An Obscure Paradise
With every step into the caves, the elf grew quieter. His eyes, used to tracing the light of dewdrops caught on gossamer, delved deep into soothing shadows. His ears, accustomed to the warble of woodland birds, became attuned to the echo of crystal-clear water dropping to shape shimmering stalagmites. His heart, normally speeding up at racing the wind over wide plains, began to beat heavily at columns of green beryl aglow in the flickering light of Gimli’s torch.
“You were right,” he said at the closing of the day, his voice filled with astonishment. “This is indeed an obscure paradise.”