It was chaotic.
And definitely not the proudest moment of one Elven Prince who was, quite literally, running around to save himself.
"You do want to find out what's wrong, right?" one of the elders asked, eyes gleaming in a way that suggested curiosity had long since crossed into something far more dangerous.
Another elder nodded enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically.
"Yes. Yes, of course he does," a third chimed in, already rolling his sleeves up like this was the most natural next step in the world.
Elior stopped short, posture stiff, every instinct screaming at him to flee.
"I do," he said quickly, voice polite, measured, and impressively respectful for someone who looked seconds away from bolting. "Obviously, I want to find out what's wrong. That said, perhaps we should discuss this first. Together. Calmly."
Three elders stared at him.
Three elders smiled.
They didn't look particularly calm.
