"My name is Afra, and I have existed for three thousand years. A day has blended into the next, and nothing was special. Until the Lost One stomped on some of the plants that had more than just their flora life." she said as she placed her hands in her lap.
I'm impatient; she's taking too long to give me information that is needed. I have no care for her name or how long she's existed; I've existed for much longer.
But I decide to humor her and sit across from her as she takes another breath, her eyes on the ground.
"He was filled with so many colors, and something else. My people saw him better than I; he selfishly drunk the waters, and ripped plants out at the root. At one point, he fashioned a branch into a spear. I will never forget the screams that were made until the branch was broken." she said, and she shuddered as if the memory was still fresh in her mind.
