The Troubles of The Weak

Looking around the somewhat bustling center of the tucked-away village, she noticed that the passing by primorelves mostly kept to themselves--taking short glances at her.

--I guess there isn't much to expect from a village tucked inside of a cavern, but they don't seem very well off.

Bringing her sight back down to the fidgeting elder, who was fiddling with the collar of his olive tunic--Iris let out a huff as no answer came from Heldjrim. As soon as she began to turn with the intention of leaving the village, he finally spoke up.

"--Missus! Alright, alright. I'm not supposed to disclose this information, not around them...Come with me to my cottage, come, come."