TWO
Marcy pumped the handle to get water from the well and fill the last of the canteens. Humming to herself, she began to sing. So lost was she in the song, an old ballad on the Sublinate/Culler War, she did not hear anyone approach. The sound of clapping startled her into dropping the canteen. Water spilled out onto the ground, quickly soaked up by the dry sand around the well. A large human man stood, leaning against the outer wall of the tavern. While she eyed him suspiciously, he stepped forward and picked up the canteen, handing it back to her.
“We don’t get too many elven women around here,” he commented.
“I’m just passing through.” She stepped to the side, edging her way past him, but he matched her steps, not giving her an easy opening to leave. A good two heads taller and broa
