From: owner-lostholt-l@murkworks.net on behalf of Deborah Hooker [deb@pobox.com] Sent: Friday, January 08, 1999 2:24 PM To: lostholt-l@murkworks.net Subject: [lostholt-l] [Log] Ynderra tries to help Cutter Den Tree You stand before another giant tree, this one just a bit smaller than the Father Tree. It looks sturdy enough, with great branches sprouting in all directions. There is a fallen limb lying against the tree, directly in front of you, and if you look closely enough you see the opening into the interior of the trunk behind this limb. The main path leads southwest towards the Father Tree and a much smaller one winds its way south through some bushes. Obvious exits: Main Holt Enter Den Tree Cutter ducks under the tree limb. Cutter has arrived. There is a sense about him, of something being out of place. This elf, who stands at Glider height, carries himself like a wolfrider. Moves like a wolfrider. -Smells- like a wolfrider. Hair the color of pale plainsgrass is long, draping his shoulders and ears in thick waves, save the portion at the crown of his head, tied into a chieftain's topknot. Gestures that begin as forceful and proud, the gestures of a leader, are translated into something graceful, due to the length of his limbs; expressions that were expressive before are now sometimes elegant. His clothing now is quite clearly Glider made: midnight blue, and white, complete with feathers, and almost-liquid movement in the cloth. The tunic opens, in a v-shape, the edge of the opening once lined with feathers that have now been torn and plucked away, the sleeves full, and already torn from snagging on limbs, here and there. The trousers are tight, following the line of long -- very long -- legs. NewMoon, however, is still strapped at his side. Ynderra smiles. "Well, hello there. Decide it was too cold up there?" She grins. [OOC] Ynderra idly notes that she knows that it's summertime. :) Cutter straightens up once he's ducked out of the den tree, and scratches his head. He casts a glance at the sky, then lets his hand fall. "I can't think any more. Thought I'd come down and take a walk, instead." Ynderra says "Ah. Mind if I walk with you? Or still wanting to be alone?" She's trying not to sound concerned, though she's not entirely succeeding. It seems for a moment that the wolfchief might insist on being alone again. The moment passes, however, and he shakes his head, saying, "You're welcome to walk with me, Ynderra." Ynderra smiles. "Thanks." She looks around. "Any particular destination, or just walking?" Cutter shakes his head. "Just walking." He turns back toward the main holt, and sets off. He does, too, make an effort not to outpace the smaller elf, but with those legs ... Ynderra follows quickly, not complaining at having to keep up. Cutter walks back toward the main holt. Cutter has left. You walk back toward the main holt. Behind the Father Tree(#650RAJ) As you walk around the Father Tree, you come upon a sight unexpected in a Wolfrider Holt. It is evident that Redlance has been putting to use the skills learned long ago in the Sun Village. A neatly tilled garden lies in front of you, with small green plants rising from the rich soil, and along the edges of the garden, taller plants carefully staked upright for support to their slender stalks. A tiny opening leads into the back of the Father Tree. Off to the north-east lies another large tree, small in comparison to the Father Tree, but quite large enough to house many elves. It is a hot summer morning. The father tree is quiet as elves and wolves alike seek to their dens. Contents: Cutter Obvious exits: Path Den Tree Woods Father Tree Around the Tree [OOC] Ynderra is willing to assume that we're walking as we talk, if you like, for ease of RP... [OOC] Cutter says, "Sure." Ynderra says "So, um..." Cutter prompts, "So, um, what?" Ynderra blinks, then smiles a bit sheepishly. "What have you been thinking? Or do you not want to talk about it any more either?" Cutter shrugs easily. "Lots of things, Ynderra. The holt, the tribe." There's a significant pause before he adds, "Suntop", to the list. Ynderra nods. "Come to any conclusions?" Cutter actually smiles, though the smile is wry. "Not yet. Not quite." Ynderra notes your smile, and says, "Should we be afraid?" She has settled into a good pace which seems to work well with your long strides without overtiring herself. Cutter's shoulders shift again. "You tell me," he answers. "Are you afraid? Of what I might do, or say or ... anything?" Ynderra chuckles quietly. "Really afraid? No. I trust you. Worried about you? Maybe a little." Cutter's chin lifts stubbornly. "There's nothing to be worried about, Ynderra." Ynderra smiles up at you. "When I say that sort of thing, people start looking for what's going to fall on them next." Ynderra says "Either that or they start looking for proof." Cutter doesn't, to his credit, look up, but rather looks down at her again. "That's because they know you and your tricks." There's another smile for you. "Keeps them on their toes." Ynderra looks mock-offended. "My tricks. Hmmmph. I am sweet and it's never my fault, anyway." She grins, then sobers slightly. "You don't have to carry the world yourself, you know." Cutter's smile fades away again. "Everyone says that, Ynderra, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm chieftain. If things go wrong, if the tribe's not happy, then there's something I'm not doing, something I should have done." Sigh. Ynderra says "I know...but just because you have the responsibility doesn't mean you have to do it alone. I know you've asked advice from us in the past. You just seem...more sure that it's all your fault. It's not that simple." She shakes her head. "Words don't quite work." She turns her head slightly to focus on where she is walking, and sends. ** ** Cutter ducks his head, attention shifting to the ground beneath his feet for a moment. Despite the simplicity of the words, apology still shadows the send. ** Thank you. ** He takes a breath and lifts his gaze again, then asks, "If it were Blaze, what would you have done?" Ynderra blinks, then smiles slightly. "I guess I opened myself up for that one." She ponders. Ynderra says "If Blaze made me feel like he'd rejected everything I stand for, you mean?" Her voice is gentle, no trace of sarcasm or humor now. Cutter didn't, and probably couldn't have, put such a fine point on what, exactly, Suntop had done, so the words come as some surprise, evidenced by the expression he now wears. It's a little stunned, his voice, when he says, "That's it. That's it exactly." Ynderra says "At first? I'd probably cry." She tilts her head slightly. "With any luck, I'd be able to see that feeling that way was seeing things only as extremes. Children make choices. Sometimes those choices aren't what we would have chosen. Sometimes their choices seem like they're calculated to hurt us. I'm sure I hurt Tyleet sometimes, but I never meant to. I just had to live my life. And Blaze has to live his." She pauses. "And Suntop his." Cutter considers that awhile, then his expression clouds and he shakes his head, continuing on through the trees as thoughts rumble through his mind again. What he settles on eventually, is, "Living his own life is one thing. Being careless with that life is another. I'm chieftain. My word is .. he should have listened." Cutter continues after a moment, "What happens if the round-ears catch him, Ynderra? As his sire, it's my duty to go and bring him back. As chieftain, the tribe goes where I go. So I risk the tribe, again, because he's being cub-stubborn?" Ynderra says "From what I heard, he relieved you of that duty, at least as his chieftain. A wolf can choose to leave the pack. And I'd say, as his sire, it may be your desire to save him if he needs it, but it's not your duty. You risk the tribe only if you refuse to give your child the choice you would give any other tribe member. No, it's not a happy choice. He may well regret it. But it is his choice." Cutter stops, and turns on Ynderra, blue fire flashing in his eyes. "What makes you think I'd have given any of you permission to go? What makes you think I'd risk a single one of you, or that I wouldn't rescue each of you alone, if I could? You are my /tribe/, Ynderra. My blood, my pack, my /family/. Family doesn't turn it's back on the rest." Ynderra stands firm, not challenging, but not backing down either. "A wolf can choose to leave the pack, whether the alpha likes it or not. It's coming back after such a decision that the alpha can tear his throat out for. Isn't that the Way?" She stares resolutely at your chest, refusing to meet your eyes to avoid challenge. "And there's a middle ground between turn your back on and suffocate. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt. Life hurts. That's often the Way. But in hurting yourself by refusing to see the middle ground, you're hurting the tribe." Her voice gets a bit softer, and she looks down just a little bit. "Besides, I don't like to see you hurt." Some of that bristling energy drains off, and the fire dims in Cutter's eyes. The threat of challenge has passed as he echoes, "Hurting the tribe." He's quiet awhile, then he sinks to a sitting position, over his heels, knees drawn up to his chest. "I was trying to protect him, and I hurt the rest." Sigh. "Maybe he was right." Ynderra stops for a long moment, then sits down next to you. "Perhaps. Or maybe he is in some ways much like his father, and prone to extremes sometimes. It must be hard, to have to choose between your tribe and your child. I couldn't do it." Ynderra tentatively reaches a hand out to rest on your arm, her touch a soothing healer's touch. Ynderra says, quietly, "Being a chieftain and being a sire are alike sometimes, but they're not the same. A chieftain must control, for the good of the tribe. A sire must let go, eventually." Cutter sighs again, letting his eyes close and his head bow. Sorrow creeps into every line of his posture, and is reflected in the send to the point of pain, as words are too hard to use. ** I let him go, once, Ynderra. He chose to stay with Savah and the Sunfolk, and at the time .. I thought it was a good choice. But he's been back with us for such a little time, and after being in the Snake's hands ... I thought I could keep him safe. ** Ynderra nods. ** All of us want to keep our children safe. But if Bearclaw had insisted on keeping you safe, would you have ever learned anything? ** She cocks her head slightly, being as gentle as she can about a healing which is never painless. And as quickly as it began, emotion is clamped off again. Cutter pulls his arm away from your touch, and rises to his feet again. "Bearclaw. Don't talk to me about him." He sets off another time. Ynderra curses to herself under her breath, and then stands, running for a moment to catch up with you, and then setting her pace again before she even tries to send. ** I'm sorry. ** Her send is as much emotion as words. Slight, the nod of acknowlegement. "I appreciate your company, Ynderra, but I think I'd like to walk alone, now." Ynderra sighs, though she continues to walk with you for a long moment. She takes a deep breath, and sends. ** So, as my chieftain, you are asking me to shirk my duty? ** Cutter glances down sidelong at you. "What duty?" Ynderra says, out loud now, "I am a healer. The health of my chieftain is my responsibility anytime I can do something about it, even if I am sometimes more clumsy and less skilled than I should be." Again he stops and turns to face you. "How am I not healthy, Ynderra? I have no wounds, no sickness, I eat and sleep like the rest of the tribe. You can't heal my thoughts. That's something I have to do." Ynderra says, looking up at you, her expression gentle with a touch of sadness, "Oh, and I wasn't helping at all, before I accidentally poked you in an unhealed wound with my words? Tell me that I am doing no good, and I will leave you alone as you ask. Or order me to shirk my duty. Otherwise I must do what I think is right." It's another long stretch of silence before Cutter admits, "You were helping." Breath. "And if I need ... want," he amends, "more of that type of healing, I'll ask. You or Leetah. Is that good enough?" Ynderra looks down. "Leetah is more skilled, I know, but I had to try. I am sorry if I did more damage than I helped." She turns to head back to the holt, without quite answering your question. "Bearclaw," Cutter says to your back. "That was the wound, Ynderra. It's ... I'm working on it. Just so you know." Then he, too, turns away from the holt, and continues on into the trees. Ynderra turns back at your words, nodding once. She watches you leave, standing there for quite some time before finally turning back to the walk back to the holt.