Ulydorah skipped all the way to elf kindergarten. She lived in a moving tree by the whispering river down from the tall mushroom, which housed her classroom. Ulydorah hummed a melody of serene beauty, and the wild flowers burst open in fuschia and crimson. The music so moved her that she pulled out her magical flute and began to play an enchanted melody, a clean, happy, benign tune that shook leaves from the excited trees.
As she approached the mushroom school, she came face-to-face with her arch nemesis, Ograten. Ograten was a night elf, with long, black, shiny hair. She wrote angsty elf poetry about vampire wings and sprite punk rock.
By the time they got to kindergarten, elves could already write. Now they began to learn about tree magic and water lore. Ograten looked at Ulydorah and smiled her sharp, white teeth, cursing her while holding her dilapidated rag doll of death, which had pale gray skin, ratty hair, and large doe eyes of destruction.
“Ograten, you’re an albino with a charred heart,” Ulydorah said.
Ograten flinched. It was so on.