The Elf (17)
Ling Zheng embraced his chest with both hands and leaned on the thick tree behind him, not caring about the red marks created by the rough bark on his back, his brows were deeply furrowed and his thin lips were pursed into a heavy frown.
He lowered his head, the black hair that fell on his forehead covered his erratic eyes, revealing only half of his face below the tip of his nose. The sun at noon was extremely bright, and the mottled light and shadows fell onto the top of his head through the dense canopy of trees. With the shaking of the branches and leaves, the light spot would also sway on the handsome face of the young elf.
Ling Zheng, who was resting quietly against the tree, looked calm and solemn, but the force of his fingers that clutched against his arms completely revealed his anxious mood at the moment.