Log Date: 2/16/96 Log Intro: Once more safely back in his Holt, the archer Strongbow is nevertheless still disturbed over his experiences in Doreel's grove. The shared realization that he and Rillwhisper know one another's soulnames -- and indeed, always have, without knowing it before -- has eased his mind somewhat, but not enough to soothe other troublings in this thoughts. And the archer goes to share these with his chieftain..... [NOTE: This log is from Strongbow's point of view.] --------------------------------------------------------------------- Lost Holt Clearing The land of the Abode surrounds you. Here is where the elves of Lost Holt Gather for tribe councils, howls and receiving visitors from other tribes. This large clearing is fringed by slender saplings that have sprung up after the fire so many turns ago. The ground is packed in tightly and covered with twigs and some fallen branches. In the center there lies a stone ring. It lies unlit now and filled with rocks and leaves as the silky summertime heat brings warmth to the holt. There are many roots to sit on as well as one particularly large branch that may serve to seat more than a few elves. Off to the north you see the massive Father Tree, home to many of the elves of Lost Holt. The shadows lengthen as the daystar slowly approaches the horizon. The holt slowly comes to life as elves wander the holt paths. Contents: Cutter Skywise(#2945PBJXce) Fallberry Willowholt Camp(#6874AJae) Denning Tree Obvious exits: Path Hill Approach to the Father Tree Strongbow slips through the trees and drops onto the path, looking only a little bit too lean. He sends a wordless nod at Cutter and a greeting at Skywise. Skywise squeezes Cutter's arm, grinning faintly. Cutter chuckles and nods at Skywise. "Let's hope so." Then he returns Strongbow's nod. "Archer. You're better rested now, eh?" Strongbow nods once, eyes a bit lit for a moment, glimmery, then dark. You locksend ** You would hear... ** to Cutter. Strongbow casts a look at Cutter, then slips softly toward the fire ring. Skywise watches Strongbow move off, half-grin half-serious. Cutter says "I, uhm.. right." Cutter steps after the archer. Strongbow looks into the stone ring, gaze dark. After a moment, he turns, looking searchingly at his chieftain. Woodhawk has arrived. Woodhawk walks over from the Father Tree. Cutter is stopped by the look, eyebrows rising faintly, and then he continues on, to sit. "What's weighing on you so heavily, archer?" Woodawk is given a slight nod. Skywise sits there, watching Cutter, watching Strongbow. He gives Woodhawk a quick nod and friendly look. Woodhawk steps towards the Willowholt tents, earning a greeting from Fallberry, who flitflitflits in greeting, and he blinks to see the Lostholt elves here. But he nods evenly to Cutter. "This a tribe matter?" he asks, politely. Strongbow rolls his shoulders, long muscles tensing in his neck. ** Long journey. ** Fallberry flits cheerily to Woodhawk's hair, chattering questions about 'sunnygreen highthing', and the firestarter smiles a trifle at it, and nods affably to Skywise while offering to the little group at large, "Anything I can contribute?" Cutter grins faintly. "More the beginning of a long set of tales, I think. But I'm not certain.." Skywise crosses his arms behind his head and leans on the ground to make himself comfortable. Skywise grins and sits back, unhelpful. Cutter looks at his tribe's archer, curiously. "Your tale, Strongbow. You decide whether you tell it best alone or with help." Strongbow crouches with a sent near-growl, then sits, shaking his head. ** Telling the tribe was for Howl, ** he points out. Cutter locksends ** The tale's to be shared between you and I then? For now.. ** Woodhawk turns, to rummage through the Willowholt supplies, and nods to Strongbow, while murmuring to the curious Preserver, "Rillwhisper needs food." Skywise drifts off to sleep. You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow is solemn. ** Some of it...better not to Howl. ** Cutter nods faintly. Cutter locksends ** We'll Howl another night. ** Strongbow looks darkly at his chief, then distantly at the trees. Woodhawk finds a few arrowheads, nods in satisfaction, and turns to pluck up his bow. "Going to hunt," he reports. "Oh, Cutter, by the way... found another stranger. Dawnmist. She tracked us here. Seems harmless; she's got a wounded arm. Told her she should tell you all she's here." Cutter nods faintly again, this time at Woodhawk. "We'll, uhm, talk to her.." and does his best to follow Strongbow's gaze. You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow is silent for a long time, though on the edge of sending something. ** Moonshade ran off, ** he offers, at last. ** Some time...seasons? ago. ** His inability to grasp the amount of time for some reason disturbs him. You sense in a locksend, Cutter nods, again faintly. ** Seasons.. while you were at the Willowholt, or so I'm told. ** Woodhawk picks up Fallberry, and the Preserver flits to his shoulder. Woodhawk, thinking to himself that he ought to let the chieftain and the archer discuss things in peace, then slips off into the trees, muttering to the bug, "Ravvit, for the chieftess. C'mon, Fallberry." Woodhawk climbs carefully up the hill that overlooks the river. Woodhawk has left. Strongbow shakes his head once. You sense in a locksend, Cutter attempts to follow, through haziness and all. ** The track? What track? Moonshade's? ** You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow negates. ** Had been there seasons before. ** He considers. ** She went...we went...after. After her. ** There's something fuzzy about his recollection. ** Track was bad... ** You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow affirms. Finally, bluntly, he puts it: ** We lost that trail. Found something else. ** Cutter quirks an eyebrow upward again. ** What? ** Strongbow closes his eyes. ** Lost her trail. Didn't know it. ** In his sending, the forest -- a strange one -- unfolds before him. It seems a bit sparkling, almost like the Grove holt's preserverlands, at first; the sparkle is duller, though, dew on spiderwebs. Cutter's eyes close as well, though his chin tips up, 'watching' as it were. In the archer's sending, the forest is hard to fight through, and oddly quiet. He and the Willowholt chieftess make their way through, having scented something...the webbing grows thicker. Perhaps, the archer imagines he thinks, it is near Grove after all; perhaps his mate fled there for comfort...the picture falters, and Strongbow returns to plain sending, forcedly clear. ** Spiders. There were eight-legs there, as big as Rillwhisper. ** Cutter's eyes crack open again, and he -looks- at Strongbow's profile, then at the stone ring himself. ** As big as Rillwhisper? ** he echoes. "How? I mean, who?" And an idea makes him frown, as he looks up again. "Not the snake..?" Strongbow snorts. His sending curls, bitter. ** Not so clever. ** An image, bent by tangled memories, collects itself; tall and possessed of odd grace, near a High One, but addled, the face of an ancient elf. ** Doreel, ** the archer provides, without color. ** He was making some paradise...the spiders held it fast from the world. ** Soulful-Eyed Wolf Cub> Rillwhisper stirs, sleepily. Rillwhisper yawns, rubbing her eyes, as she wanders down the path. Rillwhisper has arrived. Rillwhisper walks over from the Father Tree. Cutter's eyes narrow a bit. ** Doreel. But why? That was the scent you found? The spiders? ** Strongbow sends, or begins to, eyes closed, seated by the fire ring. ** Wrapped... ** An image begins to unfold in his mind, attention on his sending. In the memory, he and the Willowholt chieftess fight those spiders -- not well enough. Rillwhisper pauses, coming to a slow stop, as she comes in on the end of Strongbow's sending. A few blinks, and her gaze shifts from sleepy to more alert. Cutter's gaze shifts away from the archer, to look directly at Rillwhisper as he sends. ** Fighting. To.. protect this world that 'Doreel' wanted? Or to hurt you? ** Rillwhisper looks from Strongbow to Cutter and back again, and says softly, "Where am I coming in on this? Give me a hand in, cousins -- my head's still mush." Strongbow sends, quietly, ** The spiders? ** His answer, unworded, is unsure, unclear. He remembers little of reality after that...memories swirl in his recollections, and he fights slightly, even now, to grasp the right one. ** Like a preserver cocoon, but poisoned... ** He opens his eyes, searching for the source of the voice he knows. ** You saw, ** he states as much as asks. You locksend to Rillwhisper, Strongbow adds vague greeting to that comment. ** He should know. ** Rillwhisper locksends ** The spiders when, brother? When we came into the forest the first time, or when we left? ** Strongbow scowls down at the firepit, then gets to his feet, pacing. ** At first. ** Rillwhisper exhales, and nods quietly. "What can I add? I remember... wanting to take a shortcut. Trails change, between Holts...." Her green gaze settles on Cutter, earnestly. "Sunruff didn't like it. We didn't, either, once we started seeing the webbings." Strongbow shakes his head, letting Rillwhisper tell it, glowering at the hazy memories. Rillwhisper glances at Strongbow, thinking, then adds to Cutter, "The spiders came quickly." Cutter asks again, "But -why?-" Rillwhisper settles, carefully, by the Willowholt tents, looking slightly dizzy till she sits down. "Why the spiders?" She sighs. "Doreel... thought they were Preservers. At least, he called them that." Rillwhisper says solemnly, bluntly, "I tried. Couldn't get out of the spidertrees without a weapon, and besides..." She lifts her gaze to the glowering archer, and smiles, faintly. "Had to get him free." Cutter says "And you couldn't leave? Once you saw that he was mad?" Rillwhisper finishes with a sigh, "Well, that was obvious. He thought I was someone named Tasheya for a time, and before that, he thought I was a human. And he sent to elves that weren't there." Rillwhisper goes on, musingly, gaze shifting and going a bit distant, "As to _why_.... I remember him talking about... his mother. She told him stories about the place where the High Ones came from. He was trying to... make it here. Yes." More sure now, she looks up again. "He called his grove 'home', spoke of it as the one true home... at least until we sent to him of the Palace." Cutter shakes his head. "Then he was mind-sick." Rillwhisper half-smiles. "I wasn't very thrilled with them either, Cutter. But Doreel called his spiders Preservers. I think he thought they _were_ Preservers. He even still called them that after he saw Fallberry." Cutter snorts. "Preservers. As big as you, chieftess? There's something I wouldn't look forward to seeing." Strongbow shakes his head, breaking from recollections of tangled memories. He sends a grumbled assent. Rillwhisper allows, "I know this is scattered of me, Cutter... should I tell it clearer?" Cutter shakes his head. "Tell it the way it's easiest. We can piece it together later." Cutter holds a hand up. "Helpers. There were more there than this elf and spiders?" Rillwhisper draws her arms around one knee, and wrinkles her nose in thought. "I'll try.. hrf. What more? Doreel's got magic, to be sure. Heals. Shapes trees. I think one of his helpers said he used to fly, too. He might be out of his head, but he certainly has enough magic to be the son of High Ones..." Rillwhisper blinks, then nods, firmly. "Yes. Three of them that I saw, Lar, Lira, and Lir. They looked like... shrunken trolls, I guess is the best way to say. Lira was going to have young." She offers a sending, of a tiny female at her side, obviously shy, but curious. Strongbow shakes his head. ** Like trolls, smaller. Like troll-cubs, maybe, but grown. ** Cutter blinks. "Grown troll-cubs?" Strongbow looks at Rillwhisper with a shrug. ** Creatures like trolls, smaller, ** he sends, in deference to Rillwhisper's description. Cutter shakes his head a bit, then nods. " All right. Still. Doreel. Three.. trolls. And spiders. And then what?" Rillwhisper says "No other creatures, of two legs or eight." Strongbow looks off into the trees. ** No hunting. Nothing. ** Cutter says "And he .. they.. kept you there." Rillwhisper sighs, softly. "I remember... they found me first. Doreel thought I was a human. Then, when I sent, he thought I was someone called Tasheya. Got him to heal me, at last, and he realized I was neither a Tall One nor this other of his... I told him I appreciated the healing, and offered to do what I could in return. But Strongbow and I had to get to Grove, to look for Moonshade." Strongbow nods once. ** Fighting through the spiders would only have... ** His memory ducks him, swirling. ** Wrapped again. ** Rillwhisper's gaze shifts to the archer again, as she goes on, "Doreel swore Strongbow was dead. We were apparently not the first elves to enter the spider woods. But from what Doreel said, we were the first to actually get in to where Doreel and the small trolls were." Cutter looks more confused, rather than less. "You could still send, though." It's a question, and a statement. More like a request for verification. "While you were wrapped. The Willowholt.. when they came here looking for you, chieftess, said they were having dreams." Strongbow points out, ** Distant. And the black venom... ** Rillwhisper nods quietly. "I did send. At least, after I got out of the spider wrapstuff. Sent as hard as I could. If I did while I was still wrapped... I don't remember. Woodhawk and Trollkiller say I reached them." Rillwhisper says "Strongbow must have gotten to Moonshade, too... she came looking." Strongbow shakes his head. ** The cub, I think. ** Cutter blinks at that, full gaze on Strongbow. "Cub?" Rillwhisper abruptly giggles, but gently. "The wolf-cub. You should name your new bond, archer." Strongbow almost chuckles, in sending. ** Brought Moonshade... ** He trails off and gives Rillwhisper a level look. ** Not yet. ** Cutter ohs, and grins sheepishly. "I thought.." Glancing from archer to chieftess and back again, he shakes his head. "Nevermind what I thought." Rillwhisper looks blankly at Cutter, obviously not comprehending. At least only for a moment. Then she turns quite delicately pink, and murmurs huskily, "_Cutter_!" Strongbow arches a brow, the slightest squint of a smile tugging at his mouth for a moment; it is fleeting, though, and when it passes, a grim, almost wistful look takes its place. The archer studies the fire pit, carefully not looking at Rillwhisper. Strongbow points out, ** Hardly. ** There's a bit of affection in it, and other things, less hinted at. Cutter chuckles. "Just a thought. It's gone now." Strongbow snorts. Cutter laughs even harder at that. Strongbow looks unamused and paces a bit farther from the fire ring, looking off into the woods. ** Need a bow, ** he growls. Rillwhisper glances down at herself, remembering an earlier conversation with Cutter -- in Sorrow's End -- and murmurs, "No, no cub yet..." Then, more loudly: "We both lost our weapons in the spider wood, cousin. His bow, mine; my dagger. My flute, too. And... my wolf." Cutter ehs? "Where's yours?" Cutter's grin fades abruptly. "Redlance can shape another for you. Both. I imagine." Strongbow turns abruptly. ** Need a _Howl._ ** His gaze is dark, fixed on his chief. Cutter's attention meets the archer's and he nods, once. "There will -be- a Howl." Strongbow adds, in the same tone as Cutter's affirmation, ** Soon. ** Rillwhisper considers, saying softly, "A Howl... would be good.... the tribe needs to know we're safe, though..." Cutter echoes, ** Soon. ** Rillwhisper sits back a bit, smiling wearily. Cutter nods then at Rillwhisper. "Soon," he repeats. "We'll see you off before Whitecold." Strongbow scowls at that, and turns again, staring into the woods. You sense in a locksend, Cutter sends, with a trace of frustration, ** What will make you -happy-, archer? ** Rillwhisper glances between the two elves, and rises. Rillwhisper locksends ** .....? ** Strongbow turns again, expression suddenly quite different. He looks at Cutter, for a moment confusedly, and then more pained; he lifts his gaze to Rillwhisper, brow furrowing. After a long moment, he offers, ** Been... tangled...too much. ** Strongbow looks a bit more pained; that's not clear. Not quite right. You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow sighs a bit, and locks his sending to you, conscious thought that Rillwhisper doesn't need to hear this bit. ** Aye, you did fine without me. ** Cutter sends hopefully, ** Things will clear up again, now that you're home. ** Rillwhisper glances at Cutter, then, taking her cue from him, offers gently, ** Can we help? ** Cutter's brow creases faintly, and he climbs to his feet as well. "Howl. We'll howl." You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow sends, almost, but thinks better of it, fading off. You sense in a locksend, Cutter answers awkwardly, ** We lived without you, archer. -I- lived without you. But you were missed. Don't dare to think otherwise. ** Rillwhisper flashes a grin to Cutter. "Now?" The archer's gaze follows his chief's, eyes narrowing slightly. You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow shakes that off. It wasn't what he meant. Pointedly, a bit jabbing, he asks, ** Do I _need_ a bow? ** You sense in a locksend, Cutter's return is stubborn, after a fashion. ** Can't imagine you without one. ** It's a double-edged meaning. Rillwhisper inclines her head to Cutter, and glances past him, to Strongbow, waiting quietly. Cutter's gaze returns, however, to the archer, and the grin fades again, even as he squares his shoulders. Cutter chuckles quietly. ** Not now. There are elves off hunting now, who would chatter at me for days, if they missed their chance to make noise. ** He flashes a grin at Rillwhisper. ** Next moons' rise, I think. ** The archer's eyes flash glitteringly, then darken. You locksend to Cutter, Strongbow's comment to that is just as stubborn, though no challenge. ** Wanted here, aye. Needed? Not for the bow. ** Cutter shakes his head just slightly. Cutter locksends ** Not for your bow. For the elf that knows the bow. And knows the Way. And reminds a chief when he's gone too far down one path, and ignored the other. ** Rillwhisper steps back a bit, as if thinking to let Strongbow's chief handle this -- Cutter's territory, after all. You sense in a locksend, Cutter's next is pointed: ** No matter what's happened, Strongbow, you are still my tribe, and kin. And there's not a piece of that, or you, that I'm willing to just.. give up. Not without fighting for it, first. ** Strongbow glowers long at his chief, but, in a moment, turns first his head aside, then his stance. He shakes his head, and sends, nearly amused, ** Next moons' rise, then. ** Strongbow gives a swift look back at Cutter, expression unchanged, still bemused. You locksend ** I expect no less. ** to Cutter. Cutter grins again. "Aye. Next moons' rise." Rillwhisper chuckles very lowly, as she slips quietly towards the tents. A Howl, then. She'll have to get something resembling real leathers, she thinks. Rillwhisper glances back over her shoulder at the other two elves, to insure that her exit is quiet, then she steps into the camp. Rillwhisper ventures into the Willowholt Camp. Rillwhisper has left. Strongbow shakes his head slightly, smile still twitching at the corner of his mouth. ** Hunt before then? ** The image of fresh meat at a Howl tinges his send, pleasantly, a bit longingly. Cutter grins. "You want to lead it?" Strongbow narrows his eyes a bit. ** Hunt? ** He shrugs, indifferent. ** Not Howl. ** In the Willowholt Camp, Rillwhisper, head pillowed down on the furs now, smiles tiredly towards Strongbow, and doesn't voice her thought that the archer has, apparently, gotten his strength back more quickly than she. Cutter shakes his head. "The Hunt." Strongbow thinks on it, and, after that moment's thought, nods, once. ** I'll rouse Redlance into shaping a bow. ** He rolls his shoulders and offers, ** Lead hunt on foot. ** Doubtless that he'll do it, he nevertheless finds it ironic. Rillwhisper locksends ** Ride with Moonshade? ** Cutter says "You won't be alone." Strongbow startles slightly. ** With Moonshade, ** he states, almost as if repeating. In the Willowholt Camp, Rillwhisper smiles drowsily, keeping lying down. Strongbow shakes his head slightly, slipping into the trees. ** Missed it, ** he sends, whether about hunting or the holt itself, not sure. You sense in a locksend, Rillwhisper smiles after you. Whether in sending, or out, or both, difficult to say. [End log.]