A chill blew through the air as Elowen trudged through the woodlands that covered Endapano. Such a trek would usually be rather easy for the Dryad to make, with her experience of living deep within a forest for most of her years. However, her boots had a tendency to get stuck in mud or caught up on vines. Honestly, the shoes were doing more harm than good. So she sat down, leaning against a tree, and removed them. With a sight of relief, Wen took a moment to rest, enjoying the soft sounds of nature and distant echoes of wood elves. Slowly, she closed her golden eyes.

The experience reminded her of her younger days, when she would spend hours sitting in solitude, simply viewing the etches of life around her. Other Dryads from her part of the forest would use this as a method of meditation, but Wen would always let her mind wander and dream. Perhaps that was a reason they viewed her as immature for her age. "Ah, well…" she hummed to herself, picking a few of the many leaves and twigs from her mess of green hair. "Not everyone can have my sense of imagination."

She chuckled lightly to herself, taking note of a few creatures scurrying away at the sudden noise. Some trees nearby were disturbed by something. Curiously, Elowen opened her eyes and crawled around the tree she had been leaning on, peering through the bushes. Her golden eyes widened. An elk was cautiously observing a bush, presumably so it could eat it. Wen's attention was captured by the graceful animal, and she hardly noticed anything else around her.

Satire was in her favorite spot in the forest, up a tall tree. She supported herself on the thickest branches it had to offer so near the top and balanced herself on the weaker ones, watching how much weight she put on them. She had been hunting most of the day and had a few squirrels hanging from a rope around her shoulders, one still bleeding. Her breath stopped when she heard the soft pats and cracks of a large animal moving through the green underbrush. Her keen green eyes peered as she adjusted her position to see. Beautiful, she thought when her eyes finally alighted on the large elk heading her way. Her entrancement with his large antlers and glistening soft fur stole her attention until it was too late. A Dryad leaned against her tree. Satire went stiff and accidentally caused some birds to take flight from the tree. Satire was a light and graceful Elf, she loved to hunt and just be in the woods but she tried hard to make sure she was never near other beings besides the animals. Although she felt more comfortable in her Elf shape she preferred the company of animals over other beings. If she didn't have the squirrels, which she was banking on to fill her belly so she wouldn't have to make a trip into the city, she would just take flight in her hawk form and disappear from notice. All of a sudden the girl spoke, Satire tensed thinking that she had been spotted somehow, but no the girl was just speaking to herself. Was she crazy? Debating what to do she shifted her weight a bit too much and opened one of the stomaches on a squirrel a bit more, blood and gore dripped down her arm and fell. Please don't fall on the girl she grimaced and prayed. 

Because she was so focused on the elk, Elowen did not register the sudden movement from above until it startled the creature, causing it to run off into the forest. Instinctively, Wen reached a hand out after it, putting herself directly in the path of a falling splash of blood. It fell directly onto her head, dripping down her hair and onto her face. A shocked yelp left her throat, and the Dryad jerked her head up to see whose blood had fallen on her. Other than being caught slightly off-guard, the blood did not phase her all that much, at least, not the fact that it was sticking in her already messy hair. Catching sight of a woman in the trees, Wen's expression shifted to one of worry.

"Hello, miss," she greeted, her golden eyes struggling to locate the source of the gore. "Are you hurt? You seem to have spilled on me." She reached a pale green hand out to the tree on which she was situated, feeling each of its limbs until she sensed the woman's aura. She did not appear to be wounded, though Wen's ability to sense people's auras was a weak one, only possessed because of her connection to plant life. "Or did you do that on purpose?" she murmured, mostly to herself; she did believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, but she was becoming increasingly aware that may not be the smartest way to travel.

Satire's face screwed up into a grimace when she was spotted. But she just signed and swung down a little bit closer to the dryad, staying out of reach. She was curious when the girl touched the tree, her animal side noticing that she was affecting the tree and possibly Satire in some way. This sense made her a bit nervous and ready to abandon her kills to escape at any moment, but she thought twice and decided to take the human way out and hopefully talk her way to safety so she wouldn't have to abandon her dinner and come into contact with more beings later to get dinner in the city. "No, sorry. I just have some squirrels that are still a bit fresh and bleeding" her voice was rough and scratchy from lack of use, but still held the tinkling beauty to it that most elves held. Satire glanced around worriedly, just now wondering if the girl maybe was a trap and that she might have bigger friends waiting in the woods to take her belongings. She felt her teeth lengthen a bit in her mouth, becoming more pointed. She wouldn't let anyone take her stuff without a fight she had worked hard for this measly life she lived. 

Elowen patted her hair with a grimace, feeling the sticky blood coat her fingers. "…I would be lying if I said this did not bother me," she stated, swiveling her head around to see if there was a nearby stream or pond she could use to wash the substance off. Luckily, there seemed to be one fairly close. When she turned to ask the woman if she wanted to accompany her, she could sense her tensing up. "Oh dear, are you alright? You're so pale all of a sudden," the Dryad asked with a hint of concern. Wen gently placed the back of her hand against the elf's forehead. She did not appear to have a fever. Was something else wrong? She suddenly wished she had taken one of Randal's medical books with her on this journey.

"Do you need to lie down? Or perhaps you are dehydrated…?" Her green hand pulled back as she habitually began tapping her chin. Slowly, her golden eyes drifted down to the few squirrels the elf had killed. Strange for an elf to also be a huntress, since it was such a violent job, though Wen wasn't too surprised. But that did raise a few questions. Did she have pure intentions? Was she a part of a more violent group? Shaking her head, Wen chuckled. She was being silly and dramatic. "My name is Elowen Hex," she greeted, enthusiastically extending her hand for a handshake.