“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 pale, round, 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 rustled in the foliage around 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.

What the... was that a duck? Looked like a duck. Sounded like a duck... Even tasted like a duck. Aaaannnnnd... Smelled like one too. Sooo, it must be a... guy with a really big pouch of neck fat? Did I just lick some guy's neck rolls? Thal thought. EEWWWWW! EW EW EW EW! My god that is gross! Thal spit on the ground repeatedly, coughing in between lugis. The entire situation was made worse by the fact that neck fat man had decided to turn around and stare at him, most likely wondering why he just had his neck rolls sniffed and licked. The man was huge, at about 6'4" 5 billion-and-a-half pounds. He looked like a boulder with arms, legs, and more jelly rolls than a bakery. The Elf wondered why he would walk if he was that shape. Thal thought that it would just be so much easier to roll around.

Lost in thought, Thal did not realize that the man had raised a pudgy, frying pan-sized hand, ready to fat-slap the crap out of the Elf. Thal realized this just in time, and dove on the ground as a five fingered fat sack sailed over his head. The Elf quickly rolled to his feet, staring wide-eyed at the giant blubber bubble staring down at him.

"Ummm... I thought you had a duck on your neck?" Thal explained nervously. "I mean, if you squint your eyes and look at it sideways... No? Well, that's what I thought..."

By now there was a large crowd gathering around the two. Thal looked around with pleading eyes.

"Right everybody?" he asked as a last ditch effort. "Doesn't his neck look like a duck?" The crowd instantly dispersed. Thal cursed under his breath as the man glared at him, fire in his eyes. Wordlessly, the man began to waddle menacingly at Thal. At least it would have been menacing if it didn't look so darn funny. The Elf turned and ran, laughing hysterically as he sprinted away.

The Elf ran into a forest, crashing through the branches and bushes which tore at his clothing and skin, imprinting small gashes upon the Elf's skin. Finally, he broke out of the trees and ran into a small clearing which ended in a waterfall. Thal ran and dropped to the ground, sliding across the dirt and grass. He grabbed the edge of the ledge, right next to the cascading water. The fat man continued over the edge of the waterful, unable to grab onto the edge of the cliff. A second or two later, there was an enormous splash and a geyser of water shot up into the air as the fat man's enormous mass displaced an equally enormous amount of water.

The Elf pluled himself back up onto flat ground, and lay back, breathing hard, staring at the sky. After a few seconds, he sat up and turned around, noticing a pale Elf at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling down over the side.

Thal looked at the Elf. He looked to be fairly good natured, but one should never judge a book by its movie... or something like that.

"Hey," Thal said. "Any chance you didn't see that fat guy tumble over the edge of the cliff? I really don't want to be implicated in any deaths. I don't need another angry, pitchfork-and-torch wielding crowd chasing me."

The gentle stirring was only a strange premonition of the event to come, and Pierek found himself standing, waiting frustrated, for nothing. Rapidly, then, a larger, scuffed-up elf sprinted out of the trees, ripping leaves and foliage free from their anchoring with his pure momentum, and following him was a colossal man, who jiggled as he hasted, his comical expression was that of a four-year-old child who had been told he couldn't have the toy he wanted.

The incredible spontaneity entertained Pierek, and even as both beings slid over the cliff and seemed to fall he was still laughing hard, cackling from his gut and folded over in half. Their horrified mental effusion did not dull the hysterics. Pierek's laugh was full, and bountiful, ringing a chord after being bounced off the cliff opposite, drowning out the dull splash of flesh and water meeting.

When the elf passed over the cliff again, and alerted the spirit that the fat man had not been caught, Pierek reassured him, "Ay can still 'ear his thoughts; he leevs," The scrawny elf grinned from ear to ear even as he said this, "The rivermen will find him a mile along, for that 'un'll float." It was true, Pierek could sense the obese commoner's frenzied thoughts, as well as the disturbed elf's worries faintly vibrating. " . . . end who maght you beh?" White noise of a waterfall dominated the pauses between his words and sentences, and even as he talked one could see the ends of his hair traveling as his light hair grew quickly, and attentive company would notice that as an oversight is keeping form, his red tongue was forked and long.

(Sorry. I really shouldn't write at school. Im done now, though.)

((Sorry i missed this before))

Thal breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't be impicated in yet another harmless accidental manslaughter. It really wasn't his fault that the guy had tumbled over the cliff. It was the fat man's fault for being so fat. The massive amounts of blubber had brought out Thal's curiosity, and there was nothing he could do about that.

"I'm Thalanis, but most call me Thal. They find saying 'Thalanis' to be far too troublesome," Thal replied. He looked the strange Elf up and down. "And yourself?"

((Aaaannnnd crap post... sorry.))

"Ay em Pierek." he told Thal through a stifled smile, "and eef Ay may, Ay theenk I prefer Thalanis." The wiry Quendi was now visibly more relaxed, shoulders fallen lower and breath having been caught, which in turn calmed Pierek so that he ceased his foolish giggling.

Noticing his companion’s eyes judging him, Pierek self-consciously repaired his serpentine tongue and in a brisk shake of his head he disrupted his straight hair and released a liquid sunlight, to fall from roots to tips, flushing his whole blonde mane in a golden hue. Truly, he a gorgeous spectacle, but he was unnatural, for his gaze was long (before he remembered to blink,) his breaths were few and far between, and his eyes subtly changed hues every few seconds. Most companions of his did not specifically notice these abnormalities, usually only capable of discerning that this was no real elf, or maybe even real Ardian.

After pausing to consider this new person also, Pierek asked the polite question: " . . . and how does Thalanis hail?" The elf-doppelganger adjusted his stance and posture on that rocky cliff into one more fit for entertaining company: with his shoulders tipped back and pronouncing his chest, and his soft jaw not pointed vainly in the air only sitting horizontal and even with his acquaintance’s, and his feet place comfortably one in front of the other. All this he had been taught during his short employment as a playful but respectful jester in one long-ago king's court.