Give me back my clothes

"Good day little one!" said the old mountain elf, looking over his shoulder to a small, shaking and angry little drow. "Nothing more refereshing that a summer snowfall, eh?"

The girl said something to him in a demanding tone in that incomprensible language that was for Corvin her drow dialect.

"You should put the clothes I leave by the skins you were using to sleep. And go back to your bed, you were sick and I don't want you to relapse" he said pointing the sleeping bag "You shouldn't be walking around in a towel!"

The girl didn't understood him, either, shaking in the towel. She asked to him something again: As he didn't seemed to understand, she pointed the light short dress she was wearing when Corvin found her, which he was cutting and mending.

"What?" he asked. The girl tried to take from his hands the light dress "wow! wow! wow!" said Corvin "I'm sorry little lady, but I can't give you it!"

the drow complained, still trying to reach the dress, but the mountain elf keep her away. "I'm sorry, but I can't give it to you! This dress isn't useful for the mountains of Nohalion, and unless you put the clothes I leaved by the sleeping bag, and I make something to cover your feet from the cold, you are soon going to turn into a blue elf due hipotermia, if you know what I mean" he pointed again to the sleeping bag, as well his spare clothes that he hoped the drow girl to use.

She tried to take from his hands again the dress. speaking in her language, but the mountain Hebonnor elf was to big, so finally she sighed.

"Noo. No, no, no. I need this to do some bandages for your feet for the cold and these wounds. Anyway, if you use this you will freeze, anyway. You need to put something warmer" he ripped the dress in two:

The little drow girl gasped

"See?"

She began to cry then.

"Awww, come on" really, he have lost in the last centuries his touch with kids, be his grandkids, grandgrandkids, grandgrandgrandkids and the generations to follow...

After he found the drow girl lost in the forest, the storm continued, so he looked for some dense woods to pass the storm: but the next day at dawn, his little drow was burning in fever:

He didn't know if it was the trap, that infected the wound, or a poison in it or anything, but he was forced to camp to take care of the girl, who debated for the next days between live and death, consumed by feverished dreams...

So he was really glad she survived: He wouldn't need to use the grave he digged in what he thought was a beautiful passage of the Mountains...
he have needed to dig way more graves in his live that he wanted, for wives, sons, daughters, friends, grandsons and family, comrades and more...
but now, he need clothes for the girl:

In the mountains, inadecuate clothes or some hole in them can be letal, so he began to work with threads and needles for the little drow... so he really wasn't even sure why the drowling was crying now...

And now, since it was clear his drow will survive, he need to think what to do with her.