Log Date: 10/24/96 Log Cast: Dart, Strongbow, Blaze, Branch, Phylor (brief cameo), Myriel, Moonshyne, Shyraven, Dewshine Log Intro: In desperation induced both by extreme hunger and extreme concern for not only his own safety but also that of Trouble (for whom he cares greatly), Dart flees Doreel's grove, running for help to get the young huntress out of Doreel's clutches. Dart's flight from the grove is an ordeal, however, for he does not make it unscathed past the spiders that still roam the woods nearby. Dazed by their poison in his blood, and driven by the overriding need to get help for Trouble, Dart barely stops for concerns like hunting or water. Finally, reduced to tatters by his frantic journey, he stumbles into Lostholt... which, in the meantime, has received other visitors. ---------- You walk towards the Father Tree. Base of the Lost Holt Father Tree(#765RJ) A dense grove of grotesquely shaped trees dominated by one immense Grandfather of a tree whose age is no less great than its size. It is obvious that the old tree has survived a terrible tragedy and you can see some of the scars left by the terrible blaze on the snow covered branches. Snow lies piled around the trees roots and in drifts around the Father Tree. Like old friends, the gnarled trees embrace one another, their many branches entwined and now snow collects atop them, occasionally crashing down to the ground below. Evening falls clear and cold over the snow-covered holt. The first stars of evening appear above. Contents: ColdHands' bundle SafeRunner Calmwind(#7032Jopq) Obvious exits: Into the Tree Around the Tree Clearing Strongbow walks out of the Father Tree. Strongbow has arrived. Slipping down among the branches with a just-awakened expression, the archer makes his way to the lowest branch of the Father Tree. Bow slung over shoulder and one hand idly stroking the string, he makes some soft growling noise to himself and pauses, scenting the air from the branch. Dart stumbles into the clearing, breathing hard and looking as though he'll collapse at any moment. Dart sends openly ** Father.. Trouble.. she's still in the grove... Doreel.. ** A breath later, the archer lands on the ground in front of the tree, and two steps later, has both hands on his son's shoulders. ** ?! ** His gaze searches his son's form and face, worrifully. ** _Where?_ ** Dart Ribs stick out like winter bared branches and the stomach growls demanding sustinence, a time of great hunger has struck the young jackwolf chieftain making him too lean for his own good. Tangles of brown hair are matted against equally grimey, paled flesh. Sunken cheeks and dull eyes provide further testament to Dart's recent starvation. Several unusual bites marr Dart's right arm as though he tried to fend off some kind of fanged reptile or spider. Dart's once richly coloured and well tended clothes have been reduced to tatters. What was once a brilliant green loincloth is torn and fraying at the edges. His once new boots have worn through the toes and soles from extensive running while whatever tops caused the faint tanlines on the young chieftains arms and chest is long gone. Not even Dart's leather forearm bracers escaped whatever ordeal he's been through, orange fringe is missing or torn while the green leather is shredded or missing completly in others. Strongbow(#1377PBUXce) Deep brown, steady eyes gaze uncompromisingly out from under a knotted band of spotted leather, missing no detail, crediting nothing with more weight than its worth. Tall amongst the Wolfriders, but never towering, Strongbow's stance is wholly that of the hunter. His deep brown hair shines with highlights of red, and, in moonlight, even violet, falling shaggy over his brow and back over the leather band about his head. His long, chiseled face is lengthened and lined further by a sharp line of brown facefur from ear to chin and peaked up at either side of his mouth. Slung over one shoulder, the arc of his bow mismatches the chiseled lines of his face, torso, and legs. Strongbow wears a split-front tunic of forest green leather, accented in dun and lighter green, blending well into forest shadow. A narrow brown belt cinches the tunic about his waist and is echoed by a sling that holds his quiver over his back. High, soft boots cover his long legs up to midthigh, not meeting the bottom of his tunic by a full handspan. He wears a leather bracer on his bow arm and no other adornments. Dart sends an image of Doreel's grove, particularly emphasizing mushrooms and spiders for some as yet unknown reason. ** She's still there! Wouldn't leave with me! ** Strongbow drops his head and turns away, body language near-defeated. His send, though, is sharp and powerful, narrow and keen: ** We need fire, and elves. ** A pause, and more quietly, ** Fire. Again. ** The archer turns back then. ** Feed you. ** Strongbow sends to the whole tribe ** Trouble. In the mad one's grove. ** Blaze walks out of the Father Tree. Blaze has arrived. Blaze sticks his head out of the Father Tree and peers at Strongbow. Eyes dark and brows furrowed, the archer considers his son, unhappy. At the sound of footsteps coming from the Father Tree, Strongbow sends, aside, ** Food in the stores, in the roots... ** Strongbow reaches out a hand to his son's shoulder, silent for a moment, and then sending, just as silent. Blaze nodnods, knowing just where they are. "Okay, I'll get em." Blaze walks up into the rough opening that leads into the tree. Blaze has left. Dart's eyes drop to the ground, "Wouldn't leave... she wouldn't." [To Dart] The archer's tone, in locked sending, is quieter still, and full. ** What's he done to you? ** And, as an afterthought, ** To Trouble? ** Blaze walks out of the Father Tree. Blaze has arrived. Blaze pelts out of the Father Tree, arms full of all sorts of things, mostly dried meats of different kinds. [To Blaze] Quietly, the archer sends gratitude, and an additional request for water, the bounty in your arms yet not seen. The archer's gaze sticks on his son, dark and unhappy. ** Dart? ** You locksend to Strongbow, Dart sends quietly, ** Gave Trouble mushrooms to eat... ** The quiet tone shifts to one of unmistakeable fear, ** The spiders! Webs... couldn't move. Trouble made them cut me free. ** Strongbow's palm upon his son's shoulder tightens a little, lines standing out in the archer's jaw and neck. He nods, and, in a wordless send, mentally gestures Blaze forward. ** Food, ** he sends, paternally and oddly gentle. Blaze pads cautiously over to the two archers, "I didn't know what to grab, just got a little of everything." Dart eyes the food greedily, but instead of grabbing the food from the obviously nervous cub he holds out both hands. ** Please, cub? ** Strongbow sends, quietly, at his son, ** Slowly. ** Blaze nods and smiles, shifting the awkward bundle so that he can hand the various morsels to Dart. He hands a few decent sized chunks of deer meat to the chieftain. Dart tears into the deer meat with a ravenous zeal, taking enormous bites at first, he slows a little at the send. Branch walks around from behind the Father Tree. Branch has arrived. A tiny shadow of a smile tugs at the corners of Strongbow's mouth, and he shakes his head. ** Did good to come for us, ** he murmurs. Dart sends around his devouring, ** Closer... Village too far to help. ** Blaze keeps handing Dart food, amazed that anyone could eat that fast. "Sheesh, even Pike eats slower than you!" Strongbow nods. Again, he murmurs, thoughtfully now rather than arrowlike, ** We need fire. ** Branch steps over a root as he comes around the Father Tree, pausing as he sees the other elves. He smiles and nods in greeting. Strongbow turns at the sound of footsteps from the side of the Father Tree, and sends wordless greeting to the guest. Branch nods again to the send. ** Heyla, cousins. Have you seen my daughter? ** Strangely sharp and concerned, Strongbow's answer is fast. ** How long since you saw her last? ** His gaze skates to Branch, dark. Branch The dark shag of brown hair and the lightly tanned complexion of this elf makes him seem as if he had sprung from the very earth and trees themselves. He is lean and medium built,though he moves with a strength and confidence that gives you the impression of purpose in every movement. His glance meets yours with a quiet but definite sense of a hunter's soul, his hazel-brown eyes flecked with touches of grey staring into your own for a moment before drawing them away. He is dressed in light but sturdy travelling leathers, which have obviously seen many turns of wanderings. They are a little tight fitting because of their age, but do not seem uncomfortable. Made slightly thicker than his usual leathers, the tunic is full-sleeved and closed at the front, with a close neckline, dropping only slightly. His breeches are still a bit loose, letting a free range of movement, and are stitched closely up the sides. Both are a light brown in color, etched with a faint, almost unnoticable, veining of a lighter brown, almost like marble, looking very much like the play of shadows through the forest canopy. As usual, a medium hunting knife is laced to his leg just above the ankle. Dart glances up sharply from his eating, clutching the piece of meat possessively. After a moment he resumes the rapid eating, eyes watching the stranger warily. Branch blinks slightly, and glances around, thinking. ** Mm, not long. She sometimes goes wandering a bit. Is there a problem? ** His send shows a slowly mounting concern at the strength of the send. Strongbow's reply almost hisses, like a bowstring just released. ** Tribesmate is in...a dangerous place. ** To Dart, he queries, ** The jackwolfriders? ** Blaze hands Dart the last chunk of meat, smiling sheepishly, "Want some more?" The youngster glances over at Branch, "Haven't seen her." The Lostholt archer amends, with a trace of pride beneath his concern, ** Your tribe. And fire. Will Sorrow's End be safe without them? ** Branch's brow furrows at the reply, glancing to Dart and Blaze and back. ** Dangerous... ** he starts to send, then looks off into the surrounding trees, sending searchingly, calling. Dart blinks at his sire, seemingly confused until the clarification, ** Too far away, need help sooner. ** Dart swallows the last of the offered food, shaking his head at the cub's question. He reaches out with one slender arm and ruffles the cub's hair, ** Enough for now... full. ** Branch seems to get a reply, as he looks in a specific direction. A moment later, he turns back to Strongbow, but pausing as he sees his attention is elsewhere. Strongbow closes his eyes and drops the hand from his son's shoulder. ** Then some of us must go. With fire. ** He inhales, as if to sigh, but never relaxes thereafter. You sense in a locksend, Strongbow grouses, thinking as if aloud, ** Can't leave tribe. Chiefs gone. Small tribe with so many gone. ** He pauses, and, lowly, states, unwilling to make it a question, ** You're well. ** Branch looks between the two, sinking to sit on the root. ** Is there something wrong? ** Dart shakes his head at his sire in response to an unspoken question. Strongbow turns toward Branch, away from Dart and the cub. ** Doreel. ** With the single word, a name, comes images: a tall, lithe elf in a grove surrounded by spiders -- spiders of size like to an elf's chest -- and venom and poisonous fever-dreams, shrooms and shaped fruits. With it, an odd pity, the archer's own feeling for the sad ancient elf -- pity and anger. Strongbow sends, darkly, ** Mad one. Tribesmate, Trouble, is there. ** Blaze's eyes go wide at the send, his jaw drops and he looks from Dart to Strongbow with an odd mix of fear and wonder coloring his stunned expression. Dart shudders at the image of the spiders, tan skin paling further. Blaze Aside from growing like moonweed, the little cub has lost the last of his infants chubbiness and young muscles are starting to show promise. Young Blaze's complexion is slightly more golden than the average wolfrider, a trait that's brought out by the mop of black hair that hangs down to his shoulders and occasionally across his face. Sky-blue eyes light with mischief and childish fun, his grin sparkles with the innocence only childhood could cause. Everything the little cub wears is spotted with grass stains or dirt but at one point the lad's shirt was light grey in color with dark blue patches on the elbows and shoulder. Blaze's leggings, the same dark blue as the patches, are worn through on the right knee but he doesn't seem to notice. Grey shoes protect the cubs feet from whatever he could find to step in. In general, the cub needs a good scrub, if you can catch him and get him into the water that is. Branch shudders slightly at the images, and nods slowly. ** I see... It seems this tribesmate of yours is in need of much luck... ** Strongbow turns toward his son once more, and looks down at the cub. ** Blaze... ** He frowns, then lowers to one knee, looking up slightly at him. ** We'll bring her back. And maybe the mad one, too. ** He reaches out to squeeze Blaze's shoulder, then looks up at his own son. ** You need rest, cub. ** He winces, instantly, at the affectionate, knowing the sound of it in Dart's ears. Blaze stammers even at the reassurance, "Promise?" Strongbow nods once, soberly, and rises. ** Yes. ** He looks evenly at Dart, then, gaze taking in the details of hunger and weariness. Dart nods once, ** Tired... ** Dart scratches at a few half healed wounds on his right arm, he glances down somewhat amazed.. as though he hadn't noticed them before now. ** ....? ** Blaze looks at Dart as critically as a cub can manage, "Momma could fix you if she were here... she went ta Willowholt to fix the trees." Strongbow reaches out to Dart, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, and sends something, low. Strongbow locksends ** Leetah's not here...Ynderra in Willowholt...Mender... . ** Strongbow sighs a bit. ** Rest. And time. ** You sense in a locksend, Phylor just touches your mind with a feeling, <>, his Send weak. Branch sits by quietly, listening, his attention seeming divided, then looks back over his shoulder, and stands. He looks back a moment and sends, ** Good luck to you and your tribesmate. If I can help, I am here to ask ** Dart sends openly ** Sleep... ** Strongbow nods. ** Come on. ** He gestures, mentally and with one hand, toward the denning tree, and leads that way. Branch turns back and walks back in the direction his gaze was. Branch walks around to the back of the Father Tree. Branch has left. Strongbow walks around to the back of the Father Tree. Strongbow has left. Dart follows along behind his sire. [After Blaze watches Strongbow lead Dart off to rest, the lad returns to the clearing; there, he finds more of the Holt visitors -- as well as his aunt Myriel.] Myriel says, lazilly, *allo* Blaze bounds out of the Father Tree, looking as though he's going to explode if he doesn't say a whole lot of stuff. Moonshyne turns slightly, at the sound of someone else bouncing out. Shyraven stepsback close to Moonshyne, as Blaze bounds out, watching curiously. Moonshyne's smile returns, and she lays a hand on Shy's shoulder, gently squeezing. Myriel sends openly ** Allo to you too, Cubling. ** Blaze blurts, "Dart's back from whereever he was, Strongbow called it the 'mad ones grove' I think he meant Doreel's Grove, Momma told me about that, Dart look real sick and he at reallyrealy fast, faster than _PIKE_ and Strongbow said something about Trouble still being at that grove place..." He pauses, and blushes realizing that no one asked for that blast of information. Moonshyne blinks slightly. Myriel peers down at Blaze. *Whoa... slow down a little bit cubling.* Myriel hops down off her branch, next to Blaze. Shyraven watches Blaze curiously, "Who's Dart? I heard daddy talking about Strongbow being the chief person here..." Blaze bites his lip, wondering if he should be the one saying all this. "Trouble's in Doreel's Grove, an and Dart just got back from there. He was all skinny and looked real sick." Myriel sends openly ** Where is he now? ** Blaze point back at the denning tree, "Strongbow took him back there cause he was tired." Moonshyne shakes her head, saying softly to Shyraven. "I do not know..." Myriel sends to someone. Shyraven ohs, face setting into a mild pout. Blaze turns to the other, older cub, "Dart's Strongbow cub, 'cept he's old and he's a chieftain!" Just a fountain of information this cub. Shyraven grins, brightening out of her pout quickly. "I like having more cubs to play with!" And shrugs her shoulders. "So was SUndown and New--err. Them. And they weren't nothing speical. They weren't even around a lot of the time. She didn't like me, see" Moonshyne smiles slightly as Shyraven says more then she's heard from her in a long time.. Blaze hmmphs, "Dart's too old to play wif, Momma says he's got a grandcub!" Shyraven ohs, "That's too old?" half-turning toward Moonshyne with the question. Myriel climbs back onto her branch, someone less cheerful than she seemed before. Moonshyne smiles slightly. "Oh... for play? I would think no one is too old for that..." again saying the words quietly. Shyraven grins, and turns back to Blaze. "see!" You say "Dart's a chief! He got lots to do instead of play!" Shyraven just shrugs her rebuttal to that. "She your mom?" Pointing to Myriel. "I'm Shyraven." Dewshine appears, climing down one of the branches of the Father Tree. Shyraven grins, waving to Dewshine. "We're still here!" Dewshine chuckles, "So I see, cubling. " She nods to Moonshyne, and her tribemates Moonshyne nods slightly.. Blaze blinks at Myriel and then at Shyraven, "Nuh-uh! She's my Momma's twin!" Blaze says proudly, "An my name's Blaze!" Shyraven grins. "Well, hello, Blaze.I'm glad you're here" She steps away from Moonshyne, softening her voices, "Adults can get boring sometimes. They don't mean anything though" Dewshine grins at this bit of information.. Blaze nods, "Pike's fun though, he knows lotsa stories an falls down cause he eats lotsa dreamberries." Moonshyne hides a smile, and says in a mock-stern voice. "Shyraven...." Shyraven looks backtoward Moonshyne, stricken as she realizes she's been overheard. Shyraven turns back to Blaze, suddenly realizingthat Moonshyne won't know. "He does? I like stories..." Her face gets stern. "good ones though. No trees or nothing." Blaze finally notices Dewshine and sets into the same chatter he gave Myriel, "Dart's back from Doreel's Grove, an he looked real sick, and Trouble's still there and Dart ate a whole lotta food, and ate it really fast, and now he's sleeping cause he said he was tired. And Strongbow took him back to the other denning tree so he could sleep, I think he's still there making sure no one bugs him." He doesn't blush nearly as much this time, I mean Myriel wanted to know why wouldn't Dewshine. Dewshine blinks, and blinks again, then bites her lip, glancing at the other denning tree. Shyraven backs up, quietly, so as to not be in the way. Myriel leaves, quietly. Moonshyne with some hesitation, or is that just unsureness, places her hand on the cub's shoulder and squeezes... Shyraven leans her head against Moonshyne, yawning. Moonshyne smiles... "Tired, little raven?" [And meanwhile, as Strongbow watches his son retreat to take desperately needed rest....] Strongbow shakes his head, letting his son go without a send or a touch. Strange in the silence after his son's retreat into the denning tree, he sends to himself, tone dour and resigned. ** Have to be a chief now. ** [End log.]