Beth stared at the giant thing that blocked her path along the trail trail. She held her dagger in a loose, relaxed grip as she waited to see if her potential opponent would make a move. It didn't look like a predator, but she knew well that appearances could be deceiving.

The animal had a shell, like a turtle, but it was also hairy – and huge.

The of its shell was a few hands over her head and it was wider than she was tall.

Beth was leaning strongly towards considering the slowly ambling creature harmless when she heard some scuffling from the trail on the other side of it.

Beth reacted instantly, cloaking herself in darkness as she retreated to the shadow of the woods. She had encountered a few angry monkeys and several lone shadow raptors since her fight with the first pair, but she had also found tracks left by larger groups of the dangerous creatures and a few clawed footprints left by something many times her size and weight. She wasn’t the apex predator in Skotos’ forest, not by a wide margin.

She stilled her breathing as she listened carefully. She grimaced as the babble of words reached her ears.

Did the elves find me?

Beth listened for any words, but all she could pick out was the sound that gave the elves their name. As far as she and everyone else from the Golden Plains could tell, every third or fourth word was “elf”.

James had claimed that the short, hairy, long-eared creatures were some kind of proto-humans, or “early hominids” as he liked to call them. He didn’t actually know anything about them, but he speculated that they were probably not as smart as modern humans.

Beth didn’t know what to make of that – if these were early humans were there late humans as well? Could they think better than Beth did? Or would they just look better? She had never grasped the evolution stuff that James went on about, other that the obvious fact that weak things got eaten.

The distracting thoughts were cleared from her mind when a great clatter arose from the path. She risked a peek and saw that a group of elves had decided to launch an assault on the shelled creature, discarding their sharpened sticks and instead attacking with heavy clubs and stones. In response, it hunkered down on the ground and concealed its vulnerable parts. The rocks and soil around it crawled over its shell under the influence of some ability, reinforcing its protection.

Beth waited for the elves to change tactics, but they continued with their mostly ineffective assault, their heavy clubs and large stones bouncing off the creature's fortified shell.

You guys aren’t even going to try to flip it over? How the hell did these people make boats?

She had to admit that they didn’t seem to tire, only taking breaks to get more weapons when their current club broke or stone crumbled. Eventually – after so long a wait that Beth sneaked away for a quick food and rest break before coming back – one of them managed to break through the creature’s shell. They hooted with victory and pulled out their previously discarded wooden spears, which they jabbed into the creature’s new weak point.

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Well, that’s evolution I guess, since the elves won. And somehow the shadow raptors haven’t eaten them all, so I guess that they’re doing something right.

Beth couldn’t help but wonder if killing their king would actually stop the attacks on the Golden Plains. Are these guys even organized? What if they’re just getting bored of eating forest food and get on rafts to find something different?

Beth watched with interest as the elves discussed what to do next, hoping to learn more about their organization. She was quickly disappointed.

Their discussion was more squabble than talk, with too much gesticulation and too few words. A few of the elves even wandered off to shared some leaf-rolled snacks while the rest continued their game of charades. Once the small group of deciders finally came to a consensus, they shouted at the snackers and the gesturing began anew.

I almost want to teach them language just to hurry things up, Beth grumbled.

After several additional minutes of energetic gestures, the elves finally rolled the creature onto its back and began to drag it away. Beth followed on the off-chance that they would take her somewhere useful, or that she gain a sudden insight into their ‘elf elf elf’ language. After half an hour of intense grunting, during which Beth learned nothing, the elves finally managed to shove the dead animal into a small stream. Beth watched with interest as the creature’s giant shell served as a raft and the body began to float along the water.

Huh, I guess that’s clever.

Beth peeked at the water and saw that it was deeper than she had thought, and clear of any debris or overhanging branches. I guess that they must maintain this. Maybe this king knows what he’s doing.

Beth watches as the elves prodded the shelled giant with their spears, keeping it centered in the water. And then she grew bored.

It had taken them nearly an hour to kill the thing and another half an hour to get it into the water. How long would they walk with it?

The group was also incredibly inefficient; Beth was sure that they could have prodded the floating corpse to move it faster, or tied some ropes to it and dragged it with the current. Instead they just meandered along, gesturing and talking to one another, and occasionally stopped to gather leaves or fruits and stuff them into the pouches that adorned their simple hide clothing. Occasionally one of them would mimic the sounds of the wildlife around them, and then another would respond with their own attempt, making some type of competition out of it.

I guess they aren’t in a rush.

Beth could help a feeling that something was off as she watched them. She wanted to circle around the group and leave them behind, but that oddness kept drawing her eye.

I guess it’s like James said: they’re almost like me, but not.

The group finally reached a large clearing alongside the river where they had a small settlement resting on a small hill that overlooked the stream. More elves descended from the hilltop when they saw the hunters return, and soon the air was filled with the sounds of “elf elf elf.”

She had thought James’ fascination with studying the elves sounded dumb, but she had to admit that seeing them had made her curious. Was their language as limited as it sounded? Did their clothes look sloppy because they couldn’t do better? Or was it because they expected them to be ruined while traipsing through the forest anyway? Were they actually organized under a king like the people of the Golden Plains claimed? Or were they all just wandering around the forest?

Questions for someone else, she shrugged. Beth made a wide circle around the hill and rejoined the river on the far side.

If they’re just following this thing the I can do the same, she reasoned. No need to watch them taking the next hour or three to butcher that thing..