"Honestly, seeing you here was quite a surprise."
Through the iron bars of the slave pen, Tang could make out a Drow Elf hidden in the darkness among several other captives.
Shadows concealed most of her face, but he had only ever met one female Drow. Her familiar voice was enough to tell him who she was.
So he turned to Night Wind. "She's talking to you."
Sweat instantly soaked Night Wind's back. He forced himself to meet his sister's gaze.
"What are you doing here?"
The Drow gave a soft laugh. "My dear little brother, don't flatter yourself. I wasn't asking you. You're not that important anymore."
"Shut up."
Seeing them chatting through the bars, Mero felt slighted. He opened the gate and kicked Night Wind into the pen.
He was about to teach the other two the same lesson, but Tang and Shalti had already walked obediently inside. Tang even waved to him.
"Thanks for showing us the way."
"Surface freaks," Mero muttered. His eyes shifted as some thought crossed his mind. After closing the gate, he ordered two slaves to guard it and slipped quietly into the shadows.
The two guards were slightly hunched but powerfully built. Dirty, tangled blue-gray fur covered their bodies, and rough breaths occasionally rasped from their throats. They looked like a pair of uncivilized wild men.
They were Marsh Bearfolk, whose origins might have stretched back to the same era as the Elves'.
In the past, the Marsh Bearfolk had been more like a nomadic people. They were considered barbaric, but they had not been uncivilized. As nocturnal hunters of the forests, however, they often clashed with the Elves, until they were driven underground to cling to survival.
Over their long years below ground, their fur lost its color and their eyes