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Arafunn flew across the skies, sighing. The old elf, despite being over eight hundred years old, resembled a young man at his early twenties, with long blonde hair and sharp green eyes. He flew more and more, until he finally stopped flying, stopping right over a fluffy white cloud, and pretending to rest over there by floating with his wind.
He often did this many times when he wanted to escape from the world and the people on it. He was never good at dealing with people, he was raised filled with many things that others lacked, but his parents, being very old elves, never gave him any attention, and were often devoid of emotions.
The only love he remembers to have experienced in his childhood were the servants he had, which took good care of him, but they were never near as much of a figure to be considered his parents, and never really helped him to improve his many personal problems.
