Morne and Essenla sat in a room within the Mother Tree. It was as brown as one would expect, and the only furniture inside was a wooden table that grew from the tree floor.
Essenla was being examined by Anhela, the resident healer of the village.
The elf had an exhausted air about her, with dark green bags under her eyes that marred her natural beauty and the signature green and brown sleeveless robes of a Dryad.
Still, she did her duty diligently. After pricking Essenla's wrist with a rigid pine needle – between her glove and the sleeve of her leather armor – the elf brought the damp needle up to her face and closed her eyes.
She muttered words too low for Morne to hear, and the blood on the needle's tip started to glow. When the glow dimmed back to nothing, she opened her eyes with a worried look.
