"So... what's it like, being an elf?"
The wizard looked at her companion with a single raised eyebrow. "I wouldn't know. I'm not an elf."
Her companion's tail lashed back and forth. "What do you mean you're not an elf, Saehlin?"
Saehlin shrugged at the dragonborn. "I mean I'm not an elf. What do you want from me?"
"But you've got the long, pointy ears!"
"Lots of people have pointy ears, Tyrla."
"You're tall and willowy,"
"Sure."
"Long-lived,"
"Going to be 163 in two months."
"Have a whole thing with plants and trees,"
"My magic does have a certain botanical bent to it, certainly."
"And you're frustratingly vague!"
Saehlin grinned. "That may have more to do with being a wizard than any accident of my birth, dear."
Tyria stomped her foot and let out a small spark of flame. "Saehlin, I've met your family! They live in a treehouse, with a bunch of other elves! HOW are you not an elf?!"
Saehlin sighed. "It's somewhat embarrassing, to be truthful, but... approximately twelve hundred years ago, there was a big conflict about moving out of the homelands. Those who stayed were such conservative sticks-in-the-mud that they declared that only those who stayed faithful to the old lands could truly be called 'elves'."
Tyria blinked. "Wait, for real?" She frowned. "Then, what, are you technically a human?"
"Don't be absurd," said Saehlin, attempting to hide a grin. "The ears alone make that impossible. No, the pointy ears, the green thumb, the height..."
Tyria looked wary.
"...clearly, as you can see, I'm a kind of orc."
