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Stupid Elf
Part 1 of 1
Synopsis:  Two-hundred nineteen words describing an unexpected lapse into unconsciousness.

Stupid Elf

    "Drizzt," Catti-brie called from the door to her room.  "I've somethin' to tell ye."

    The dark elven ranger looked up from the map he'd been studying of Mithril Hall's Undercity with a smile.  When his eyes met those of the woman he loved, his expression faltered, uncertain. "What is it?"

    "Come here," she said urgently, a strange look on her face.  She was smiling—wasn't she?—but there was something else to it.

    "Stupid elf," grumbled Bruenor.  He, Regis, Thibbledorf Pwent, Wulfgar, and Innovindil broke off their own conversation to watch Drizzt walk past.

    "I'm hopin' she'll grow a beard," grinned Pwent, a comment which was not uncharacteristic for him.

    "At least he won't be adopted," Wulfgar said, which confused the drow. He started to turn, but the insistence of Catti-brie's tapping foot kept him moving.

    "She'll be striped, though," mused Innovindil.  "Nice, wide stripes."

    "I once saw a black-and-white striped horse at a carnival in Calimport," Regis chimed in.  "That'll be cute on him."

    "Damned elven pointy-ears," Bruenor snorted.

    "Red hair," said Innovindil.

    "And a beard!" crowed Pwent.

    "Lavender eyes," Wulfgar added.

    "Black-and-white stripes," Regis finished.

    They glanced down the hall at Catti-brie and the now-unconscious Drizzt, and Bruenor snorted.  "Stupid elf.  He can face dragons an' demons... but faints dead away soon as me girl tells him he's to be a daddy!"

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