Log file from Aroree. 2-7-01
Werein Aroree returns to the Mountain at Winnowill's summons, and does not like what she finds.
Players: Aroree, Tsoran, Zara, Winnowill and Zirek

Sky Above Blue Mountain
The top of Blue Mountain is shrouded in clouds, the circling hawks mere specks. Below are the meadows surrounding the Mountain, and a short distance away the huts of the Hoan village. The brightness of noon fills the cool autumn skies.
Contents:
Tsoran

[To set the scene, Tsoran went to Lostholt to fetch Aroree, for the entire flight back he does his silent and mysterious routine]

Aroree does not regret the lack of conversation... riding the wind it is hard to converse except in sending, and sending she is not very fond of any more... too revealing a mode of comunication. So she keeps the silence until the Mountain draws nearer and she cannot help asking over the whistling breeze "What is this about?"

Tsoran glances down at the unrolling vista below, tilting Darkwing to the side for the purpose. Righting the bondbird again, he glances at Aroree over his shoulder. ** Your... special skills are required at the Mountain, my sister Chosen. ** Darkwing cries out in greeting to the other great hawks circling the Mountain.

Tsoran looked at you

Aroree frowns, not liking the sound of that "Which special skills?" having the sinking suspicion you don't mean a new Chosen to train.

Tsoran smiles faintly. ** Why don't you join me for a meal and some rest first, and I'll fill you in? **
Tsoran flies down to the Aerie.
Tsoran has left.

You fly down to the Aerie.
Aerie
At the very summit of the Mountain you find the clearest signs of the transformation initiated by the Dreaming gliders at Winnowills bidding. The rocky surface is still shaped in intricate loops and whirls, echoing the wonder of the great Egg. Half familiar shapes can be sensed as much as felt among the twisting and folding surfaces..some utterly alien, other of a disturbing familiarity.
Pain cries from the walls, but so do joy, and wonder, and the dizzying echoes of the long gone Dreams. The gargantuan latticework forms a dome to crown the Mountain with shapes that from afar might seem to be the roots of some twisted tree. Even here, the tiny cracks can be seen criss-crossing all surfaces.
The loops and folds open out to the open sky in unexpected places, and ways. Though none of the openings are larger than the armspan of a glider, and most much smaller, there are still few places left shadowed. The light of the sun and the moons weaves intricate shadows, that changes in fascinating ways as time passes.
In some nooks and crevices there have been placed furs or pillows, telltale traces of the gliders spending hours and days in dreamy contemplation of the sky. A winding stairway leads Down to the main parts of the Mountain.

Tsoran tends carefully to Darkwing, removing the harness and seeing that the great bird is watered and fed.

Aroree grits her teeth and waits until the hawk has been tended too, hovering in the open aerie "Tsoran... if it is something routine why don't you speak it and be done?"

Tsoran turns to face Aroree. "Because it is not. This is a rare event. But let us speak of it somewhere less open. Do join me, Aroree."
Tsoran moves off into Hall of the Chosen Eight.
Tsoran has left.

You make your way out of the Aerie and into the Hall of the Chosen Eight.
Hall of the Chosen Eight
Roughly circular, this hall is a good four spans from wall to wall. The pearlescent shimmer of the indigo blue stone reflects the light that filters in from some unseen source. Here and there about the room shadows dance over ornately shaped whorls, some taking on half-familiar shapes before melting back into the walls. The walls themselves are smooth as glass and free of the minute cracks and fissures that are so evident in the rest of the Mountain. Rising out of the floor, roughly in the center lies an oval table, the shaped benches below it appear to provide comfortable sitting for four on a side, one bench to either long side of the table. Nine passageways lead out of this room, one each to the private quarters of the Chosen Eight, the ninth leads up a short stairway to the aerie.

Tsoran walks over to the central table, pouring wine into two glasses from the convenient jug of wine. He hands one to Aroree, once she arrives.

Aroree pauses with a thin lipped frown looking at the glass a long moment before taking it "I don't like how this conversation is going, Tsoran."

Tsoran sips his own, regarding Aroree. Then he sends softly ** How does it feel to be back in the Mountain, Aroree? Some seem to find it confining after stretching their wings in the Outside. ** His expression and send are neutral.

Aroree sighs "are you deliberately trying to be exasperating, my friend?" shakes her head and paces over to the table, settling into one of the chairs with her glass. "It is both more and less confining than the world outside. I know where I belong if that is what concerns you."

Tsoran murmurs. "So you say." He settles in another chair, toying with the glass. ** In this case, it does matter, though. A Chosen seems to have gone rogue. It is somewhat important that the one to set the matter right is not in danger of being...shall we say, tainted? **

Aroree's eyebrows arch skyward and suddenly appreciating the glass in her hand takes a deep draught before replying. "puckernuts... who?"

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's cool send touches you in a more personal send. ** Will it matter in your efforts to fullfill your duty? **

Aroree's spine straightens at the mental touch and there is a pause before she replies almost hesitantly "No... of course not. But... the particulars are important Tsoran, the reason why"

Tsoran locksends ** Have you lost the art of sending, Aroree? Or is that statement less than truthful? **

Aroree's eyes drop to her glass, your sending having much the effect of a slap to the face. "No Tsoran, I remember how to send." she takes another drink of her wine and sets down the glass, keeping her eyes on it, nice, neutral target as she battles with her need for privacy... how hard to keep such a loathsome secret all these moons amongst the honest wolffolk... but you know already, why should she fear touching your mind?

Tsoran waits with all the patience of a lizard on a warm rock. Aroree will need to rediscover this part of being a glider, if she is to serve her function.

Aroree takes a deep, calmning breath and then sends

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree's mind touches yours hesitantly, even though she tries to repress it the hunger in her mind is instantly obvious... she's apparently not been indulging her pecular addiction much while away. There is loathing and shame for it as well, all this comes faster than the words you ask for ** I will do my duty to the Mountain and it's Lord, no matter who it is who has transgressed. However I fear my definition of duty in this case may be different from yours. **

Tsoran smiles slowly, putting down is glass and raising to go over to Aroree's side. He puts a pale hand on her shoulder, leaning down to whisper against her ear. "Perhaps the definition on this case will be pleasure, dear sister." And lingering the touch, he follows up with a send tinged with his own dark pleasure at the situation.

Tsoran locksends ** Zirek has transgressed once too often. He currently dreams in wrapstuff, in the secret rooms. It will be your duty to... explore his mind, and adjust him back to usefulnes if you can. Or to give the word that he cannot be saved, if such is the case. **

Aroree stiffens "No. I do not tamper with minds."

Tsoran whispers softly, his voice a pleasant tingle against your ear. "Then you will just have to tell our Lord there is nothing to be done. Unless you examine him and find that he is not, after all, wanting." He straightens, releasings his hold.

Aroree shivers, she tries not to, but... her hands find her wine glass, moving a precious few inches away from you, she clenches the glass and asks horsely "What did he do?"

Tsoran stands behind Aroree, looking down at her. ** Threatened Lord Winnowill. Assaulted me. And generally acted quite... out of control. He is lost to us, unless you find something to salvage.** He asks, with mild curiosity ** How well did you know Zirek? **

You say "Perhaps if he is that lost it would be best to let him leave."

Tsoran watches the other thoughtfully. A most interesting reponse. He says gently. "Preservers might find wrapstuffed bodies useful in themselves. We do not. And he is too dangerous to let go." He leaves Aroree with the inevitable consequences of that. "But it has been a long flight, and you will be tired. Rest, refresh yourself. Our Lord will wish to speak with you later."

Aroree naturally doesn't expect that arguement to work, but... nothing ventured nothing gained. She shakes her head "I... Tsoran I do not like what I am it is wrong to enter another's mind against thier will, worse to tamper with what is there."

Tsoran's voice remains uniformly gentle and understanding. "Of course, Aroree. I will inform Lord Winnowill of your opinion, and she will act upon it, no doubt. I will leave you to your rest now, I have guests to see to."

Tsoran heads for his chambers, bringing the half-full glass with him.

Aroree frowns after you, then turns her attention to her glass intent on finishing it before she moves. High Ones... what a trap.

Tsoran heads towards Tsoran's Rooms
Tsoran has left.

Aroree sits in the hall of the Chosen drinking wine and trying to figure a way out of this one, she's not moving anytime soon.

Zara comes in from the Aerie.
Zara has arrived.

Aroree is seated in her usual chair at the table, morosely contemplating a glass of wine that is rapidly nearing empty. She sighs and takes another swig, shaking her head and muttering "High ones... what am I going to do?"

Zara comes tripping in lightly before noticing the room is occupied. She slows her pace to a more demure one suiting a glider maiden.

Aroree's eyes glance upward to see who it is who disturbs her whallowing in self pity... She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and forces herself to offer a polite smile to the young maiden "Greetings."

Zara's desc:
The maiden before you appears to be all long willowy limbs and almost luminous grey eyes. Her skin is a striking nut-brown, not the darker chocolate of the Sun Villager oldsters. Full lips are quick with a smile, and equally quick to express anger. Curling tendrils of hair the color of volcanic ash are pulled elegantly up into a twist perched atop her head, and caught with a silvery net glimmering with crystals. Downy white feathers adorn the net as well, and seem to fall like snow to the feathered high collar which brushes just below her dark brown earlobes. Her ears are shapely, but are obviously Outsider ears, much larger than proper delicate glider ones. Pearl earrings dangle from each ear, one black and one white. The embroidered top she wears has tight sleeves which form a v over her hands, tiny downfeathers peeking out from the ends. The embroidery is pale silky white overlain with silver outlines, and the featherlined neck drops to a v over the chest, showing the dark brown curves of this adolescent's filling form. The embroidered area clings tightly to just below the waist where it forms yet another V. Resting just above this is a silver linked belt with little slivers of moon forms clinking together with any movement. The skirt is of a silky material and sweeps the floor. There are several semi-transparent layers of pale grey overlain with white.

Zara hmfs "That's a reluctant greeting if I ever heard one." She smiles and goes over to the table, perching daintily and resting her chin in her hands. "Now... what's so bad as all that?"

Aroree chuckles lightly, humorlessly and takes another drink of her wine before answering "Child, I would rather not share and darken your day." she tilts her head to one side, peering at you with a bit of a frown "You've a familiar cast to your face, but we haven't met..."

Zara inclines her head, "Zara, daughter of Zirek and Woodshadow. Tsoran brought me here to learn of my heritage." Her lips pucker into almost a pout "But he's still off somewhere. I would have at least thought he'd be responsible /here/." She hmfs slightly, and the smile returns. "At any rate, you probably know him."

Zara says "Father, I mean. He's never around when you need him."

Aroree's expression darkens if possible, she sighs and looks at her wine "yes... I know Tsoran." (woops, Freudian slip)

Zara tsks "I /meant/ you know father..." Her chatter is cheerful and she really seems to be a result of the Sun Village as much as the mix of her parents' blood. Probably moreso.

Aroree nods, it is a few moments before she trusts herself enough to look at you and speak "Yes, I know your father as well. He is a skilled hunter... how... how long have you been here?"

Zara shrugs a bit, seeming little concerned. "A while. It's hard to tell time here."

Aroree closes her eyes and asks the important question "Does your father know you're here?"

Zara hmfs, crossing her arms "He hasn't been /home/ to find out. If he would just show some more responsibility, he might find it easier to get along with everyone."

Aroree drops her head into her hands with an eloquent "oh puckernuts." having a sudden very clear idea what might have prompted Zirek's rebellion. She shakes her head "I can't do this."

Zara raises her brows "Excuse me?" She hmfs again, then tilts her head. "I'm sorry, I have to get going. I hope whatever is wrong works out for you..."
Zara smiles and waves as she wanders off.

Aroree does not smile in return, she clutches her nearly empty glass of wine with a pained expression and wishes almost despirately that she had not obeyed her summons.

You sense in a locksend, Winnowill's send greets you silkenly ** Welcome home, Aroree. **

You locksend to Winnowill, Aroree's response is slow, reluctant and heavily colored by emotion despite futile attempts to keep it from the sending ** Lord. ** and oh yes, the hunger is there... her addiction, much neglected of late.

Winnowill locksends ** Poor thing, you seem much out of sorts. Come to Me. <> **

Zara heads into Liri's chambers.
Zara has left.

You locksend to Winnowill, Aroree does not reply in words... she severs the mental connection, you can almost taste the reluctance, how she wishes to not obey but knows that she shall. It is inevitable. Aroree finishes the last gulp of her glass of wine and stands, taking only the time necessary to straighten herself so that she is properly arrayed for an audience with the Lord of Blue Mountain.

(travel spam omitted)

You enter the narrow, oval passage way into Winnowill's room.
Winnowill's Room
A pale golden light, just more than a flicker from a shadow, trickles down from overhead. The room opens up to an ornate bathing tub, leading to a series of hooks with Lord Winnowill's wardrobe. In the far corner, a large bed appears to be formed out of the rock itself, canopied with a transparent veil of dark gray silk. The floor has been smoothed over kept clean, almost a softness of stone underfoot. The ceiling breaks off into stalactites that crane down to form arches against the wall and pillars in the center of the floor. A light musk smell hangs within the air, perfumed with a honeysuckle sweetness radiating from several vines and plants that grow near the entrance and the bed. Several piles of folded leather, dyed black and streaked about the edges with a dark sky blue, lay near the tub and at the foot of the bed.
Contents:
Winnowill

Winnowill rises to greet you. "Come."

Aroree pauses before the doorway to your chambers... heart hammering the thought enters her mind that it is not too late, she can turn, go the other way leave the... she sighs, shakes her head, no, there is no other choice really. And enters, landing before you in an appropriately submissive bow. "Lord."

Winnowill leads you through the hidden passageways to her most inner sanctum. She makes no move to enlighten you until you see what is arranged for you. A form is laid out, wrapped thickly in a preserver's coccoon upon a comfortable-looking bed.
Winnowill has left.

You head towards the Hall of Memories.
Hall of Memories
Perhaps this is the room in which Winnowill retreats to think.
Contents:
Winnowill
Zirek

Aroree swallows a dry mouthful, pulling up the courage to speak "Lord... Tsoran told me... "

Winnowill looks back at you over her shoulder, a smile curving her lips "Ah, but we are both aware of how Tsoran's version of matters is seldom the only view, aren't we, Aroree?"

Aroree inclines her head in aquesence "Yes... I, I cannot... " shakes her head, cannot is not the right word "Will not do this. I know it is necessary sometimes to obtain information... but such an intrusion... "

Winnowill turns to face you fully. "Aroree, Tsoran has worked the lad into such a state that he is a danger to himself and others. He is quite unwilling to listen to reason. All you are required to do is calm him to the point that he is willing to at least consider Our point of view. It would be regrettable to lose his services over something as simple as a ... misunderstanding."

Aroree approaches the sleeping form, her shadow falls across the pristine wrapstuff and that hunger knaws at the back of her mind, insistant voice, so reasonable, just a simple task... she closes her eyes as if blocking the sight of temptation will help... it only seems to make it louder though. "W.. would it not be better to reasure his waking self?"

Winnowill chuckles softly. "How well do you know Zirek... or any GoBack?"

Aroree tries to stick to her resolve, she worries up her revulsion of such an act, clings to it "They are not animals. He is hot tempered but he is still one of our blood."

Winnowill steps closer to you, and smiles. ** Perhaps it would be easiest for you to simply observe, then, as I have done these evenings until you returned. Of course if you cannot (the implication is an indulgence of your self-proclaimed failure) do the job, it would be a simple enough matter for me to do it. It does seem that a gentler touch from someone he trusts would do less long-term damage, however... **

Winnowill's mind caresses yours with remembered images from Zirek's dreams. His emotions are so pure and raw, his dreams are acutely vivid and alive. The intimacy of that vision alone warms your very heart like a flame.

Aroree shudders at the sending, how aptly it speaks to the temptation she'd rather forget, she opens her eyes looks at the wrapstuffed elf-sized bundle with an expression of longing intense enough almost to be one of pain "You are saying I have no choice."

Winnowill's lips curve and her eyes sparkle ** There is always a /choice/, Aroree. But the outcome for our little halfbreed friend is already determined by the choices he himself has made. It is merely a question of whether you will ... help him or shall I. **

Aroree hugs her arms to herself tightly. That is no choice... but high ones... is it really better for Zirek if she does this evil deed rather than you? She drifts closer, settles down to kneel beside the bed. She bows her head and whispers "Zirek... forgive me" quiet breath of words that she certainly does not intend for you to hear and then she gives in, it is an easy thing after all, a paper thin film of resolve that melts under the heat of desire as her mind reaches out to the sleepers.

And is greeted with a red-hot turmoil of visions: Tsoran's leering face and glittering eyes. Zirek's fury as his sword slashes toward that hated face and the dissolves into dust, unable to do anything. Zara, a child, is dragged off by Tsoran, and there is a sick swelling of fear and loathing with the implied unnatural relations about to transpire between the two. Faces flicker around, reflecting anger and rejection. "You should have protected her" they imply "You are worthless, helpless..." Falling to his knees as his daughter is swept away from him and into darkness, heartwrenching agony of loss... which would cause a normal elf to awaken. But in the wrapstuff, the agony just continues.

Aroree gasps alloud at the torrent of emotion, her head tosses back and for a moment all is lost in the wave of pleasure, the intensity of dreaming, delicious... she shudders, slowly regaining herself, pulling herself from the dreaming enough to think, react... as much as she had vowed to herself that she would do nothing, merely observe the dream she finds herself drawn deeper toward the center of the swirling emotion, Zirek... sending a tendril of comfort like a drop of berry juice poured into a river... shhh... a soothing hand, a mother's touch... she's alright... she's alright, calm...

Mother... the huge vision of his mother appears, and Zirek himself suddenly seems very small. "Worthless... just like your father. Featherbrained... Useless..." He turns his face toward the comfort, tears streaming down his cheeks with the overwhelming sense of failure. And there between the two of you is Sar, smiling in that sly way he used to have. Smiling, and then pulling his hands away to reveal the dagger embedded in his heart, blood flowing over his hands. Zirek screams "No!!!" and there is laughter, Tsoran, a horribly twisted version of Zara clinging to his neck, laughing with him. They laugh at Zirek's loss and taunt him wordlessly from the shadows at the edge of the vision.

Echoing tears form at the corner of Aroree's eyes as she pours more strength into that fragile connection, a willow branch trying to turn floodwaters... No... no she sends to the sleeper... you have not failed, see, and there is an image of Zara in the hall of the chosen moments ago, laughing and cheerful, see how beautiful your daughter is? See how she laughs? You have not failed... Aroree's forgotten all now, who she is, why she does this... all save the need to calm Zirek, the master of this interal world of torment. you have not failed, you have not failed...

Zirek turns to that comfort like it is an oasis in the desert. He sees what he expects to see... what he wishes to see. You are his mate, his other half... Woodshadow, by whose soul-name he calls you now, arms raised as he begs forgiveness. He should have been a better lifemate, a better father, a better provider. He should have listened. He opens himself to you/Woodshadow, sharing the deepest intimacy of Recognized couples.

Log file from Aroree. 2-9-01

There is a yearning inside Aroree, an insanity, a longing to really be someone else coupled with her current state, the forgetfullness one achieves immersed so fully into the mind of another, and so her automatic response is to take the role she is handed, one her waking mind never would. Her hands grip tightly to the draping bedcloth, her eyes glazed lost to the waking world as she replies to love with love, longing... beloved, not your fault... do not attack yourself so... beloved... and almost instantly something calls to her, revulsion wells in the back of her mind for what she is doing and she starts to retreat

Zirek grasps for you as your dream-body turns from him. ** No, don't leave me! ** Desperation, with flickering images of a Mother turning away, a Lifemate turning away, a child turning away.

Aroree hovers, pausing in her retreat, her own emotions suddenly more potent than those she borrows from the sleeper she struggles a moment, caught between desires... finally she pleads ** Zirek... you do not need me... **

Zirek is still lost in the illusion of Aroree as /MotherFemaleMate/ ** No! I do need you, I've always needed you! Everything I've done has been for you... ** Images of Fire-haired Ember, sweet then fierce; loving then changing the world with a familiar knifeblade planted in her own Recognized's heart. Zirek's own self-dream image shrinks to that of a scared and abandoned child, crying alone in the snow.

Aroree cannot turn her back on such suffering, she draws closer, deeper into his mind, shhh... shhh... it is alright, I'm not going, I am here... beloved... I am here... I will make it right...

There is an acceptance, a NEED there, stronger than anything you've felt. But then a radiating power intrudes itself. ** It is time to come home. ** You are well aware of the presence of Winnowill in the dreamscape. Zirek seems to accept it as well, as a soft dreamsnow falls. There is no chill to the air, just a gentle muffling blanket that calms the fires of intense emotion.

Aroree's hands shake... and she backs away slowly, almost reluctantly leaving Zirek's mind, she watches, expecting another outburst from him begging her to stay... horrified to realize she's not sure which she'd prefer

Winnowill awaits your awakening with a sly smile. ** So... tell me what you learned. **

Aroree's head drops onto her hands still clenching a handful of bedding each and she shudders, breath coming raggedly as she deals with the transition, the strange elation at having touched dreams, fed that insatiable hunger that has become her constant companion, and also horror... what have I done? she shudders, eyes closed and it is a long time before she replies to Winnowill's question in a horse voice "He is alone... depressed... frightened... "

Winnowill nods slightly. "He is unstable. His loyalties are too divided. He is worthless to Me."

Aroree's eyes widen "no... " thoughts instantly flying to Tsoran's thinly veiled threats... only preservers enjoy keeping useless cocoons. She wipes a hand across her brow, loose hair and beaded sweat pushed to the side as she tries to calm herself... so vulnerable right now... always so vulnerable after the dreaming... "let him go... he means no harm to us... only" a pause to catch her breath, strange how the body reacts as if the exertion were physical as well as mental "he only holds wrath for Tsoran. "

Winnowill gazes down with veiled amusement. "What would you propose, Chosen?"

Aroree keeps her eyes cast down, the full weight of shame pressing upon her shoulders, she pushes her tired brain into motion... think... there must be a way to save Zirek... "I... I don't know... banishment maybe? he only wants his family, perhaps if he is returned to his lifemate... "

Winnowill chuckles. "Or you could adorn your bedchambers with him. You seemed quite ... taken with his dreams."

Aroree actually blushes "You were watching?" the question comes out a bit more bitter than she intended, she should have expected such, shouldn't she?

Winnowill seems amused by your reaction. "I was only concerned for your mutual well-being."

Aroree leans back from the bed, releasing her crumpled sweaty handfuls of bedding she starts to stand, thinks better of it, too dizzy for now, she rests her hands on her knees and studies the floor between them. "I do not feel he is a danger to the Mountain. There is no need to leave him thus."

Winnowill gazes down at you "And, if we were to remove him from the Mountain, what do you think would prevent him from returning with reinforcements and forcibly removing his daughter from the Mountain?"

Aroree sighs, the truth is hard to argue with "He would not allow his daughter to remain without himself." she shakes her head "There must be another option. His anger is only for her safety," she bites her lip and then offers hesitantly, knowing you will likely refute the sugestion "perhaps if she were returned to the outside... "

Winnowill raises a brow "So we should simply indulge the violent Outsiders' misconceptions about us? No. I think that he should be convinced that she is staying of her own free will and that he is unreasonable to wish to interfere."

Aroree looks over at the wrapstuffed bundle "She is his daughter, lord. The child of his flesh, of course he would want to see that she is safe, see to her well being." she shakes her head and sighs "He thinks she is in danger from Tsoran... perhaps all that is necessary is to explain to him she is not? That Tsoran's interference will not be tolerated either"

Winnowill nods. "Very well. You may have the opportunity to convince him of that. However you see fit. If you are successful, he will simply be removed from the Mountain. If you are not..."

Aroree rises to her feet, a small amount of Chosen pride still remains "I will be sucessful, Lord. Is he to be released into my care?"

Winnowill's lips curve. "Is that what you wish, or would you rather he remain so..." she guestures at the wrapstuff.

A moment, a scant heartbeat, the desire flashes across her eyes, so convient it would be, her hunger satisfied every night... but just a heartbeat. Aroree clenches her teeth, disgusted to have even entertained the notion. "I shall cut him free now, Lord, if you allow it." and indeed, she does have a knife, the small flexible blade she keeps in her boot for cleaning kills on the hunt.

Winnowill inclines her head.

Aroree dips a slight bow and moves to the bed, slicing into the wrapstuff with her thin knife, quick and efficient at least at this task.

Winnowill watches with some amusement as Zirek wakes up, rubbing his eyes. He looks around with confusion. "Wha? .... Tsoran!"

Aroree resheathes her knife and then places a restraining hand on Zirek's shoulder "Shhh... calmly hunter, Tsoran is not here."

Zirek belatedly remembers what brought him to this position. "Zora! Where is she? If you did anything to her...." He looks suspiciously up at the Lord of the Mountain.

Aroree grimaces, not a great way to start convincing Winnowill that Zirek is not a threat. "Zirek, she is alright, I just saw her myself... please be calm, now is not the time for accusations."

Winnowill smiles faintly "I'll leave the two of you alone." She retreats into the shadows as Zirek turns to look at you. "What is she doing here? Tsoran..." he almost spits the name, the bitterness is so thick, "... said she was staying with him."

Aroree looks pretty tattered around the edges, she sinks onto the bed, leaning against the high back with a sigh "Zirek... please, calm down. To the best of my knowledge Zora is alright. She seemed both in good health and good cheer when I saw her." she drags a hand across her eyes "Why did you threaten Lord Winnowill?" she asks in tired exasperation. another sigh "You've been released into my care, you are in effect under arrest."

Zirek clenches his fist. "Tsoran... brought my daughter to the Mountain. Winnowill /must/ have approved that, maybe even insisted on it. Her mother is a wolfrider. She doesn't /belong/ here... but they could.. she could /make/ her belong. I just want her choices to be her own."

Aroree closes her eyes, another brief moment to wish she were elsewhere, how painful is a divided heart "Your passion does you credit Zirek, but you cannot make demands upon the Lord of Blue Mountain. She is stronger than the both of us. You are here, in Her domain, as is your daughter. Anger will not fight you free of this web."

Zirek's shoulders sag, even though his expression is still determined. "There must be /some/ way to get her out of here. Before they do something awful to her."

Aroree sighs "You will do her no good encaged or worse. Right now you are a feather's weight from that fate."

Zirek clings to his last shreds of resolve. "I've been in the cage before. I probably will again." He buries his face in his hands. "I wonder if they even told Woodshadow where Zora is..."

You say "Zirek, help me to help you... we need to convince Winnowill you did not intend to threaten her, that you are no threat to the Mountain, only then might she listen to reason about letting you leave... " she sighs heavily "Your daughter is another matter, but there is nothing you can do now to help her. I... I will see what I can do. I doubt Tsoran has done anything untoward, he is more bark than bite."

Zirek sighs and nods. "You're right, of course. It's just... Tsoran has the most infuriating manner and if he so much as /touched/ her, I'd gladly kill him with my bare hands."

You say "Words like that are hardly going to endear you to the Chosen."

Zirek rubs his face. "It's not fair... I was a Chosen before he was."