A Shadow Among Crumbs

Starry darts beneath the shadow of a heavy elven chair, breath coming in quick pants, clutching a crumb twice their size. Overhead, the vibration of elven footsteps rattles the splintered floorboards, shaking dust loose into the sliver of light that marks Starry’s world. The air thrums with distant laughter as the elven roommates move about, oblivious to the tiny life weaving through their home. Starry edges along the uneven groove, mind fixed on the crawlspace behind the kitchen hearth, last night, a crust of bread was left there, promising another meal if no one else found it first. From the hallway, a clatter echoes, something large dropped by careless hands. Starry freezes, body pressed flat against the wood grain, heart pounding as a pale shadow sweeps past the gap in the baseboard. The scent of spiced honey wafts down, mingling with the ever-present damp. Every instinct screams to move, but lingering could mean discovery. Somewhere above, a chair scrapes. The world shifts, unheeding and immense.

Starry presses against the cool, polished wood of the chair leg, limbs coiled tight. Above, the floorboards creak beneath the weight of giants, sending steady tremors through the room. Nearby, a stray rug fiber offers a thin veil of cover as the shadow of a boot creeps close, then slides away.

Starry slips from the shadows, voice sharp and clear:

"Over here master."

The tiny sound slices through the room’s low murmur. Thalor, caught mid-step toward the kitchen, halts immediately. His head tilts, eyes narrowing as he scans the splintered wood at his feet, seeking the source of the faint, impossible voice.

Thalor’s shadow stretches across the floor, a dark sweep that swallows the faint light. He stands still, his sharp aquamarine eyes locked on the cracks between the oak planks with a cold, focused intensity. The air tightens, growing thin and heavy as the giant leans closer. The scent of his herbal tea sharpens, thick and cloying.