A lone elf

You stumble across the elf almost by accident, when you crest a snow covered hill and spot him down slope from you, striding through a gap in the hills.

He's the prettiest creature you've seen in a long time. Cherry gold curls frame a delicate face, with creamy skin, high cheekbones, and a plump, delicious looking mouth. He seems clad all in clinging green silk despite the cold, tough he does wear a heavy fur lined green cloak, covered in golden embroidery of sprawling vines, leaves, and flowers. He has yet to spot you as he's striding forward towards something: a downed sparrow you realized, with a twisted wing.

You watch mesmerized as the elf kneels down to the sparrow and cups it gently in his hands. Soft golden light seems to envelope the small creature and when it fades, the sparrow's wing is straight again. It flaps it experimentally a few times, in a kind of awe, then takes flight. Not just any elf then, a healer. That could be quite useful.

You see the elf straighten and right his cloak, and realize you must decided what to do. You could rush the elf now, try and overcome him before he can react, or stalk him like a deer and wait for an opening. Yet, healing might not be his only magic and the Elves, the High Elves especially, are famous for their arrogance and power: it might be wiser to seek easier prey, though the thought of bending one of the mighty High Elves to your will makes a little bit of precum dribble from your cockhead onto the snow.