It was a Saturday morning, rain dripping down from the roof. Ava sat perched on the couch. Bronte, he was calmer this morning….until a shout came from the kitchen “Bronte?” Ava called out. “It’s nothing!” He growled. She got off the couch, a wave of dizziness hitting her. She was dizzy a lot lately. She walked to the kitchen to find Bronte, his arm cut, bleeding. “Bronte! What happened?” She demanded. “I dropped my coffee mug. I’m ok…I will be.” Ava marched over and wrapped it up. “Bronte tell me next time!” Bronte nods quickly, it definitely wasn’t smart to argue with an angry Pryen who was also your wife. Suddenly there was a soft tapping at the door. When Ava open….there was a tall man, with a frail white face and brown hair…but his eyes? No. They where red. Not the typical elven blue. “Hello, Ava Pyren.” The man said before falling forward.
