The wall-climbing ivy, withered to a crisp on the wall, shook in the bitter chill of early winter. Its dry twigs and leaves collided in the wind, producing an occasional rustling sound.
The young scholarship student, slightly embarrassed with the little elves' paper house in his arms, looked toward the two wizards standing at the end of the hall. Deep in his heart, he desperately hoped for a couple of naughty Tree Elves to scurry out from the withered ivy branches above him, to help him rid of his current awkwardness.
But he knew, in the end, it was just wishful thinking. After all, it was winter. Whether they were Tree Elves or Grass Elves, any elf with a clear mind was already hiding deep in their caves, waiting for the moist ambiance of spring rains to awaken them.
The two wizards standing at the end of the hall seemed completely oblivious to the young scholarship student's inner hopes.
