"Summoned by Song"

Log Date:
	3/1/02

Log Cast:
	Arnos, Wayfound

Log Intro:
	Ever since she can remember--and her memory is prodigious--Wayfound,
once of Willowholt and now at least in theory of Lostholt, has been hungry 
to see everything there is in the world around her, to learn, to understand
the patterns of life and existence. Something new to her, no matter how small
or seemingly insignificant, is to be treasured--because it adds to her 
understanding of the world.
	And ever since she can remember, Wayfound has always been taught by
her elders to beware of the Tall Ones: humans, five-fingered, round-eared,
who have always hunted and slain her kind and called them demons. Denied any
opportunity to approach these Others as a cubling, she has wondered ever 
since why this emnity has existed between elf and human... and whether it 
could somehow be altered so that both peoples could live in peace.
	Wandering alone in the wild for the last ten turns of the seasons,
the young she-elf has sought to learn that which she could never learn in
her home tribe--and among other things, she has periodically watched human
tribes from afar to seek opportunities to learn from them. To date, neither
the Hoan g'Tay Sho nor the Olbar have seemed safe enough to openly approach.
	But never has she conceived of a kind of human capable of building
great rafts that float upon the water, large enough to carry an entire Holt's
worth of Tall Ones in its belly. Or a kind of human who has never before 
seen the likes of _her_--and who, therefore, bears no emnity to elves that 
would drive her away. Wayfound has discovered the Vraeyans, a band of humans
from a distant land, stranded on the beach of the Vastdeep Water. Among 
their number is one called Arnos, who seems--at least when it comes to 
the ways of words--as facile as she at learning, and who has already begun 
to share words of his people's language with her.
	He has more to teach the young Wolfrider, though, and some of it
will come with the aid of song....

---------
From beneath an overhanging tree come the quiet strains of a male voice raised 
  in a slightly mournful melody. The words are entirely foreign, but the music 
  speaks to the emotions of war and rebellion and loves lost. The man who 
  sings them leans back against the tree's trunk, casually, eyes closed and a 
  strange instrument in his lap, not currently played.

Wayfound has never been a particularly heavy sleeper, even in the days wehn 
  she still dwelled among her tribe. Out in the wild on her own, she's long 
  accustomed to sleeping with both ears and one eye open, in case she needs to 
  change camps quickly. Fallberry, too, has been invaluable as a guard; one 
  thing to alert the bug, and all it takes is a tug from the Preserver's tiny 
  hand on her hair to goad her into wakefulness.
Tonight, though, even as she's starting to rouse up from her day's slumber, 
  it's to be greeted by an extremely bemused Preserver who informs her that 
  /givewords bigthing sing, have singthing!/
Curiosity flares. Once again bidding her wolf to keep his distance from the 
  strange Tall Ones camped by the thing that the human called Arnos has told 
  her is called a 'ship', the daughter of the Wolfbringer materializes out of 
  the gathering night. One moment, the stranded sailor is more or less alone 
  under the tree he's chosen; the next, there's a shadow at his side, and a 
  pair of ambergreen eyes glimmering lupine in the deepening dusk.

Being that his eyes are closed, and he is lost in his song, the brawny sailor 
  fails to notice the tiny shadow which is so aware of him. Arnos plucks idly 
  at the strings of the instrument in his lap, only here and there. It doesn't 
  look like that is how this instrument ought to be played, if one is able to 
  put all the details together to get an idea of how it IS to be played. It 
  just doesn't seem shaped to be comfortable this way. Plus, he's not actually 
  holding any melody with it. Just occasionally adding counterpoint.
     The song goes on, undisturbed. The shadow falling over him must simply 
  mean the sun sinking further down, or a cloud passing over the moon. He's 
  not sure just now which is in the sky.

_Timmorn's Blood!_ The oath invoking her tribe's long-dead forebear flits 
  across the she-elf's mind in a burst of wonder, for she'd had no idea that 
  humans could create instruments such as this. She had, in fact, only the 
  beginnings of familiarity with instruments that could make more than one 
  note at once; the Gliders had such things, she recalls. But never the 
  humans, not that she's seen. But _this_...!
Stunned, she simply listens for several measures, wishing she had a better 
  grasp of the strange humans' tongue so that she might better understand what 
  the man sings. But still... the melody tugs something within her stoic 
  heart. Wayfound recognizes a Howl for something lost when she hears one, and 
  on the strength of that, she is moved to join in. It is the barest breath of 
  additional sound to the human man's music, but it is there: an 
  under-the-breath wordless descant, high and soft, yet rough at the same time.

It is enough. With a faint curl of his lips, Arnos trails off, his eyes 
  opening to slits, gaze rising to take in the elf standing over him. ((You 
  have a lovely voice,)) he informs her, sitting up just a bit and readjusting 
  his Crwth in his lap. ((How long have you been standing there, Wayfound?))

What is it that makes a look of bewilderment flash for a moment across the 
  small female's eyes? Not the fact that she doesn't know most of Arnos' 
  words, to be sure. Wayfound's hungry mind leaps nimbly upon the words she 
  recognizes, notes the words she doesn't. Nor is it the fact that the human 
  has seen her; she meant him to. No, it's the tone of approval that goes with 
  the words she doesn't yet know, a tone the edgy young she-elf is not 
  accustomed to hearing from complete strangers, and she does not quite know 
  what to make of it.
And thus she defaults to ignoring it for now, grimly certain that sooner or 
  later surely this highly unusual Tall One and his compatriots will surely 
  start looking at her with the same bewilderment that she's experienced from 
  most of her own kind for most of her life. Instead, she says gruffly in her 
  own tongue, gesturing first at her ears and then at the instrument as well 
  as he who holds it, "I heard you and your song. I came to listen."

With appropriate accompanying gestures, as this seems to be your preferred 
  method of clarification, Arnos replies, (( Heard my song, did you? And I 
  supposed you came for a listen then? )) his smile growing a touch more 
  broad. He motions to a spot next to him on the blanket he's laid out. (( Sit 
  with me then? ))

She has all the fluid grace of a forest creature, and all the wariness of one 
  as well; yet, Wayfound still steps noiselessly forward, sinking down to one 
  knee at Arnos' side, not quite yet comfortable enough in a human's presence 
  to sit beside him. The gaze of those enormous ambergreen eyes of hers 
  flashes back and forth between crwth and sailor, and finally settles upon 
  the latter, piercingly intent and simultaneously absolutely awestruck. It is 
  the look of a being gazing at something she has never encountered before in 
  her life, and it leaks into her voice as well. "I did not know humans could 
  sing." Her shaggy pale head subtly shakes, for negation. Her fingertips -- 
  only four of them, on that small lean hand -- gesture to her temple for 
  'know', to Arnos for 'humans', to her mouth for 'sing'.

Flushing a bit under the intense gaze, Arnos ducks his head, a hand rubbing at 
  the back of his neck. (( It makes me nervous when people look at me like 
  that. I'm not a god or anything. )) Fingers pluck a few more idle notes from 
  the instrument in his lap, as he listens and watches carefullly your attempt 
  at communication. (( Aye,)) says he, (( Humans can sing. )) The hand 
  gestures are once again returned, as the words in his language are spoken.

She doesn't _appear_ at any rate, to be about to engage in acts of worship -- 
  but Wayfound notes the signs of discomfort, and immediately and deliberately 
  redirects her gaze to the instrument. She is not among her own tribe and 
  pack, but even a human with no knowledge of the Way apparently can grow 
  discomfited by too direct a stare. Still, though, he did not _seem_ to take 
  it as a challenge... and so Wayfound murmurs swiftly, apologetically, 
  "Forgive me. I did not mean to offend. You are the first human I have seen 
  who _sings_...!" Er. Well, he might not grasp that, might not he? Try 
  something a bit more straightforward. A dainty forefinger points at the 
  crwth. "What is this?"

(( Crwth. )) Arnos appears much more comfortable once the attention is off of 
  him. He even goes so far as the put the thing under his chin and pick up his 
  bow, drawing forth the beginning of a quick little melody, composed of two 
  and three note chords.
Putting the instrument back into his lap, he says again, (( Crwth. )) For a 
  moment the sailor is at a loss as to what to say next, then, (( Would you 
  like to try?)) Pointing at first you and then the instrument again.

"Cr....crwth," whispers Wayfound, under her breath, frowning critically at her 
  own pronunciation as she tastes the alien word. But even that cannot 
  disguise the surge of interest that animates her features, threatening to 
  dislodge the stoic face she presents to the world at large even when she's 
  not in the company of cratures that might unexpectedly decide to attack her 
  with large pointed sticks. "Yes," she almost blurts. Out of any other 
  creature, it might well be a blurt. "Show me, please...!"

[This scene was never finished, but is kept for posterity and to show the 
 initial stages of the friendship between Wayfound and her human soul-brother.
 End log!]