Log Date: Thursday, October 12, 1995 Log Background: After the Howl at Lostholt in honor of Ember's daughter's change of name to Minx, Ynderra -- who got quite blitzed on dreamberries during the Howl -- wandered blissfully around the Holt in a berry haze. In fact, she and Ember both flirted outrageously with Strongbow, even while a Glider, Viresse, came visiting on a mission of mysterious purpose. Afterwards, Ynderra was convinced by Strongbow to retreat to the trees -- where she could at least be quiet -- but wound up falling off the top branches and requiring Strongbow catch her. Strongbow's right ankle was broken, but he kept this from the drunken young healer, and hauled her off to rest in his den until she could be coherent enough to heal him. The next morning, it was noticed that Strongbow missed his watch -- and Spidersilk, aghast that Strongbow had gone unhealed the entire night, quickly summoned Leetah. Leetah healed Ynderra of a hangover which was only made worse by Ynderra's attempts to heal herself -- and Ynderra, once more coherent, promptly fled, remembering something of her drunken behavior.... ---------- You sense in a locksend, Leetah sends rather softly, as to not intrude. ** Ynderra? ** You locksend to Leetah, Ynderra doesn't answer immediately. She's there, you think; she hasn't left the Holt. And that suspicion is confirmed when she eventually sends back, with the mental version of peeking warily out of protective cover, ** ? ** You sense in a locksend, Leetah's sending takes on a slightly maternal air. ** Can we talk, kit? ** You locksend ** Is there something we need to talk about? ** to Leetah. Leetah locksends ** Yes, I think there is. ** You locksend ** Oh. Um. Okay... ** to Leetah. Leetah locksends ** Where are you? ** You locksend ** Up on the... skywatching branch. Th'other den tree. ** to Leetah. Leetah has arrived. Ynderra uncurls a little, from where she'd sequestered herself, as unobtrusively as possible. Her eyes are large and dark in her face, and she eyes you uncertainly. Leetah tries to be non-threatening in posture, and smiles softly. She holds out a hand to you. Ynderra scoots warily closer, blushing, looking a lot like she and her twin sister have looked during their childhood when they've gotten the scoldings of their lives. Ynderra mumbles embarrassedly, "I didn't mean for him to fall..." Leetah sits down, and nods. "Of course you didn't.. things like that happen all the time." She smiles softly. "He'd like it if you were the one to heal him this time, though." Ynderra looks stunned. "But... I...." She turns a vivid shade of scarlet. Leetah tries to look like she knows absolutly nothing. "What happened, anyway?" You say "I-I thought you were going to -- and anyway, I..." Ynderra turns even brighter, ducking her gaze and mumbling, "I, uh, only kinda remember some of it..." Leetah folds her hands in her lap, and waits, her expression typical of the mother waiting for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Ynderra squeaks, "I, um, had a few dreamberries..." Leetah waits. Ynderra wilts under that infinitely patient gaze, and eventually, the story comes creeping out of her, as reluctantly as a tree-horn fawn tottering out of a thicket when it's sure that something is going to pounce it. "Well, see, Minx'd dared me to try to nibble Strongbow's ears, even though that was in the Newgreen... but I guess I hadn't really forgotten... anyway, at the Howl 'Silk was making a big deal over him, and he really is kind of cute, you know...." Her pace picks up, but more from an anxiousness to get the story overwith than any eagerness in telling it... Ynderra continues pleadingly, "I-I really haven't had ANYBODY, I mean, since Kai, you know? So I-I guess I got sort of carried anyway... and... ohmigosh..." She wilts even further. "There was a GLIDER here, and I was all silly... ohhhh... puckernuts..." Ynderra tries to curl up in a ball, mortified. Leetah tries to sort out that story, and quirks a brow. "Indeed.." Leetah says "A Glider?" Ynderra nods miserably. "I don't remember who it was... somebody looking for somebody.... I think... she talked to Strongbow..." Leetah thinks about this for a bit, and then nods. "I see." Ynderra goes on heavily, "I think... I think Strongbow said I was being too noisy. So I went up in the Father Tree, you know? 'Cause it's quiet up there..." She blushes again, and her voice drops to a truly embarrassed whisper, as she hastens through her next few sentences. "So I sort of kind of climbed up to the top of the tree and I guess I was sort of shaping one of the branches and it got kind of twisted up and Strongbow sent to me and I guess I fell and I guess he caught me and I guess he broke his ankle!" Leetah nods thoughtfully. "And you're still embarrased by it.." Ynderra leans closer and says, mournfully, in a "clearly you do NOT understand" sort of tone, "I was in his _den_." Leetah says "I know that." Leetah says "Are you going to leave him in pain while you hide from him, though?" Ynderra explains in exasperated and embarrassed tones, "And I was _drunk_ and I acted _really_ silly and I bet he really thinks I'm a fluffhead..." She pales, though, at that last question. Leetah nods. "And what if he doesn't? Don't you think he ever got drunk? Ever? In his whole life?" Ynderra stares at the older elf incredulously. "Strongbow? _Drunk_?" Leetah nods. Ynderra starts shaking her head vehemently. "No way. He only had a berry or two at the Howl 'cause 'Silk was throwing them at him! And he didn't even act different!" Leetah nods again. "Tolerance, perhaps? How do you think he got it?" Ynderra snorts, hugging her arms to herself, and glowering at nothing in particular. "I'd believe it if I saw it," she mutters ruefully. Leetah shrugs. "Anyway. He's still sitting in there with a broken ankle.." Ynderra is silent for a long moment, then she whispers, "I... thought you were gonna heal him." Leetah shakes her head. Ynderra looks nervously back off into the Holt, clearly deliberating. There's a pained cast to her eyes that can't entirely be from embarrassment -- and she rubs reflexively at her own ankle, with one hand. You say "If you... really think he wants _me_ to do..." Ynderra trails off. Leetah nods. Leetah says "In fact, I'm absolutly positive he'd like you to do it." Ynderra considers this, and bites her lip, and finally, shakily, nods. "Can't leave him broken..." Ynderra with trepidation climbs back down through the tree. [Ynderra and Leetah make their way back to Strongbow's den....] Strongbow and Moonshade's Den(#4665RJh) Soft leathers and furs of many kinds, expertly tanned and, in some cases, dyed, line a hollow in the side of this small, cozy den. A small opening in the side of the tree, very close to where the wood curves in to form the ceiling, allows in light from the moons or the sun, gentled by the leaves overhead. You hear hushed noises as the holt slowly comes to life as elves and wolves awaken from the hot summer sleep. Contents: Frostfire Obvious exits: Out Leetah has arrived. Strongbow has connected. Strongbow sits there, fondling a piece of fur that's starting, through his lifemate's strange power, to turn into a boot-lining. Ynderra arrives at the door of the den, and peers in nervously. Ynderra calls in sheepishly, "Um... Strongbow?" Strongbow looks up, dropping the piece of fur into his lap. ** ? ** Leetah stands behind Ynderra. Whether she's there for reassurance, or just to stop her in case she runs again, she's there. Strongbow smiles slightly. ** Come on in. ** Ynderra slips in carefully, blue gaze immediately falling on the archer's wounded ankle, and her mouth tightening unconsciously in sympathy. "Leetah, um, we thought we should make sure you were okay, and everything..." Strongbow nods, welcoming Ynderra with a sweep of his arms. ** Spidersilk made me chew some of her wretched leaves. ** He shakes his head as if to clear it. ** I can't even feel it. ** The archer's lip twitches. ** Can't feel anything now that my tongue is numb. ** Ynderra mutters tinily, "I can..." She scoots nearer. "Um, well... Leetah said you wanted me to, well, you know?" Leetah folds her arms over her chest, watching. Strongbow nods, every motion and word gentle, elder's acceptance and comfort. ** Yes. ** Ynderra .oO (Mip. I was afraid he'd say that. Well, okay... here goes...) Ynderra sucks in a breath, and nods. "Alright... you settled? You might wanna lay down or something...?" Strongbow scoots forward and then lies back comfortably, obediently, shifting his weight a bit for more comfort and not fearing to do so now that the ache of the ankle is stifled. He nods when he is done moving, quiet. Ynderra bites her lip a bit, then settles herself, cross-legged, by the archer's knees. If she's going to do this, by Timmorn, especially in front of Leetah, she'd better do it right... she closes her eyes, and places her hands with their fingers spread, one on his foot, one just an inch or two above the swollen flesh. Strongbow winces, though he doesn't twitch; in a second he relaxes, Spidersilk's thoughtful (if nasty) leaves having deadened the pain. Ynderra concentrates. And sends her awareness _down_, and _in_, with a weak glow flickereing into life around her splayed fingers. Leetah leans very lightly against the wall of the den, watching with mild satisfaction. Strongbow watches as well, more comfortable aware of what's going on than closing his eyes and sinking into it. Ynderra, just having been healed from a boulder-sized headache and not that strong a sender to begin with, cannot be really felt to send much -- or perhaps she's specifically not trying to send. Tenaciously, she focuses on the task at hand, wincing a bit as the twisted muscle under the skin flashes into her consciousness completely. Strongbow watches, starting a bit as things change in his flesh. Rare that he's been fully aware, whether through wolfsong or comatose or exhaustion, for something being done, and not felt it only as pain or healing-magic. He listens without ears to his flesh cooperate with the healer, interested. But the angrily inflamed flesh is only a result of what's truly wrong, and not the heart of the problem, after all. And despite Ynderra's wishing it otherwise, she has to go deeper into her trance. It doesn't take long before she stills almost completely, with only the strain around her closed eyes to indicate when the break down the ankle bone reaches her senses -- nothing, outward, to indicate how the damage jars across her consciousness, like a crack of a falling branch across her own bones. The light around the maiden's hands gains some strength with her effort, and as she slides deeper into the trance, Ynderra-ness can be felt in the magic. She's not as confident a healer as Leetah -- though there's nevertheless a something there, a potential. Whether conscious or no, her power flows more strongly than her now-leaking trickles of nervousness might otherwise indicate. Leetah watches both healer and healed with a rather professional interest, seldom having the chance to watch someone else heal. The archer must be quite sedated or dulled by the leaves, for he makes no sign nor send of pain. The bones in his ankle, though not disoriented entirely from one another, are webbed through with cracks and stress fractures, each one easy to heal...but all together, rather tiring. Strongbow makes no indication of pain, though he gazes...almost as if hypnotized?...into the healer's light. Ynderra frowns vaguely, focusing in on the cracks and miniscule breaks. Ah, High Ones! She's never done this before, she realizes, but stubbornly, she attempts it, willing the webbed fractures to fuse back as they should be. Golden light, tinged with just a bit of green, begins to fill the den. Strongbow watches, smiling a bit...perhaps with pride? At the maiden's stubbornness. Leetah looks on quietly, shifting positions as she does. Gradually, it becomes difficult to tell which is stronger, the dulling of the leaves, or the flow of sparkling warmth that's working its way down through into the damaged bone. The archer can feel little ripples happening down there, odd little throbbings that suggest that if he had _not_ been given the leaves before, he might be feeling pain, now... Strongbow tilts his head a bit, then puts his head back on Moonshade's leathers, deciding with that new odd sensation...not to watch anymore. Ynderra's dark eyebrows knit together in effort and concentration. Do _this_, she orders the bone, part of her attention diverting as she tries to sense what her own, undamaged ankles feel like, so she can compare... Strongbow's eyes drift to Leetah. Suddenly, without the healing process to watch, he seems to feel a bit awkward. Ynderra gets what she thinks is a right sensation, and focuses in again, having a stern lecture with the fractured bone. Be whole, she orders it, as its owner has to do hunt and guard and run and, well, do Strongbow things. That thought nearly distracts her, and makes her magic pulse briefly in the wounded flesh before the bone -- perhaps not quite sure what she wants -- throbs with a 'melting' feeling. Ynderra has started to sweat a little, as putting out even a moderate amount of her healing strength threatens to make her headache return. Strongbow closes his eyes outright at that melty feeling, snapping back a wordless send of before it gets far. Leetah watches all, her thoughts straying over to help. Ynderra distractedly, and mostly unconsciously, sends a brief request for Strongbow to Be Still -- her thought threaded through with her magic, as it's foremost in her mind. Strongbow stills, eyes closed, breathing controlled to be as catchless and motionless as possible. In his mind he becomes the hunter, not in chase or stalk, but in wait-and-see mode. An odd hunt, this, with no prey involved -- but not truly a hunt, really. More like a submergence of senses in the activity of the surrounding forest, where the activity is nothing except the flowing magic and the sense of the maiden's mind behind it. Her emotions start becoming clearer, in that sensing; the cub's nervous, and tiring, and trying very hard not to 'intrude'. An unhealerish sentiment, that... Strongbow sighs very very softly, and opens his eyes to look at Leetah again. After a moment the brown gaze flicks to Ynderra, and with it comes open welcome. Do your work the way you have to do it, the archer's sending implores. Leetah frowns now, remembering something. She unfolds her arms, clasping her hands together. A few stubborn breaks remain, including the worst of the lot; the black-haired elf-girl winces slightly, at the sense of the longest and deepest of the cracks in the bone. At the sending, she starts, just a bit... Strongbow keeps his gaze on the healer at work, just in case she should look to him. His mind still a bit open, he refrains from sending anything, just waiting, welcoming whatever it takes for this particular healer's power to work with her best. Ynderra pauses -- not having really believed, before, that he wanted her to heal him. But the invitation in the sending can't be denied. With a sense of settling herself, she then continues -- and the glow of her hands flares a little brighter, as she reluctantly, at last, mentally links with her charge. Strongbow nods to himself, though his body hardly moves, and closes his eyes, the link on a level beyond even send-words enough. It's not a healing he's used to, but then, his stoic, stubborn self never really gets used to healing at all. Ynderra works on, and seems, almost, to flow into the bone herself, perhaps on the strength of her own magic, perhaps on what lingering wisps of berry-dream might remain in her head... it might almost be as if Strongbow's just stepped into a pool of Ynderra-ness, as if the sense of the girl could be stepped in like water, soaked up in the flesh like sunlight. Leetah shakes her head to clear it, as this particular healing hits perhaps a little too close to home. She turns, and ducks out of the den. Leetah has left. Ynderra does not notice Leetah's departure, as she... _flows_ into the remaining damage in the bone. The 'melting' feeling surges up again, stronger... Ynderra sucks in a breath as two separate sets of physical awarenesses flow together in her consciousness. Be _this_ way, she orders the bone. But, no, that's not quite right, his legs are longer, a little sturdier, so she has to extend that sense of self-shape to fit a taller and leaner frame. And at last... it gets the idea, even as her consciousness fills with the proper way for this particular ankle to be. And by extension, the rest of the body under her magic as well. The slightest smile, tainted with peace, flickers over Strongbow's face. The "soft side" of the archer is there, every bit as present as the stubborn, as the hunter, as the elder; choosing this healing for more than one person's pain, as much in want to look after the cub, to help her...as to have his bones whole, so that he can hunt, track, run, stand watch, and do Strongbow things. It's almost as an afterthought that the flesh around the ankle gives another odd little 'ripple' -- and then a sense of 'contraction', as it abruptly begins to return to its proper shape. Strongbow blinkblinks at that odd feeling, but makes no questions, knowing that the healer is now in her element--and doing her work the way she, individually, is meant to. Finally... nerve endings twisted out of shape, fired into rawness with pain, begin to report an 'all clear', a sense of 'this is right' to match the rest of the body. It's uncertain, perhaps, when the leaves' effects burned off -- but they must have, if sensation is returning to that flesh. And perhaps it's that reporting from an extra set of nerves that makes Ynderra blink her eyes open, glassily.... she's done. She thinks? The glow begins to fade. Strongbow winces as the pain, newly awakened, slowly fades into right-ness. As he feels, as Ynderra does, perhaps in the link, the done state of the healing, he sits, slowly, not moving his legs. Brown steady gaze on the healer, brown unruly hair standing a bit out for having been pressed flat as he lay there, strange glow in the aftermath of the healer's work between himself and the other, riding tenuous on the link. He seems, for a moment, about to send, and then doesn't, instead offering feeling, emotion, of gratitude, and pride. Ynderra with some effort pulls herself out of the link -- and frowns fuzzily, for just an instant, as her body readjusts to the set of awarenesses that go with being 'small and curved and delicate' as opposed to 'tall and lean'. She's broken into a sheen of sweat, and then, she smiles a little, giddily. Ynderra .oO (? ! Did it....!) Strongbow,somewhat wearified himself, nods approval. ** Rest, Healer. ** It's a gentle, welcoming tone, indicating no preference as to whether she lies down unconscoius where she sits, or goes to her den...just welcome for her to do as she thinks best, as is best. Ynderra mumbles, "I... think that's a good idea...." Her eyelids droop. Strongbow's soft smile turns wry. ** Yes. ** Ynderra feels her own muscles now informing her quite steadily of heaviness, of tiredness. Rest. Yes. Good idea... she topples over, in a strange kind of slow motion. Ynderra's eyes shut completely -- and within moments, she sleeps. A good honest sleep this time, not the dream-laced slumber of berryvisions. Strongbow smiles faintly, and rises, slowly, testing the weight on his ankle...which, for all its buzziness, holds him fine. He watches the healer sleep for a while, protective...and somewhere in the night, slips out, bow in hand, to watch, or hunt, or run, or do...Strongbow things. [End log.]