“Ah my!” blurted Pierek, satisfied with life. He was alone, up on a cliff next to the falls, his legs dangling off the smooth stone. Behind him leaves rustled, birds chirruped, and very far off travelers marched along the forest trail. The amiable spirit contentedly watched the violent water gush over the stony cliff in front of him, and fall loudly fifteen feet to the deep, chaotic pool below. He wondered at this immense amount of water that was cast off that ledge every moment, and marveled at it’s massive necessity and awesome perpetuity. “The Immortal River,” he fancied it.

Alone-ness was amazing for Pierek, being a soul that wants for so much interaction. For once, he was alone, but not lonely. Just blissful and uncaring. “I am alone!” He stated out loud, just for the sake of hearing his own voice, and relishing in the pure fun of it. The words ricocheted off the opposite cliffside, and echoed back to Pierek. He sat and wallowed in happiness for a while, humming a jovial tune to himself.

Having eventually grown bored, he stood up on achy legs and stretched his muscles in the warm sun that glowed down past the surrounding trees. He walked around to loosen his legs, and then settled again, and began casting heavy rocks over the cliff, and watching them splash below. He had to listen closely to hear the enjoyable crash as the stones collided with the pool.

Something bustled behind him, and Pierek froze. Not fearfully, only so he might listen closer. When the rustling of leaves stopped, Pierek spoke, without turning from the boisterous falls, “Hello? Who’s there?”

He checked his form, recognizing himself as a pale, slight elf, naked and unequipped. He morphed, shortening his fair hair from it’s long wild mane to a manageable shock standing straight on his head, and spreading his just nascent cloak about him. He continued to sit, stock-still, waiting for a reply of some kind.