golden hair messed up the smooth of his face. Golden eyes flickering as he stared at the mask in his hand, unable to look Gelethorn to the eyes.
