"Chat With the Cat Chiefs"

Log Date:
	6/3/2004

Log Cast:
	Ynderra, Rahna, Kaer

Log Intro:
	Ynderra of Lostholt is on a quest.
	For many seasons now, the magic-user of Lostholt has been journeying 
across the land in search of lost loved ones: her twin sister Myriel, vanished a 
long time ago out of the Holt due to the grief of losing her daughter Trouble, 
and her own long-lost lifemate Kai. Derra has not laid eyes on her Recognized 
lifemate since he himself left Lostholt many seasons ago on his OWN quest, to 
find his mother Jeela--and she has been kicking herself ever since for not going 
with him.
	And now, Ynderra is finally trying to do something about it. The presence 
of the Cat Elf Mathryn at Lostholt has given her the idea to head down to the 
jungles, which present themselves as the best possible location to find a Cat 
Elf and her half-Wolfrider son. But she had not reckoned on exactly how long it 
takes to walk from Lostholt to the territory of the Cat Elves, especially when 
one is without a wolf-friend. Exhausted, bedraggled by being caught in an 
evening storm, Ynderra has been met by the hunter Akira and escorted into the 
Cat Elves' encampment--and has already learned that those she seeks are not in 
the tribe's company.
	But the leaders of the Cat Elf tribe, their attention caught by the 
arrival of a stranger, are about to come and check her out--and little does 
Ynderra know exactly how interesting having a healer on hand is to Rahna, the 
Cat Elves' chief-second....

------

Jungle - Cat Elf Encampment(#457RJ$)
     Dim and dusky, the Cat Elf encampment seems to live in eternal twilight, as 
the jungle canopy far overhead defies the sun, denies it access. Breezes which 
ripple those lofty branches cannot penetrate deeply enough to touch the ground, 
but merely shift the pattern of leaves to let sunlight, or moonlight, filter 
through in rare, spotty dapples, like the ghostly rosettes on a black panther's 
hide. A widened clearing, the Encampment is bordered to the north and east by a 
relatively thin buffer of trees, beyond which lies the great river, making an 
almost ninety degree bend to the south. Lazy yet, it seems to pick up speed as 
it moves toward the waterfall. The ground in the camp is patterned with tiny 
footprints and large cat tracks. Thin paths lead to the tentflaps of those who 
have chosen to add their tent to the dotting of dwellings that mark the 
perimeter, though these by no means represent the majority of the more far-flung 
tribe.
      The light of day sifts down through the sheltering canopy, lighting the 
grounds beneath with a gentle glow.
Contents:
Ynderra
Brightly burning fire
Obvious Exits:
Pathway Out <O>  Tribal Tent <TT>  Great Tree <GT>

Ynderra

This elfin maiden is of no particularly remarkable height; indeed, even by elfin 
standards she is almost short, and with a slim and lithely curved build to 
match. Her hair is curly and raven-black, mostly loose in a riotous mass that 
hangs to her shoulders, save for a tiny portion pulled back into a braid behind 
her head to keep it out of her eyes. High cheekbones give her features a 
delicately sculpted look and a lupine slant to her smoky, dark blue eyes; an 
ever so slight scattering of freckles across her otherwise pale cheeks suggests 
that, for all that she has the moon-pale look of a Wolfrider, she's been 
traveling underneath the Daystar as of late. When she speaks, it's in a high, 
clear soprano, and the maiden seems to favor speech over sending.
She's lightly clad for traveling during the Newgreen season, sporting travel-
worn breeches of a dark slate gray and laced in blue, a soft blue halter that 
might once have been a larger garment but which now leaves her arms and midriff 
bare and sports only the stitched head of a wolf for decoration, and old, 
journey-stained calf-height light grey boots. Around her neck she wears a 
pendant in the shape of a trio of leaves upon a leather cord, with which she 
frequently fidgets when she's nervous--and that seems to happen a lot.

Kaer

  Placid gray eyes peer thoughtfully out upon the world through a long mane of 
sandy-brown hair tied back with a strip of leather. A single gold earring 
twinkles in his left ear and a few thin braids hang down to rest on his 
shoulders, tied with dried plant fibers. Brown with the glow of the southern 
sun, this tall lithe elf wears only a thin leather vest and loincloth along with 
soft hide leggings strung up the sides with tight leather strips and soft desert 
boots. There's a large tooth hanging around his neck.
  His claws, glittering with brightmetal edges, are loosely strapped to his left 
side along his thigh with leather laces. A small bone knife hangs behind it in a 
small green sheath and a tightly looped lariat is on his right side. Relaxed and 
confident, his motion is as graceful as a large cat... there is no hesitation in 
his eyes. There is quiet maturity in his bearing, a touch of leadership and 
natural dominance.

Rahna

     Exotic slashes of emerald glint from their setting in a fine-boned golden 
face as this sleek Cat Elf takes in her surroundings. A sweep of glossy auburn 
brushes her shoulders as the silken hair glides over them, cut to a length just 
inches past. Rahna's movements are smooth and graceful, and most of all 
deliberate, every fraction of movement executed with cool purpose. In the deep, 
hot shade of her jungle home she has captured enough sunlight to reflect the 
warmth back in the flawless gold of her velvety skin, a treasure wrapped about 
her shapely form with its lean, firm muscling. 
     The lightest, petal-soft leathers of pale, buttery tan grace this huntress' 
figure, accented in a strip of green where the leggings ride on her hips to dip 
well below her navel. Both the leggings and snug, halter-style top have been 
painstakingly beaded in exquisite swirling patterns, traceries of dotted green 
filigree about the neckline, and the outsides of her thighs, trailing into a 
single line down the outer seam of each calf to a triple band of beading at the 
ankles. Her 'Claws ride ever-present her hip when not in use, and a small dagger 
is kept accessible. A twist of golden metal twines itself about her right arm 
several fingerwidths below the shoulder, a gleaming torque lapping her upper arm 
three times with a simple, stylish curl at either end. Elegant and refined, 
Rahna's carriage is self-assured, her gaze ever so slightly haughty.

There is an unfortunate consequence of traveling with only oneself for company 
for two turns of the seasons--developing a habit of talking to yourself. With 
the hunter Akira having left her to take what rest she can at the camp's 
visitor's den, promising to inform the chiefs of her presence, Ynderra of 
Lostholt is at loose ends. She's double-checked her meager possessions. She's 
pulled off her travel-worn boots and done her best to soothe her aching feet 
with her healing power. Reluctant to settle too quickly into an unfamiliar tree, 
the maiden's got one bare foot cradled in her dainty palms, and is bathing it 
again in a green-golden glow... and muttering to herself, blue eyes tearing up a 
bit as she struggles not to break into weeping from sheer frustration.

"Puckernuts. Just great. Of _course_ he isn't here and neither is his mother and 
why would they know where Myr is anyway? How many Wolfriders make it down here? 
The trees are different and all the smells are different and I haven't seen a 
wolf in _moons_--"

Rahna turns the bend in the pathway and steps into the clearing, making no 
effort toward secrecy. A habit of silent footfalls does not lend itself to 
heralding one's approach however, so rather than startle the expected stranger 
with an abrupt appearance, Rahna calls out in a low, silky tone, "Greetings."

Following in his lifemate's wake, the Cat Elf chieftain pauses as Rahna calls 
out to someone ahead, gray eyes peering curiously at the visitor. ** Well well, 
** he sends openly, a slow smile breaking out over his face ** I had heard that 
the sentries had passed a visitor through to the Encampment. Greetings, cousin. 
**

Not even a Wolfrider's hearing can register truly silent footfalls. A 
Wolfrider's nose might tell her of approaching strangers--but then again, 
Ynderra is not precisely renowned back home for acuity of senses, or for paying 
attention to what senses she has. She doesn't mark the approach of the newcomers 
until the sent and spoken hails reach her; then she freezes where she sits in 
that ungainly position of holding her own foot. The gleam around her hands dies 
out as she swallows hard. Uh oh. These must be the chiefs, right? They're more 
sinuous of movement than a Wolfrider would be--but they've got that look of 
alphas about them, and Ynderra knows the alphas of a pack when she sees them. 
She gulps, swallows, and leaps to her feet, scooping up her bedraggled boots as 
she goes. "Um... shade..." she blurts. _High Ones, I don't even know if they 
have special greeting words..._ "Hi?"

Emerald slivers blink once, twice, as Rahna notices the glow, even if only in 
its last fading moment. The coolness of her greeting, reflected in her bearing, 
are interrupted by the single-mindedness of her focus on that glow - but only 
for a heartbeat. A certain solicitousness, colored with polite caution, takes 
its place. "You must have come a long way," the huntress remarks. "I hope Akira 
made you comfortable in our visitors tent. What brings you to our home?" Long, 
smooth syllables reflect a degree of patience.

Folded arms, Kaer seems content to let his lifemate speak to the visitor. Here 
in the Forevergreen, the heart of Cat Elves' territory, the chieftain allows 
himself to relax in the security of the tribal Encampment, knowing that 
sentries, trackers, and hunters are moving in and out of the jungles at all 
times of day or night. If the visitor were dangerous, the sentries would not 
have allowed her to get very close to the camp... and Akira would not have 
guided her. Still, curiosity supercedes casual regard as Kaer leans in to hear 
Ynderra's answer.

Okay, cloud-head, at least _try_ to remember to talk like someone with something 
more than air between her ears? Ynderra nibbles her lip for a moment, dark brows 
winging down in self-directed annoyance--another habit she's picked up over the 
last couple turns of the seasons. Trying to stand up a little straighter when 
faced by not one but _both_ chieftains at once, and trying very hard not to 
think about her bedraggled leathers, the Wolfrider pipes, "Aye, I'm from 
Lostholt--um. My name's Ynderra. Akira brought me into the camp, I hope that's 
okay..." Confidence falters under two cool regards, and the smile she tries to 
muster slips with it. "I-I... um." Her voice grows softer, her eyes bleak. "I 
was looking for my lifemate or his mother, but Akira already told me they aren't 
here..."

There is something pensive about Rahna's 'interrogation,' as tilted eyes flicker 
periodically toward the wolfgirl's hands, or her foot, returning to Ynderra's 
face each time so swiftly that the departures could almost be merely imagined. 
Almost. "Well, that is most unfortunate. It is a long trip to reach us, and a 
wearying one. You will want to catch your rest for a while before attempting the 
journey out. Naturally we will offer you an escort as far as our borders, when 
you feel recovered and ready to depart." Flick-return. "You'll be welcome here 
in the meantime. Are you lacking anything? Food?"

Kaer's smile widens as Ynderra introduces herself ** Lostholt, hmm? Well, you 
are welcome, cousin. A long journey, indeed. ** The chieftain's mood lightens 
further as he steps around his lifemate to examine Ynderra carefully. ** Yes... 
you do look similar to what I can recall of the Lostholt. Looking for your 
lifemate, hmm? What is his name? ** Apparently, he doesn't choose to address 
Rahna's quick offer of an escort out of the jungles.

"Kai," is Ynderra's tiny reply, delivered in a stoic little syllable somewhat at 
odds with her pert features. "Son of Jeela, and Crystal of Willowholt--um. At 
least, when there still was a Willowholt!" Then she seems to catch herself and 
blink twice at Kaer. "Oh--right. Rillwhisper told me to say hello to the cat 
chief if I made it down here--you _are_ Kaer, right?" _Cloud-head!_ To Rahna, 
she humbly adds, "I'm a little hungry, I-I didn't want to hunt in these trees 
without leave and to be honest I am not exactly sure what to hunt for--but I-I-
I'll trade for food. I can shape, and, um, heal." That last word comes out tiny 
as well, as she gives a negligent little wave down to her feet. Neither her 
hands nor her feet have a single scratch on them; indeed, she might be seen to 
be in significantly better physical condition than the leathers she's wearing. 
Aside from being visibly tired.

Rahna inclines her head as she listens to the exchange between her beloved and 
the newcomer. As the curly-haired maiden addresses her once more, she nods in 
agreement. Her eyes narrow slightly in a thoughtful way, but even lowering the 
lids cannot disguise the gleam that has kindled there. The corners of her mouth 
twitch and relax, very slightly - one can almost hear the wheels spinning in her 
head. There is no deceit or slyness in her low, honey voice when she speaks. "I 
wouldn't hear of it. I wouldn't have it be said we made a tired traveler barter 
for a meal. Let us take care of you while you restore yourself. Such travel 
takes much out of one, especially alone. Stay as long as you wish, it is our 
pleasure to have you. I'll see that food and fresh water are brought to you."

Kaer nods in agreement with Rahna, gesturing to the jungles surrounding them and 
using his voice for the first time, "Yes, welcome. Here in the Forevergreen, you 
are our guest and we shall hunt for you."

That the question somewhere in the midst of her blurted words has not elicited a 
reply doesn't seem to make much of an impact on Ynderra; perhaps the she-elf's 
accustomed to babbling without being paid much heed? But she claps her mouth 
shut with a visible effort as Rahna speaks, her carriage speaking of a youngling 
acutely and painfully aware of the need to not err in front of sharp-eyed 
parents, and only when both of the taller elves before affirm her welcome does 
her expression waver into a keen and undeniable, profound relief. ** <Gratitude> 
** wells up and out of her in a burst of a sending, while her mouth even 
trembles a little. ** <Weariness> Thank you...! **

Rahna does not switch likewise to sending, though it clearly doesn't disturb her 
in the least. "You're very welcome. Perhaps you will stay a while, and we will 
get to know one another," she suggests, her expression still perfectly serene 
and unflustered by the effusiveness of the guest. "Kaer, love, do you still have 
any of that young leaper Alons caught? I did, but I think Maori walked off with 
what I had left." Her entire tone and bearing changes slightly as she addresses 
the sandy haired elf, the shoulders relaxing just a hair, her voice a touch 
warmer and less 'perfect' in polite enunciation.

Kaer says "Of course, Rahna love. It is quite tender... I think our guest will 
appreciate it." He turns and gives a short whistle, sending something private to 
a distant answer before returning his attention to Ynderra, "So, Kai... we have 
not heard from him in many turns. Nor Jeela, though we had feared the worst." 
It's apparent that the recollections have disturbed him in some way.

Ynderra pulls in a deep breath, holds it, releases it... clearly, she's trying 
to relax. Okay. Made it to the jungle and nobody's booting her out on her ear 
yet. This is a start! She musters a bit of a smile again, her boots dangling in 
one hand now as she reaches with the other to fidget with the necklace at her 
throat. "I haven't heard from him in a while either," she admits. "That's, um, 
kind of why I left the Holt. To look for him. And, um, my sister. Myriel. But 
Akira said she hasn't been here, either!"

Rahna considers the wolfrider's words and nods, absorbing the information. "I'm 
sorry to hear that. I wish we had news for you. There is no Myriel here either. 
Won't you sit? Your feet can't be /that/ eager for more work," she observes, 
elegant brows lifting slightly, with - amusement? From The corners of her lips 
make a tiny little curve.

"Yes, sit." Kaer motions downwards a bit impatiently, not wishing to appear an 
inconsiderate host perhaps. "No need to sit there like a frightened ravvit, 
waiting for the arrow. You are quite safe here... nothing comes into the 
Encampment that the sentries do not see first."

Derra's smile gets a little bigger at that, even if it is embarrassed. "Thank 
you," she murmurs, and it's heartfelt. Her feet might be unmarred, every tiny 
muscle in them soothed by two bursts of her power, but that doesn't mean they're 
thrilled at continued standing. She sinks back down to where she'd sat before, 
just beside her bow and her small sack of possessions. "I wish _I_ could tell 
_you_ more of Jeela, but it's been long enough since she Recognized Crystal that 
I barely remember her at all... I-I, um, think I've started losing her in the 
Now, you know?" Wait a minute, does she have to explain that? "I-I mean, of wolf 
thought, that is." Setting her boots down beside her bow, she fidgets with her 
necklace with both hands now, and stares morosely at nothing in particular. 
"I've got Kai's sendings of her scent, still... but they're kind of blurry too, 
by now."

Rahna's amusement continues, redirecting its focus toward Kaer. "I suspect if 
anything comes prowling about, she'll hear it - or smell it - as soon as our 
sentries would." As Ynderra sits down once more, Rahna takes two gliding steps 
to a log, and seats herself gracefully on it, folding her hands lightly in her 
lap. An eloquent glance invites her lifemate to sit beside her. Turning to 
Ynderra, she nods, with an expression arranged to convey a sense of 
understanding, rather than be so blunt as to say it aloud. "Even so, you may 
find her yet. Or not, as these things come to be."

Kaer sits besides Rahna, nodding in agreement, "Cat Elves usually find a way to 
survive. Just because you do not find them here does not mean they might have 
gone someplace else. It is a vast world out there."

"So I'm kind of figuring out," Ynderra agrees swiftly. "Bigger than anybody at 
Lostholt imagined--I mean, what with Wayfound's friends--" Um. Wait a minute. Do 
they want to hear about that? The healer maid nibbles on her lip for a minute, 
speculating. After how _Lostholt_ reacted to the Tall Ones from over the sea... 
"But that's, um, kind of a long story. A _really_ long story. But anyway, I-I-I 
hadn't really realized exactly how many hills there are between Lostholt and 
here! And that's kind of something else I wanted to come ask you about because 
if they weren't here, I would welcome any advice about where else to look..." 
Once again with the lip nibbling. "As long as you don't say Blue Mountain, 
'cause if I go anywhere near there, Cutter and Strongbow will skin me both, and 
so will Mother!"

Rahna dips her chin once, in agreement with Kaer's remarks. "You are fortunate 
that it is Cat Elves you are seeking," she opines. She waits patiently through 
the brief pause for internal monologue, then listens attentively to the rest of 
the chatter. She doesn't respond quite immediately, as if the sheer volume of 
input requires a moment to catch up with. "In that case, I won't suggest Blue 
Mountain," she assures the traveler. Another joke? "I will think on suggestions. 
It would not do to be too hasty. You've already made one very long, fruitless 
trip. It would not do to send you off on another. There is time."

Kaer says "Yes, there is time. Rest yourself and eat now... we will think 
further on your problem. Unfortunately, there are numerous places they might 
go... but not Blue Mountain, I think."

Round and around the wooden leaves in Ynderra's fingers go. "They're not in 
Sorrow's End either, or at least they weren't when Skywise and Rillwhisper and 
Woodhawk and Trollkiller and I were all there, dealing with..." A bit of a hitch 
in her voice, now, and a fleeting darkening of otherwise guileless sky-colored 
eyes. "Doreel. And I'm pretty sure they weren't with the Raft Elves because 
Wayfound's friends didn't see 'em there, but I haven't made it that far to Sun-
Goes-Down myself...! And Wayfound didn't see 'em with the Plainsrunners."

"Well," Rahna begins contemplatively, "that narrows it down slightly. That 
should be helpful. Though nothing's preventing them from moving in one direction 
while you move another. We will think on this," she promises. "In the meantime, 
make yourself at home. No one will interfere with you, and we will do our best 
to see that you are comfortable while you stay with us." She doesn't inquire 
about those names which are unfamiliar to her.

"I really appreciate it," Ynderra pipes to Rahna. She said that already--but 
hey, it bears repeating. Her slender frame visibly sags from the effort to try 
to relax, and now that she's sitting down again she starts giving her calves the 
same treatment her feet had gotten, unthinkingly taking each in her hand in 
sequence and calling up that ethereal green-golden light. Even as she does, she 
goes on, "I-I-I admit I'm awful tired of traveling around all by myself... it's 
not like I've done much at the Holt lately, I mean, I almost _totally_ missed 
your tribemate Mathryn showing up, except Rill dragged me out of the den and 
told me to quit moping. So then I saw him and I was kind of reminded. Um. Of 
Kai, I mean. So I thought I'd better go looking!"

Kaer nods sympathetically, "Well, at least you know that they didn't travel 
north from the Lostholt." He doesn't elaborate, assuming that everyone knows 
what he is speaking of.

She's not a clever huntress. She's not a talented tanner, or a tracker, or a 
scout. But if there's anything Ynderra _does_ understand and intimately, it's 
the state of her own body's flesh and bones. More relief creeps across her 
dainty features as she doggedly persuades each of her calves to unknot; then she 
moves up to working on her knees. Stupid knees. _If I ever learn to shape flesh, 
High Ones, I swear I'm going to do something about my knees...!_ "I don't eve 
want to _think_," she mutters tiredly, "about them moving around while I am. 
Timmorn's Blood, they could have gone south the same way Wayfound and her 
friends and Rill and the others did too, and I'll go that way if I have to but 
_puckernuts_, I'm sick of walking! I don't even have a wolf-friend right now 
either!"

Kaer raises an eyebrow as the last of Ynderra's mutter catches his attention, 
"South? Rillwhisper and others went south? Where?" His tone is light, curious.

Ynderra looks up, meeting Kaer's eyes and looking momentarily startled that an 
offhand babbled remark of hers actually caught. "Oh," she blurts, mid-healing of 
her right knee. "Um! Well, if I understand it right, there's a whole other land 
far to the south of here! Rillwhisper and some of the other ones who used to be 
at Willowholt went there. Looking for Wayfound--oh, right. She's Rillwhisper's 
daughter. And Wayfound's..." A fractional pause; this time, the maiden nibbles 
on one corner of her lip. "Wayfound's friends are from there, but they kind of 
got lost and Wayfound was going to guide them home."

"South where?" Rahna snags on the same piece of information. 
Rahna's eyes widen slightly. "South of HERE? By what route? How did these 
friends of Wayfound," the name is foreign on her tongue, and she pronounces it 
as if it tasted a little funny, "get here?"

Kaer looks slightly amused at Ynderra. "South of here? There is nothing south of 
here, cousin," he replies slowly. "The jungles end at the chasm which is 
uncrossable. They'd have to travel a long ways down the edge of the VastDeep 
from the Briarholt..."

Vigorously, Derra bobs her head to Rahna. "Uh-huh--south of here. At least, 
that's the direction Djhala told Wayfound to take her friends since _he_ 
remembered going down that way a long, long, _long_ time ago!" For just a 
fraction of an instant she starts to roll her eyes at Kaer, but just in time she 
catches herself. He _is_ the chief here. It wouldn't do to roll one's eyes at 
the chief just after getting invited to sit and rest for a while. Instead, she 
points eastward. "Djhala told them to go that way. He said there was land to 
connect this land and the one to the south, past the jungle. More like around 
the end of the desert where Sorrow's End is."

Rahna follows the tale, intrigued enough by the news to break her focus on the 
magical work being executed in front of her. "/East/ then south. I wonder if it 
really /could/ be."

Kaer blinks, his eyes widening in surprise and dismay. "That way? Past the 
jungle? B-But... but there's nothing out there but the badlands, stretching as 
far as has ever been explored eastwards. Ash and dust and longtooth packs... 
hardly any water and certainly no game." He frowns, leaning forward. 
"Rillwhisper and her tribemates went that way?"

Derra's dark head bobs again, this time to Kaer. "Wayfound and her friends left 
a long time ago. Rill and the others went after her." Her expression skews 
again, as she stops to think a moment... and then to admit with a tiny sigh, 
"Sort of for the same reason I'm looking for Kai. 'cause, y'know, family and all 
that. The Wolfbringer didn't want her cub going that far away without her."

Rahna's brows draw together in the most mobile expression she has made all 
evening, though even her concern has a polish to it. "We can't go after them, 
Kaer. We don't have the resources ourselves," she lets her thoughts form words 
as she frets over the situation.

Kaer, half-rising from his seat, shakes his head in slow denial of the situation 
even as Rahna's words sink in... he knows that she is right. Still... the 
badlands... "I can only hope that there is something beyond the badlands, a safe 
trail for them to follow." Inwardly, he recalls Rillwhisper's face once, perhaps 
in a sad farewell.

"Wait a minute, who said anything about--" Hardly expecting _this_ kind of 
reaction, the healer blinks from one chief to the other and back again, and then 
blurts, "Um... Djhala--he's Savah's lifemate, you know about him, right?--said 
there was a way, I mean, he sent the whole route right into Wayfound's head, or 
so Rill told me... they should be okay!" The look on Kaer's face rattles her, 
just a trifle, and so she swiftly appends, hoping to soothe, "I mean, High Ones, 
Rillwhisper tackled a mad Firstborn and stabbed him, if anybody can get down 
there safely she can, and she had both her lifemates and Dawn with her too! And 
Wayfound... well. She's a strange cub but she's _awfully_ smart, so I bet she'll 
have figured out the right thing to do. They're probably all okay down there by 
now anyway! It's been a few turns of the seasons by now since they left."

Rahna shakes her head dismissively. "He's an old, smart elf, but he's been away 
from the jungle too long. You get soft, a little, if you stay away from the 
jungle for too long, and he's not even going himself, Kaer says." She doesn't 
even bother speculating on the relative ability of the non Cat Elves to make 
their way across the badlands successfully. "I didn't realize it was so long 
ago," she speaks, more slowly.

Kaer sighs, shaking his head. "Having faith in them has little to do with it, 
cousin. The badlands are... well, death. Even we do not hunt them often and we 
never linger for very long."

Rahna tilts her head. "They may have made it. There's always a chance. And while 
luck is never to be relied upon, it sometimes has pity on fools, and humors them 
in generous ways."

** Rillwhisper will make it. ** Flighty and fidgety as this black-haired 
Wolfrider maiden seems to be, this sending comes out of her with rock-solid 
clarity. Faith resonates through it--but then again, it's faith that's been 
honed by watching the Wolfbringer's strength firsthand. She proffers forth an 
image: the red-golden-haired she-elf who was once chieftess of the Willowholt, 
her hair down and loose but her bearing still that of a chief she-wolf, ramming 
a dagger home into the breast of a mad-eyed elf trying to blast her with a surge 
of power. ** She's like Cutter. ** And she smiles again, half-heartedly, but 
even that comes out with more surety than her earlier uncertain quirks of her 
lips. ** Which I guess is partly also why she and the others left. Too many 
chiefs in one Holt, especially after Strongbow took over for a while. **

Kaer shrugs, bringing his smile back somewhat ** In any case, Ynderra, please 
feel free to use one of the empty tents and be a welcome guest. ** Outwardly, 
he's apparently finished with the subject of the travelers, but perhaps his 
lifemate can read his true despair.

The strain of her hospitality is beginning to show around Rahna's eyes, though 
her demeanor seems unaffected. "Yes. Please make yourself comfortable. We will 
leave you to your rest, I'm sorry if we've kept you from retiring. If you need 
anything, a scout will always be nearby."

Rahna might have the advantage of being Kaer's lifemate--but Ynderra is far too 
much of a healer not to recognize a wounded look in someone's expression. She 
stares long and searchingly at Kaer, blue eyes going liquid, before she finally 
takes the signal to back off the subject for what it must clearly be. ** Thank 
you, ** she sends then to both chieftains, her mind's voice laden with a sense 
of withdrawal even if she doesn't physically budge a finger's width. Then she 
drops her eyes--the not-pack she-wolf acknowledging the superiority of the pack 
in whose territory she now bides, even if these others will not know the bodily 
language of wolves. There's one other thread there, too: wordless apology to 
Kaer, though for what she apologizes she does not say. ** I won't take up much 
space. I'm little. **

Rahna glances back over her shoulder as she heads out of the clearing, and nods 
to the wolfling. "All is well. Be well and we shall talk another day."

Kaer follows after Rahna, flipping Ynderra a wry grin by way of leaving her to 
rest.

Ynderra's countenance, as readable and clear as a summer sky, isn't quite 
certain of Rahna's exiting promise... but she's willing enough to buy it. She 
bobs her head to both of the others as they take their leave and turns to gather 
up her belongings for retreat into one of those aforementioned tents. And for 
the sake of not saying anything _else_ amiss to her hosts, keeps to herself the 
sardonic final question of whether she might not just want to discreetly depart 
the way she'd come as soon as she can stand to walk once more....

[End log.]