Log Date: 2/4/96
Log Intro: Having had a heart-to-heart talk with Ekuar about confessing
her desire for Rayek, Ember braves letting Rayek float her back to the site
of an encounter he and Ekuar have just had with a huge bear. Ekuar's
staff was left behind, and the elves don't plan to let the elder go
without it.....

[NOTE: This log was taken by Ekuar rather than Rayek; part 2 of 3.]
----------
Ember is heavier than the ancient rockshaper, and Rayek focuses more
attention on keeping her steadily aloft with him. A brusque edge to his
sending, he answers tersely, ** I can do this longer, around the Palace...
**

Ember snorts faintly. ** You do well enough without a crutch, airwalker.
Don't put yourself down. **

The land slides past, and eventually, the noise of the waterfall enters the
attention of the pair of floating elves. ** I am trained by two near High
Ones, ** he answers, not without pride, but as if this explains all. And
then, he pauses, hanging in the air, and gripping his companion carefully.
** There. Look. **

The old man has had quite a fill of fish, and of Ekuar's cloak, and is
padding about aimlessly, rooting for berries and snorting at the ground,
grumbling at nothing. Ember's eyes widen a trifle. ** High Ones, he's a big
old fellow, isn't he ? ** There's a distinct note of respect in her
sending. ** Where's Ekuar's staff...? ** A hesitation is almost audible,
and then she lets whatever comment she was going to make, go.

Rayek frowns, his hope that the stream might have been abandoned vanishing,
though he cannot claim surprise at this. ** I do not see it... ** Warily,
he floats closer, carefully.

** Well, ** Ember sends firmly, ** bears don't eat wood, generally, so it
must be around somewhere. Unless he sat on it or something... ** She leans
a bit away, as if six inches of clearance one way might point the staff out
to her.

Rayek suggests, ** Knocked into the stream? ** To get as close a look as he
can, Rayek glides down closer to the fall itself, peering acutely at the
bank from which he and Ekuar had fled.

The old man snorts again, catching elf-scent on the wind, and turns to
stare up at the falls. "NNnrrrght." He takes a couple of steps towards the
water again.

There. A hand's length, maybe two, from the very edge of the water, lies
the staff. Rayek scowls. ** Curse it, the wind's just shifted, no time to
waste... ** He gestures downward, intend on floating the staff up. ** One
of us will have to  catch it! **

Ember considers the staff, considers the slowly moving bear. ** If you let
me go, I can grab it and ... ** She squints at the bear, then nods. **
vault him. You pick me up on the other side? ** This, to her mind, is safer
than attempting to lunge through the air at floating sticks.

Rayek sends openly ** He chased after us... if I drop you it's sure to
anger him...! **

Ember grins, an expression that has more to do with the excitement of the
hunt than sensibility. ** Ah, but he has to -catch- me, Brownskin. Trust
me. I'm faster than he is. ** She starts sliding her arm from around
Rayek's neck.

Rayek, feeling a ripple of that excitement -- perhaps through a lingering
thread of sending still linking his mind with hers, perhaps simply of his
own -- smirks a bit. But angles himself to drop Ember, deftly, on the bank.

Ember lands, neatly, and leaps forward, snagging up the staff with a flash
of brown skin and red hair. The old bear, affronted at the challenge to his
territory, charges, quite as predicted, letting out another impressive
roar. Ember meets  the roar with a howl, head flung back, for a moment all
frozen energy, potential for motion, purely wild, and then she darts to the
side, barely two running steps before she plants Ekuar's solid staff
against the ground and uses it as a spring, soaring into the air, clearing
the old man's back by bare inches, landing in a roll on the other side of
him, silent now, though her sending rips through the air, **
AAAAYYYYOOOOAH! **

Rayek instantly soars in to scoop up Ember again, not quite close enough to
make physical contact, but certainly enough to focus his magic to make her
float up.

Bearcubs are cute when they do summersaults. All fuzzy and clumsy.
Three-ton papa bears are not so cute, and the old man gets tangled in his
own feet, trying to turn around quickly enough to go after the intended
prey, only to be befuddled  once more by said prey unfairly moving up into
the air. With another furious roar, he swings out with a heavy paw, an
awkward attempt at either or both elves. "BRrrrrrrraaaaaawr!"

Rayek for all his earlier reticence gets a glimmer in his amber eyes, and a
fierce grin lights his face. He doesn't need the Wolfrider huntress to tell
him about the joy of the hunt; seven hundred years of life do that just
fine without her help. ** Ember, to me! ** he send-yells, gliding her up to
him just as the bear's claws swing. In time, Rayek sees the movement, and
shields himself, an instant before the talons rake near his back.

The poor old man lets out a yelp, this time, of surprised pain, drawing his
paw back to study it in confusion. That wasn't what was supposed to happen.
Long ivory claws were supposed to tear out the irritating tidbit's spine,
not get smashed against a golden glow. He licks at the paw uncertainly,
trying to determine if he's injured or not. Ember, on the other hand, lets
out a yell of delight, grabbing ahold of Rayek with the hand not holding
the staff -- High Ones alone know what happened to her spear; perhaps it's
in the same hand as the staff -- and she throws her head back with another
lusty howl. ** Fly us away, airwalker! Ayyooah! **

Rayek grabs at Ember tightly, and grins, immediately whirling to soar off.

The poor old bear scowls after the rapidly departing elves, still nursing
his paw. "Grrrrnnngh."

Only somewhat more slowly than before does Rayek soar back to the rock
upcropping serving as their camp, with Ember's weight to carry. But his
eyes are bright, his flight swift and sure.

In the meantime, Ekuar has curled up on the warmth of the rock and drifted
off to sleep, head pillowed on his arm, face peaceful.

** That, ** Ember crows, ** was fun! ** Her arm tightens about Rayek's neck
again in a hug.

Rayek almost chuckles -- the sight of Ekuar, below, looks a visual echo of
the earlier sight of Ember. But then, Ekuar's sleeping form didn't look
like Ember's, he thinks, and he pauses in the air when he is hugged. He
blinks, then returns the embrace, firmly.

Ember drops both spear and staff, tossing them a distance apart so that
when they hit the ground they don't clatter against each other, then slips
her other arm around Rayek's neck, grinning at him. ** Well hunted, ** she
sends approvingly,  generally cheerful, then tilts her head to nuzzle,
lightly, at the side of Rayek's neck.

Rayek lands, slowly, or at least starts to, stunned when Ember nuzzles him.
His own spear drops out of a startled hand, as he automatically moves to
keep himself from dropping the huntress.

Well, at least he didn't drop her. That's something, anyway. Ember pulls
her head back a little, quirking her eyebrows at Rayek, half curious. **
Good scent, ** she sends evenly.

Something, it seems, in Rayek's expression has softened. Just slightly. But
a faintly amused smirk plays along his mouth. ** I do not smell ill,
anymore. ** It's not a question.

** You smell, ** Ember corrects, ** /good/. ** This is significantly
different from just not smelling ill. Blue-green eyes hold amber for a
moment, and then, a trifle tentatively, Ember tilts her head back, exposing
throat.

Rayek's eyes widen, a trifle. Gaze drawn to that bared hollow of throat, he
then flashes a glance from it to Ember's face, and back again.

There flickers into Rayek's eyes a look that, at least in normal Rayek
days, does not typically reside there -- though in the time he's spent in
this valley with Ekuar and Ember, it's shown up there more often than
normal. It's a look of fear, that contradicts the sudden, subtle tautening
of his frame against Ember's, and the increase of his pulse in his own
throat.

Ember, slowly, reverses the tilt of her head, though her chin is still
tilted upwards as she searches Rayek's face, uncertainty etched on her
features, trying to sort out the expression of fear from the reaction of
his body against hers. The sending is private, whispered: ** You ... don't
want ... me? **

** I... ** He cannot continue, not in sending, not if he wishes to claim a
negative answer. And his scent, to a Wolfrider nose, is plain: that of
need, felt in Self, felt in the warm form clasped to him. Unsteadily, he
continues, ** Ember, I am... broken... **

** ...Broken...? ** Ember's eyebrows quirk downwards. ** Rayek, I know you
can't remember everything right now, but ... ** There's a bit of a smile on
her face. ** I doubt you're broken. ** She trails a hand up, over an
angular cheekbone, lightly.

Rayek's lower lip trembles, just slightly, at the contact. ** It does
not... bother you... that... _she_ is haunting my thoughts? **

As long as _she_ is Leetah, and not Winnowill... Ember shakes her head
slowly. ** I ... know why you love her. But I am not she, nor am I a
replacement for her. I don't think ... that you see me as one. ** Then,
after a moment, ** Though I don't know how you .do. see me. ** Another
hesitation, followed by, ** But I would like to join with you... ** That,
almost wistfully, as if she's already begun to close the door on the
possibility.

Rayek sucks in a slow breath, and acknowledges solemnly, ** You are lovely,
huntress. I... ** Is this _shyness_ in the sending of the elf who's called
himself master of the Palace?

Ember's returning send is almost surprised, in its softness. ** Am I? I
didn't know you thought so... ** She looks up again, and even more softly,
prompts, ** You...? **

A self-deprecating frown. Rayek's gaze darkens, for a moment. His pride not
really relaxed enough to confess exactly how long it has been since he has
indulged this kind of need, he glances away, uneasily.

Ember falters again, shaking her head. ** What? What am I doing wrong,
airwalker? **

Rayek answers, awkwardly, ** It is... ** He returns his gaze to Ember, and
tells her steadily, ** It is not your fault, huntress. **

Ember's expression is distinctly frustrated. ** What, then? **

Rayek stares over at the tall young Wolfrider, not answering, for an
instant of breath. What thoughts flash through his head are hard to say,
but his eyes once more hold that uncharacteristic glint of fright.

Rayek finally, then, grasps Ember's hand and presses it to his forehead,
his fingers curled around hers. Mouth tightening, he sends, his thoughts
edged; in his sending is a feel as of reluctantly allowing the Wolfrider to
glance behind the barriers normally lowered only for Ekuar. There are
memories, there....

Ember tilts her head, 'listening' silently, eyes half shut on her curiousity.

** <Recollection, of intimacies with Kahvi. A child -- a child? Lost, or so
Rayek remembers. And dimmer recollections, that can only be Ember's mother,
but which frighten him in both their intensity -- and their vagueness.> **

Rayek finishes, tightly, ** Forgive my.... nervousness. ** His sending
lashes, but not at Ember.

Ember reaches up a hand to brush over Rayek's cheekbone again, carefully.
** It's all right, ** she sends softly. ** I didn't mean to...presume.
I...should I go? **

Rayek swallows; his throat quivers briefly, with it, and his eyes drop
closed at the touch. ** Ember, ** he sends, tautly, ** I... do not know
if... I could keep my... thoughts from being elsewhere. That would... do
you no justice... **

Ember, irritably, sends, ** You think too much, airwalker. Why not just
feel, for once? I'm not Leetah. But .I'm. .here.. **

Rayek winces at the mention of the healer's name, and growls out, ** I do
not remember what she _is_, to compare you against her... ** But he trails
off. And faces the healer's daughter, gaze molten.
Rayek sends, tightly, ** Give me the Now again, huntress. ** It's
ostensibly a command... but perhaps, just perhaps, beneath the command is
entreaty.

Ember's eyebrows lift sharply, and then, wordless, she opens her mind to
Rayek again, the flood of senses barely tempered as it flows over to him.

Rayek gasps, then raggedly exhales, eyes clamping shut at the wave of
sensation. But it's what he asked for -- and, as his awareness of Ember's
presence, her touch, and most importantly, her scent, increase, he abruptly
seizes her.

And then, almost as abruptly as the sensations came to the fore, Ember
closes them off again, looking wide-eyed at Rayek. ** It's not you, ** she
sends unhappily. ** Curse it, airwalker, what I want is .you., not you
ridden with wolfrider senses. ** Her hands tangle in lock black waves, and
she shakes her head. ** Can you not ... let yourself go, Rayek, without
someone else holding the door open? **

Rayek jerks back, frowning, and barks, ** Do Wolfrider senses tell you of
something that is not already there, or simply tell you more than other
senses could? ** Need flashes in his eyes, but as Ember withdraws, so does
he, whirling away from her.

Rayek, at Ember's question, goes tense of stance, fists clenching. _Let
himself go? When was the last time he did that? With Kahvi? But then, that
was not really a _true_ release... and what did it get him, anyway, besides
a dead child and a spear thrust at his gullet? With Winnowill? What did
_that_ get him, save a snare about his soul, that horrified him as soon as
he realized what the child-harmer meant to do? Or with... _her_?_

Rayek's head bows slightly. Visions of brown hands and green eyes that know
him, to the depth of his soul -- no, that he had always desperately wished
would know him that deeply, but did he ever let her? -- flickering behind
his closed eyes, he snarls lowly at himself.

Ember reaches out, catching at Rayek's arm as he turns away, moving around
to face him again. ** No. No, they can't make something where it's not. But
/curse/ it, Rayek, I don't want to -- to -- ** Wolfrider knowledge fails
for a few moments, until she grasps, ** to /use/ you. I'm afraid of what I
want overwhelming what you want. Hasn't there been /enough/ of that
already? **

The lean muscle of his arm gone -- well, stiff as rock -- under Ember's
grasp, Rayek stands there, mouth twisted in an expression that might be
fury. Whether it is directed at himself or Ember, however, is difficult to
determine. He is silent, and if Ember's hand lingers where it is, it can be
noted that he is also shaking.

Ember's hand does linger, and she stares up at Rayek, half challenging,
eyes dark with frustration. ** You push yourself so far you'll break,
airwalker. You won't bend. Won't you let me share what I can, just you and
I, with what we ourselves have? No promises, no questions, just friendship
and wherever that can take us? **

Rayek scowls. He's already been fractured, once -- after all, that's why
he's here. The reminder, quite incongruously, makes him blush, a dull tinge
of crimson under his brown skin.

Rayek does lift his head, but not quite enough to meet Ember's gaze. The
honesty and aggravation in her sending cannot be denied -- and perhaps
because of that, he seems loathe, seems afraid, of looking straight at the
fire-haired maiden.

Ember reaches up with the other hand, the one not on Rayek's arm, to touch,
not grasp, his jaw, searching his face. ** What? What /is/ it, Rayek? **

He blushes again, and the line of his jaw quivers slightly under the
fingers brushing it. Still he does not speak, or send, but it is evident
that he is profoundly embarrassed. Only after long moments does he finally
send, angrily, ** I... do not know how... to do what you ask. Perhaps I
did, once, but... ** Rayek does not finish the thought, even though its
suffix lingers in his gaze: _But, once, I had not stolen Leetah from her
mate and children, and turned her forever against me..._ He jerks his head
up, then, at the memory, and his amber eyes turn grieved.

Ember's shoulders sag a little, and she sighs. ** I can't make you forgive
yourself, Rayek. Though I think that she would. Mother has a great deal of
love in her. ** Her smile is sad. ** I wish I could help. But ... this, **
and she gestures roughly at herself, ** is all that I am. It's all that I
have. I don't know what else to offer. **

Rayek stares at the maiden, harshly. ** If she can forgive me, huntress,
then... then why did she flee me, in Sorrow's End? ** He shakes, again, and
continues on, his sending suddenly bleak, cold, like a night wind across
the desert that bore him, ** And don't tell me you don't remember the eight
of years she was vanished, from your Holt? Did she never tell you? It was
_twenty_, for us! **

Rayek whirls again, or at least tries to, anguish twisting his face. As he
finishes, his sending takes on a frantic edge.

Ember lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. ** Did you .ask. her to
forgive you, airwalker? And yes, I rememb -- /Rayek/. ** She lets him turn,
then tiredly, steps forward to slide her arms around him from behind. ** I
remember. It was a long time ago, though. Memories fade. **

His slim frame shuddering, Rayek snaps out, ** Perhaps for you Wolfriders,
but -- ** Abruptly remembering, again, ten years of absolute solitude in
the Palace -- and how it gave him all too much time to review memories,
again and again, to keep them alive -- he cuts himself off with a strange,
strangled cough.

Moments pass, with Rayek shivering in Ember's lightly encircling arms. He
doesn't speak, or send; nor does he turn around to face the maiden behind
him.

Ember latches on to something absurd, knowing, more or less, that it isn't
the problem. ** Is it .because. I'm a wolfrider, Rayek? Not pure, like you?
** She lets the thought slide away, cheek against his shoulderblade.

** No. ** The sending, when it finally comes in reply, is oddly toneless.
But it is, at least, a sending.

Ember nods softly, arms still around the darker elf. ** I wish I could be
enough to help you heal, Rayek. But all I can be is a friend. ** The
sending turns more private, tinged with regret. ** You are beautiful,
Rayek. I truly wish... ** The sending trails off, and slowly, Ember lets
her arms fall, and she turns away.

Moments more pass, and Rayek does not elaborate. Perhaps he does not allow
himself to. As Ember finally sends, and steps back, Rayek does not lift his
bowed head. When he sends again, his tone is filled with... shame. **
Timmain herself abandoned me. I do not deserve your attention. **

Ember walks a few steps away, curls to the ground against a rock. ** I am
not Timmain, ** she sendwhispers. ** All I am is a Wolfrider. I thought
maybe it was enough. ** It is as defeated as Ember has ever sounded.

** After how I have wronged your tribe? ** Rayek turns, for a moment, gaze
liquid, pained. Then, his regard shifts to Ekuar, and then, blinking with
sudden fierceness, the airwalker turns and strides off to grab his spear,
and his cloak.

Ember hurls the sending after him: ** This isn't /about/ my tribe, you
/idiot/! This is about me and you! Why can't you let it be just me and you?
** She slams her hand into the rock next to her and buries her face against
it, shaking.

To that, Rayek gives no answer; it is enough to realize that he has caused
Ember anguish. Another tally against him. He can hardly be surprised, he
thinks. But it makes it clear what he must do. And as he swirls the cloak
onto his shoulder, he sends, meekly, not looking back as he walks off, **
Please... take care of him... **

Ember's send is low, angry. ** Run away. Always run away. You ran from
Father, now you're running from me. **

No answer. The dark-skinned figure heads towards the glacier.

Ember sends, dully, to Ekuar. ** He's leaving. **

Ekuar stirs in his sleep, features beginning to tighten from peaceful
oblivion into half-woken concern. ** ?! **

Ember's send is completely miserable. ** I did something wrong. He doesn't
want me. He's leaving. **

Rayek gets out of earshot, and, eventually, as the wind shifts, out of
scenting range, as well. Expression bleak, he aims for the glacier, not
really thinking of where he's bound, knowing only that he must be Away,
rather than to cause further harm.

Ekuar's mind wakes faster than his body... a tendril of thought, soft and
whisper-quick, reaches for Rayek's mind. ** Dear one...? **

Dimly, from a distance: ** I cannot stay, Ekuar. Please... stay with her... **

Ekuar's eyes flutter open, his face pale and set. His mind reaches out
again-- but this time, strangely powerful, almost leaping out to embrace
Rayek's thoughts. ** No. No, Brownskin. I am with you, always. ** A brief
pause, a mental caress like a soothing hand. ** Remember? We're going to
the forest. All of us. **

Rayek floats, then, carrying himself with swifter speed up the side of the
glacier. Only once he is safely out of visual range does he allow himself
to weep, and even then, no more than he can help, lest he blind himself
from his path. His distant answering sending, pointed only at Ekuar, speaks
of every memory of his restored, once more, but renewed and aching pain
along with it: ** I will only hurt you both... I cannot stay... I cannot...
I am sorry... **

Ekuar struggles, propping himself up on the rock awkwardly. His mouth is
soundlessly moving with his sending, marshalling his considerable power of
thought, emotion, and love, energy flowing along the crystal-clear bond
with his beloved student. ** Stay. You hurt me more if you go, my dear one.
Dearest one. Stay, and let me help you. **

All that Rayek sends is a miserable conviction that he is beyond help, if
the living High One, and the souls of the High Ones living no longer, have
declared him unworthy. That, before there is silence from the path he has
taken.

Ember, almost, can sense the sendings, if for no other reason than the
belief that they must be taking place. Rather than make an attempt at
intrusion, she curls tighter into herself, against the rock's cold surface.

Ekuar's eyes are wide, unseeing, clouded with pain and desperation.

Petalwing finally flits in from the berry patch it had been exploring, tiny
arms burdened with its prize of new spring berries, and it begins to
chirple its arrival, happily.

You locksend ** A burst of feeling, like a jolt of skyfire, is sent
desperately along the link if at all possible. ** <<worth>> I love you
Brownskin... always will... please... don't leave me... ** to Rayek.

Ekuar bends his head, gasping for breath.

Ember shifts slightly at the sound. "Ekuar...?"

Ekuar's thin back is heaving, hitching in irregular bursts, his bare head
bowed low, his hand lying limply on his knee.

Ember uncurls, face streaked with tear marks, and stands slowly.
"Ekuar...Ekuar, you're going to hurt yourself. Stop. Please. Please?"

Rayek, up on the glacier, now, falters in his ascent. And, finally, lands
somewhere on the icy ground, shaking, only now permitting himself grief.
Shivering in the wind -- it's cold up here, he realizes, dimly -- he cries,
with same sort of fierce effort to which he applies everything else. Not
even in weeping, can he truly let himself go; even now, he fights against
releasing his pent-up pain.

Petalwing drops its berries, abruptly, startled. /Oldold moverock
highthing?/ it asks, timidly flitting closer.

Ekuar looks up blankly to see the Wolfrider maiden, breath still coming
raggedly, and it becomes apparent why. The ancient is weeping, deep and
painfully, dry sobs coming from his throat as if torn from his deepest
core. Seldom has anyone seen him weep like this... it's been long, long
since he's felt a pain and helplessness this great. "Ch-child," he manages,
reaching out to her.

Ember, helplessly, says, "Ekuar," and comes over to him, pulling the old
elf into her arms, crying herself. "I made him go away...I'm sorry...I
don't know what I did wrong..."

"Petalwing blinkblinkblinks several times, and pipes, /Sharpdark highthing
gone?/

Ekuar leans against Ember, shaking his head. "No... don't take this burden,
my dear. It's not yours."
Ekuar's voice is thin, weary, but carries a ring of truth.

Ember lifts her firey head, bursting out, "Whose else? You can't put it on
/him/! He carries so much that it's a wonder he hasn't entirely crumbled,
by now! All I wanted to do was help..." Her voice turns to despair, tears
etching down her cheeks.

Ekuar wriggles upright, his arm still touching the huntress with warmth and
reassurance, his own despair and pain fading within at the knowledge that
one of his dear young ones is suffering. "Shh, shh. There's no blame. You
wanted to help, eh, I know, and I tried to help you. We did our best. No
one's fault, not ours, not Brownskin's. Hm? Be easy?"

Rayek, high up on the glacier, scowls fiercely at himself. He can't weep,
not here, with the icy wind -- growing more so with the coming of night --
quite willing to turn tears against him, to chill his face. But nor can he
stay here. The only thought in his head is that he must flee the valley,
find somewhere to be completely alone. He lifts up, to float again, to get
Away.

Petalwing anxiously tugs at a lock of Ember's hair and demands more loudly,
/Sharpdark highthing gone?!/

Ember swats at Petalwing. "Yes, bug, he's gone. The stupid arrogant ...
what did I do /wrong/?"

Ekuar notices the preserver at last, and gives a start. "Oh! Eh, little
preserver, yes. Gone! Quick now, follow him. Look after him." He waves his
hand earnestly northward.

Ember says "Leave a /trail/, Petalwing. Spit your goop so we can follow it."

Petalwing bobs its head, firmly, and zips off, grring to itself.
/Naughtybad sharpdark highthing! Not go by self!/

Ember, softly, says, "I wish Choplicker were still alive. I could have
caught up with him, with a wolf."

Ekuar puts one thin, pale finger beneath Ember's dark chin. "Please, pretty
huntress. Don't start trying to bind this to your own shoulders, hm?"
Incredibly, there's still a glimmer of humor-no-matter-what in the depths
of the old eyes. "That's Brownskin's biggest, eh, trouble. I always tell
him so."

Ember sighs. "I'm supposed to be a chieftess someday. Supposed to know
what's best for people." She looks after Rayek, or where he went, and
snorts.

The bug begins to spit random spurts of wrapstuff as it goes, marking a
tree here, a rock there, and after a time, it shrinks off into the distance
till it is no larger than a speck of dust against the darkening glacier.

Ekuar wipes a smudge of tears away from beneath his eyes, thin lips
flickering in the faintest of smiles. "Well... I think you do know what
would be good for Brownskin. He needs closeness, eh, so much. Love, warmth,
friends. Time in the furs, losing himself in sweetness and pleasure."

"He won't /let/ me!" Ember all but wails. "I .showed. .throat., and he ...
" She trails off into incoherentness.

Ekuar ohs, his brows drawing together, leaning forward and reaching out
again to try and comfort the maiden. "I know, I know. And you couldn't
force him. Eh! That's to your credit, my dear."

Ember's protests range between sending and speaking, depending on how much
air is devoted to crying. "I told...he asked...for the Now a-a-aaand
I-i-i," ** Ekuar, I don't want him all wrapped up in what .I. am! He w, w,
waaanted me then but not without my seeeeences... ** More incoherence.
"G-g-gliders an-an-and villagers an-an-and underwo-wo-worlders, but nobody
like me-ee-eee wa-wa-aants mee...!"

Rayek, high up the glacier, discovers all too quickly that the stiff wind
springing up along the top of the ice presses against him with more force
than he can use, right now, to keep himself aloft. Doggedly, then, he
lands, and trudges across the snow-encrusted terrain, steps anxious, quick,
uncareful. And only too late does he realize that this is a mistake, when
the snow unexpectedly gives way beneath him. A startled yell jerks out of
him, as he himself plunges down. An impact; something goes _crack_, and
then, abruptly, there is darkness.

Ekuar pulls Ember to him, cradling her close, his single arm surprisingly
strong and enveloping all at once. He murmurs quiet, meaningless comfort.
"Easy, now... It's not you... pretty one... cry now, it's all right, go
ahead..."

Petalwing, climbing ever higher along the rocks, spits wrapstuff here and
there as it passes. Sharpdark highthing must be here somewhere! It scowls
tinily as it finally spots erratic footprints across the snow;
determinedly, it follows them.

Ember exhausts herself, eventually, crying into Ekuar's shoulder, and
finally, unhappily, sends, ** We should go after him. ** The sending is
interrupted by hiccups.

Ekuar runs his hand through the bright tumbled hair, softly laying his
cheek against the dark forehead for a moment. "We'll go, you and I. But
please, child, will you believe one thing? For old Ekuar's sake, if nothing
else?" He pauses, questioningly.

Ember looks up at you tiredly. "What?"

Ekuar fixes his eyes on Ember's, deep, ancient brown on youthful
blue-green. His mind touches hers, intent and candid. ** You did nothing
wrong. You are not to blame. Please, know this as the truth. ** There are
no layers to this send, it's a pure, convinced sense of rightness. ** I
can't bear to see you bring pain on yourself. Just like Brownskin does. **
He smiles gently.

Ember smiles tiredly. ** All right. I believe you, old friend. **

[End log -- continued in long-walk-9c.log]