Desert Elf in the Mountains - Cascadia Anon

Ok then; the orc hunter anon reminded me of one.
Despite being in the PNW, Desert Elves are a not uncommon sight here as well
>East of the Cascade mountains, you have the Columbia river plateau
>This area, while not fully a traditional desert, is still basically a desert
>plains, steppe, and some actual desert
>Elves who had the misfortune of being merged there became very much like the ones anon orc hunter is talking about
>However, people actually live out on the plateau, and there are plenty of roads through it
>So desert elves tend to wander out of the plateau from time to time
>sometimes these are guys sick of orc hunting and drinking themselves to death
>sometimes they're elves who have realized "hey, there our forests elsewhere, maybe I should just move there"
>alot of the time though it's just some desert elf who got really drunk (by THEIR standards) and was so shitfaced they wander into the mountains
This is one of those times.
>on my mountain patrol
>orc driving, well call him HMG-bro
>Good kind of orc, the local tribe is one of the civilized ones
>doesn't acutually have an HMG but he really wants one
>On the truck's MG is a wood elf will call Fudd
>I call him that because his family are more Fudds than Hippies when it comes to caring for the forest
>we're driving along, having a nice conversation
>we turn a bend
>A fucking emaciated elf is in our way
>HMG-Bro fucking yells, slams breaks
>I get out a "WHAT THE FUCK" before the seat belt yanks me back
>Fudd is cursing heavily as he slams into the back of the cab
>The elf is standing there, shaking, with a intense expression on his face
>not the scared shaking of someone having a significant emotional event
>twitchy shaking, like someone does when they're eager to draw
>He has a really deep tan, is wearing a wide brim hat with a flannel shirt and jeans
>At least I think they were jeans, he was also wearing leather chaps
>we sit in a staredown for a good minute, the only sounds being the idling of the truck and the singing of some birds
cont.
----------
>Suddenly this guy materializes a 30-30 out of fucking nowhere
>screams in a mix of English and Elvish
>"A FUCKING GREENSKIN!"
>Some elvish gibbering
>"-TIME FER ME NEX DRINK!"
>Nut-job elf starts to aim
>HMG-bro and I are scrambling to draw when we hear a muffled bang
>the 30-30 flies out of the nut job's hands
>He doesn't jump or anything, just looks up to see Fudd
>like he hadn't seen him before
>an argument in elvish ensues, all I can tell is that it involves HMG-bro
>Fudd is getting more frustrated sounding
>"Fine then I have a bottle here."
>Jumps out of the truck, walking to nutjob with what is obviously an empty bottle
>Nutjob still reaches for it
>In a swift motion Fudd breaks it over the top of the nutjob's head
>nut job collapses
>Fudd turns towards us
>"Get the rope, before he wakes up."
>whatthefuck.avi
>Bind him, put him in the truck
>Fudd tells us to drive to his clan's place
>HMG-bro jokes about having turned a mugging into a kidnapping
>Could tell he was a little shaken up by the event; he didn't ever want to go patrol the east roads after that
cont.
----------
>Get to the Fudd family estate
>It's a big forested property with some log cabins and tree houses
>the tree houses are really luxury tree blinds for hunting
>get to grandpa Fudd's place
>grandpa Fudd's on the porch with grandma Fudd
>Grandpa Fudd has a DB shottie on his lap
>Grandma Fudd is more traditional, has a bow instead
>Fudd starts yelling over at them
>bunch of fudd come running from all over
>a minute later I see a horde of camo, Model 700s, bows and crossbows carry the nut-job elf into grandpa's cabin
>whatthefudd.many
>grandma fudd gets up and walks in
>grandpa fudd and fudd talk for a bit, then he tells us we can go back to patroling
>"Ok then"
>go finish the days work, nothing else unusual
>We ask Fudd about it the next day
>"don't worry about it, he's being taken care of by his kin"
>don't really get any answers about it until a couple weeks later
>Be eating brunch before work in the town diner
>Damn good cherry pie
>Fudd walks up with someone
>"Hey guys, look who it is"
>look up, HMG-bro a little stunned
>It's the Nut-job elf, now in fudd-clothing
>still has the hat
>He and Fudd sit down with us and he starts apologizing to HMG-bro
>Basically, the desert elf got super shitfaced and, with several days worth of whiskey in tow, got lost in the mountains
>After he ran out of whiskey, he went through heavy withdrawal
>was wondering around the cascades getting even more lost while in a fever
>The fudd family of elves basically got him through his withdrawal and told him where he was
>He was going to go back to the desert
>but wanted to apologize to HMG-bro about mistaking him for a dirty feral first

Still more stories, maybe I'll tell the retarded wendigo one next.