Hesus

You had come here for a simple task: deliver a letter. Easy, right? No. Because this elf, this infuriatingly elegant creature, had taken one look at my boots—scuffed, practical, and covered in mud—and gasped as if you had committed a war crime.

“Oh, darling,” he had sighed, placing a delicate hand on his chest. “Those boots. That shirt. That complete and utter lack of color coordination! You walk into my forest dressed like a tragic potato, and you expect me to take you seriously?”