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Running and hiding, theres been lots of that the past few days... He knew a forest would be his refuge. Enough cover and creatures to distract large groups if they were to find him. Remaining hidden was key to his survival, but he also wouldn't last long without shelter.

He stumbled on that old long since visited cottage in the woods, he remembered his time hiding away there as he learned to read. He will have to use that place once more to shelter him from the outside world.

A witch being there was a bit more than he bargained for, however as he likes to say "Beggars can't be choosers" and besides she could perhaps be of some use to him.

A dark haired elfess sits up late into the night accompanied only by the dim flicker of candlelight and the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep coming from the next room. Spread before her are parchments written in a heavy hand and carelessly spattered with ink. She tightens the robe around her and slumps down in the chair, feet resting on the edge of the desk as she runs a slender finger down a long, sloppy list, her lips forming each word as she reads. She folds the paper carefully making it quite small and secrets it into her bodice before gathering up the rest of the pile and holding it to the candle. The parchments are well in flames before she trusts the remnants to the fireplace.