"Most humans end up like this when they get old," the innkeeper's tone was calm, devoid of any joy or sorrow.
"Elves probably can't understand the pain of being human."
"What kind of pain?"
"Human birth is meant to better embrace death." The innkeeper paused her knitting, looking up at Ilodyer.
Her blue eyes had already clouded with a layer of gray.
"Noble beings like you elves probably can't understand it."
"...Are you mocking us?"
Ilodyer dangerously narrowed his black eyes, "Or are you envying the humans's bodies that can die naturally right now?"
Ilodyer's words were eerie, but the innkeeper still spoke in a calm tone, "Perhaps both."
"Hmph, boring old hag." Ilodyer took a sip of mead, "Just wait for death to come to you..."
Ilodyer looked at her, and resting his chin on his hand, "Oh, it seems, even after hundreds of years pass by, people will still be able to see you, right?"
