Log file from Cutter. 1/31/2000 10:39:52 PM Title: One Fish, Two Fish... Characters: Cutter, Suntop and Basalt Synopsis: Cutter and Suntop stumble upon Basalt who is out fishing and the mayhem ensues. NOTE: We never got the chance to finish this scene but, I think it's safe to assume that the trolls are no happier to see the elves after this one. East Bank of the Silver Run River To the north you see stark wooded area, thick clumps of trees standing, bare limbs heavy under the weight of snow. The tree line thins after about a hundred paces to the west and you see the bank of the Silver Run River. You stand carefully on the frozen ground and see huge chunks of ice flowing across the still moving water. Large rocks with sharp jagged edges reach out of the freezing water as though beckoning for warmth. Around them, you see that it appears the water has frozen and you think that perhaps you can walk out to the cold rocks. You awaken in the cold winter night to the sound of cracking and snow falling, perhaps from branches above. The lonely stump of one of the great trees rests, stately and dead, among the lush shade of its living peers. Angled from two sides to a peak just off of center, the tree was apparently hewn by axe. Suntop walks with his father, unconsciously trying to keep pace with the wolfchief's longer legs. Not much is said between the two as they walk along the river. Even the cold isn't as important as the news that was just received. The scent, as usual, is first - carried by a chance breeze in the calm winter night. Woodsmoke. And, for the acute of nose, fish... and another familiar scent, one associated with tunnels and, usually, headaches. Up ahead, where a smooth patch of snow-blanketed grass runs down to the river, a stocky figure sits by a small campfire. Cutter catches those scents and stops dead in his tracks, putting a staying hand out to keep Suntop from moving any further. His brow, already furrowed by worry, dips further as he catches troll scent. He starts to crouch warily just as Rainrunner, obviously not paying attention at all, and having a nosefull of snow comes barreling down the path and skids into Cutter's legs, knocking his bond off his feet with a low "Oof!!" as he lands heavily on his back in the snow. Basalt glances up from where he's tying something together, peers into the snowy night uncertainly. After a moment he shrugs one shoulder and returns to whatever delicate task is taking his attention. Suntop pauses just as the hand goes out, but he dives to try and catch Rainrunner before he knocks Cutter over again. Too late...and the mystic just receives a face full of snow for his efforts. Cutter scowls darkly at his bond after he pushes himself up onto his elbows and gives his head a shake to clear it. He glances toward the fire that's burning nearby and relaxes a bit as he notes that the troll seems to either not have noticed or didn't care about the noise. He glances to Suntop with a raised brow and sends quickly as he pushes himself to his feet and brushes the snow off of himself, **Are you alright..?** Basalt, down by the river, finishes whatever he was working so diligently on, and without standing pitches it toward the river. Distinctly odd to see a troll out in this season. Ordinarily, if there's one season Picknose's people aren't out, it's whitecold: but this one seems perfectly at ease. Suntop pushes himself out of the snow with a grimace. He was almost warm before...not anymore. He throws a quickly-made snowball at the wolf and frowns as he likewise brushes snow from his clothes. ** I'm fine... ** Cutter nods as he catches something flying toward the river from the troll's vicinity, **I wonder what Picky's people are doing out at this time of year..?** he sends before starting to edge his way around for a closer look. He pauses to give his bond a sharp glances and clearly reprimands the playful creature who ducks the snowball and then lowers his head as if shamed by his actions. Basalt has leaned back on the log and is peering up into the sky, his breath making tiny clouds in the light of the fire. As the elves approach, three shapes on the log by his side resolve themselves into fish. (Although how he's catching fish without spear or bow - well, who understands trolls?) Suntop looks over to the troll, his nose flaring slightly at the scent of fish. Mmm...and the water's too cold to go fishing in now...yet the troll has some. Maybe he could be convinced to part with them? Cutter looks this scene over and glances toward Suntop with a curious expression, **Wonder how he got those..** he muses as he straightens and prepares to step into the firelight, out of reach of troll weaponry.. just in case. Suntop actually grins as he backs into the shadow as his father steps forward. He's not usually mischeivous, but something seems to be spurring him on. Maybe he hit his head when he fell? But while the attention is on his father he goes to sneak behind the tree the troll leans against...perhaps to try and get a fish. Basalt still hasn't a clue that he's under observation. He glances away from the stars toward something held in one hand - a thin string - and peers out over the frozen river. Cutter steps into the flickering light, standing straight and proud, using every inch of his tallness for advantage. Might as well use what you've got right? "What brings you out of your tunnels during whitecold?" he asks as he regards the greenish visitor with an open expression. Suntop glances over as his father makes a rather impressive appearance. It is then that he reaches over to try and nab one of the fish... Basalt swings round and nearly falls backward off his log. "Fwhup," he says, then by kicking manages to regain his balance. Flushed slightly, he looks Cutter up and down. "THOUGHT I heard something." He doesn't notice one of his catch vanishing into the shadows behind him. The troll's voice is curiously scratchy and hoarse, though deeper even than the usual. As he has time to consider Cutter's actual words, he adds, "Er. I'm fishin', of course. Fine night like this." Cutter chuckles at Basalt's startlement, "Fishing? Why would you want to do that when there's other game to be had." A brow lifts as he watches his son's hand catch hold of one of the fish just before it zips out of sight. Well, at least there's a little of Bearclaw in him, guess he is part of the family after all. He fights the urge to laugh outright as he eyes the fish, "Looks like you've got a good catch.. two fish. Not bad." Basalt glances down at the two remaining fish. "Hm. That's odd..." He pokes around on either side of the log, even standing to see if he sat on it. Suntop waits patiently for Basalt to sit back down and for his attention to be elsewhere...so he can grab another fish...