A.S. Korra'ti
From:	Jessica Orr [jrorr@exis.net]
Sent:	Tuesday, July 01, 1997 3:16 PM
To:	dewshine@murkworks.net
Subject:	Treestump/Dewshine log - 6/29/1997
Log Date: June 29, 1997
Log Summerary: A few nights before Treestump had been speaking with Pike and
had somehow allowed the Howlkeeper to persuade him into eating dreamberries
with him, uncharacteristically getting drunk enough to be sick and stain the
furs he shares with Clearbrook.  Hoping to make amends, he approaches his
daughter Dewshine in hopes of borrowing some from her while he cleans the
others. But Ember's recent sending, as well as the knowledge that Dewshine
wishes to go with Dart and the others into Blue Mountain after Suntop and
Rayek, who are held captive by Winnowill, despite that the Black Snake holds
the knowledge of her soulname, drags up old worries that the grizzled elder
had hoped to keep buried..

<LOG START>
                                                                        
>From outside the den, you hear a faint tap-tap-tap of knuckles rapping on
the wood surrounding the entrance to your den. After a moment's pause,
Treestump's familiar gruff sending flickers in, softly in case you might
still be asleep. ** Pretty cub..? ** Even after so long, he -still- calls
you that.

You sense in a locksend, Dewshine looks up, her sleepy send returning.
**Father?** then smiles, sitting up. * Come in. * She was dozing.

You look up and spot an opening on a branch, far up above from where you
stand. You reach out and grab hold of a branch and pull yourself up, careful
to keep your balance and step into Scouter and Dewshine's den.

Scouter and Dewshine's Den(#3844RA)
A small cozy little hollow, worked from the living tree with only the magic
touch that Redlance can give its a small roughly natural room. Small nitches
here and there in the wall provide ample places to store things in, and a
thick pile of hides create a sung warm bed for the cold seasons.
Contents:
Dewshine
Trollhammer's Hide
Obvious exits:
Out

Dewshine brushes some hair out of her face. She looks sleepy, and younger
then she is. She smiles.

Treestump slips into the den, carefully in case of anything placed by the
den-door that he might accidently step on, glancing up at you before a smile
forms on his face. ** Dewshine.. ** he starts, then pauses, looking at you.
** Did I wake you up? **

[Dewshine]
        Short wavy hair, bright white-gold, tops this maiden's frame, with
long delicate eartips, peeking out of the mass of hair. Her gentle blue eyes
smile softly at you, ringed by delicate lashes. She wears a dark brown
shirt, tied up the front with leather lacings. The arms are made of a
lighter brown material, almost tight, and the collor is rimmed with tuffs of
white fur, resembling nothing so much as feathers. Her skirt is of the same
dark brown, starting low on her waist, baring her stomache, and delibratly
looking torn and raggity. Long leather boots cover her feet, with a long
brightmetal knife strapped to her leg, reaching from her ankle, with the
pommel ending just below her knee. She senses your presense, and turns to
you, her rosebud lips smiling softly at you.
Carrying:
Redpaw
Bright-Metal Knife

Dewshine yawns, then shakes her head. ** Just daydreaming, Father. ** She
grins faintly. ** How are you doing? ** as she moves her feet in, making room.
[Dewshine looked at you.]

[Treestump]
        Standing before you is a burly male elf. Very blonde, almost to the
point of yellow, curly hair sits upon a squarish head. Elvishly pointed ears
peek out, large, but with a certain regalty to their shape. Blueish eyes
peek out, with tiny 'crow's feet' beginning to show at the edges, marking
his age,and is surrounded by a thick beard of blonde hair. Treestump is
aptly named, powerfully built with strong limbs, and stands about three and
a half feet tall.
        His clothing is plain colored, an open-shirt tunic made of animal
skin. Judging by the texture and shagginess of the fur, it could be
bearskin. A thick, leather belt wraps around his waist, with a troll-forged
metal belt buckle. Form-fitting leggings made of leather billow out slightly
and disappear inside travel-worn boots made of leather and trimmed with
thick, animal fur.
Carrying:
Axe(#2619)

Treestump chuckles, reaching up to brush aside an unruly yellow curl from
his face, "Well enough, my dear, considering all the excitement around the
Holt lately," he murmurs in reply. He leans against the frame of the
den-door slightly, crossing his arms over his chest habitually. "I just came
in to ask.." Is that the tips of his ears turning red? "Do you have any
spare furs, cubling? You see,  I was talking with Pike and.." He manages a
ghost of a smirk. "Well, one thing led to another and despite my age, I have
yet to gain his tolerance.." Yes, his ears are turning red!

Dewshine blinks, looking up at her father. Her lips twitch. They twitch
again. "Uhm. Certainly. " she looks around, then under her own fur. A giggle
comes from under there, quickly muffled. And no, Scouter isn't under there.

Treestump bites his lip, averting his eyes to look towards one of the wall
niches, trying to keep the blush from his face. "Don't you dare laugh, cub!"
He mutters, flicking his gaze towards her with an embarrassed half-grin.
"You wouldn't laugh if you had to listen to Clearbrook's lecture all through
it all..!"

Dewshine does laugh at this point.... "Which is why you need the furs....?"
blue eyes twinkling.

In response, Treestump's cheeks flush red. "Um, yes." He scratches the back
of his neck absently, not meeting his daughter's eyes.

Dewshine chuckles. "Poor father... " she says, teasing lightly. She stands
up, and goes to a pile.

Treestump hehs softly, looking up to watch her as she moves around the den.
"I'll bring them back to you soon, pret-.. Dewshine," he  adds. "I.. just
need to wash the ones that we have in our den."

Dewshine smiles as she brings over an armful. "It is no problem. " she says
with a tinkle at the name. "I'm sure me and Scouter will  be warm enough."

Treestump offers a lopsided smile in return, stand up straight again. His
eyebrows lift up slightly at the comment about Scouter, and the sides of his
mouth quirk slightly. "Aye, I sure you will," he teases gently before
smiling again. "How /are/ you?" he asks with a trace of worry - Ember's
sending a few days ago had caused old worries that he had hoped to forget about.

Dewshine frowns slightly, eyes darkening some. "I am alright, though I worry..."

Treestump nods solemnly, looking her over with silent protectiveness. "Will
you be all right, pretty cub?" he asks softly, unconciously calling her his
fond nickname of her early youth.

Dewshine nods, "I think so.... " she rubs at her nose. "Has anyone heard
anything about Suntop?" The cub she watched grow up.

Treestump's mouth sets in a grim line as he shakes his head, "Not that I've
heard of, no.." His eyebrows raise fractionally, almost too slight to be
seen. So brave, he marvels silently as he reaches out to touch her cheek,
extending with comfort, before lowering his arms to take the armful of furs
from her with a defeated sigh. "Hopefully we'll hear soon, though."

Dewshine offers up an almost smile "I hope so..... Anyone in Her hands... "
she trails off, and hugs herself.

Treestump nods slightly, his blue eyes searching her face, "Aye.." He hefts
his armload up slightly for a better grip. He watches her for a moment,
restraining the insane urge to gather her, Clearbrook, Scouter, and the rest
into his arms and take them somewhere safe from the Black Snake's poison.
Instead, he murmurs softly, "We'll find him, pretty cub. The Snake won't
hold him for long."

Dewshine swallows, and briefly closes her eyes, "No, she won't. When is
Dart, and the oothers going?" She was one who did express interest in going
with them, to the Mountain.

Treestump's eyebrows furrow, "Soon. Hopefully. We can't wait much longer.."
And you're not going, its too dangerous! He wants to add, but keeps his
mouth shut, allowing only the slightest hints of disapproval to show on his
face.

Dewshine looks up, then says, half defiantly, "I know that .... place, well,
Father. How could I not help?"

Treestump hesitates before answering carefully. "Pretty cub... _Dewshine_.."
he corrects himself too late. "Its.. too dangerous for you to go.. the
others know it well too.." He pauses, trying to sort his thoughts enough to
tread these shaky waters. "I.. don't want you in that.. place.. with Her."
His cheeks start to redden - with embarrassment or anger, its hard to tell.
"Its dangerous enough.. even moreso.."

Dewshine bites her lip, "I can't leave anyone "unspoke, cub" in Her grip....
and they will need all the help that they can get..."

Treestump's eyebrows lift and he nods numbly. His eyes glance away, then
down at the furs in his arms. "Well.. I'd best take these to Clearbrook.."
he mumbles quietly, looking up at Dewshine. "Take care of yourself,
Dewshine." Awkwardly, he starts to climb out of the den with his arms full,
sending ** I.. Thank you, pretty cub.. ** before stepping out.