"I've always been curious," Lindarion said, voice even. "Why do so many of you hate elves?"
The man's eyebrows lifted, like he hadn't expected an answer. Which, fair. Most elves didn't ask. Most humans didn't explain.
"You really want to know?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."
The man crossed his arms. "You're not like us."
"Not the strongest argument. Neither is a bear."
"Some of your kind act better. Smarter. Always keeping to your trees and towers. Think that makes you special."
Lindarion tilted his head. "So it's a vibes thing."
"It's a power thing. You live longer. You've got magic in your blood. But when war breaks out, who bleeds more?"
Lindarion didn't answer right away. Mostly because Ashwing had decided to chew on a bootlace and he was trying not to trip.
The man kept going. "Humans build. Elves hide. We claw our way out of dirt. You get kingdoms handed down through bloodlines like heirlooms."
There it was.
Not hate.
