Language of the Elves

Deep within the large Elvish forest of Nessal Oud Fallen assumed the training of the EreEleden; WereChildren. They taught him many things of the WereChildren and were now teaching him how to speak the way of the Elves, which slightly aggravated him. Getting slightly sweaty from the sun he took off his fur lined jacket with the hood and hung it from a branch of the large red bark tree that stood every few feet of each other except for this area in which makeshift homes were built as refugee for any creatures of the shift. His undershirt was a basic tunic with short sleeves and a v shaped opening that zigzagged before closing and continuing down as a strait line. Leather threds held the piece closed and were tied in the center. Under the tunic was a long sleeved shirt made of white silk which was very light and didn't capture the heat like his coat did. Now he sat in the grass as his mentor Flussoun; Mud-dog, placed several scrolls and books before him. "Some of these are translated so that a person of your origin may learn to speak as the Elves.

"Do I have to learn this language? Why can't everyone just speak mine?" Asked Fallen, irritated as his searched through the pile of parchment and other documents.

"Because you need to learn these things. The Elves are important and to communicate more with them you need to learn this. Now read!" He pointed at the books as he spoke and watched as Fallen reluctantly picked up a book. Then Flussoun smiled, "Okay...now reply in their language...What is your name?"

His face seemed contorted as he puzzed at the ways of pronouncing and then repeated the words on the parchment, "Enna.. ollani... os Fallen?" He glared at the words and slowly looked up at his mentor who nodded in approval.