The elves did not give them any songs, travel goods, or outlandish gifts to help them in their journey. Instead, they quickly escorted them to the boundary and sent them on their way all the while trying to block their vision of the pits of the shoveling equipment.
"Well, they were very welcoming." Tigrislcawu mentioned as they headed down the path.
"Extremely." Beranhond said in agreement.
The three of them traveled up the path for a day, stopping only for a light meal break, before they came to a part of the woods where the technicolor storm had caused lasting damage. The vegetation along the path was covered in numerous pastel hues, almost as if the hails had melted and covered the trees and foliage in dyes.
Tigrisclawu scampered underneath a bush in search of a rat - when he emerged a moment later he too was painted in a dozen pastel hues.
"Don't... say... anything." He hissed.
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