Eliza
Her scooped nose scrunched at the comment of his intellect, and she shook her head, long locks falling a bit in her face so she had to blow them up and away. She looked at the ground for a moment and scuffed at the dirt with her bare foot. “I think you’ve been told wrong,” she said, her wings lifting slightly.
“Interesting is one word for it,” she muttered. It wasn’t that she was against the festival or any kind of respect and acknowledgement of Rae, but she preferred to do it in the little ways. She went without shoes whenever possible, whistled with the birds when they sang, took seeds from flowers that had been plucked and planted them. She wasn’t a fan of the large celebrations because she felt one day per year was pretty meaningless if that’s all that’s acknowledged.
The girl looked him up and down and realized that she would probably have to get used to feeling small if these new people were going to be adventuring in the Greatwood. “I am Eliza,” she said, willingly giving her full first name for the first time to someone outside of the Fae.
