"Making Overtures"

Log Date:
	2/23/02

Log Cast:
	Tiana, Arnos, Wayfound, Fallberry (emitted by Wayfound)

Log Intro:
	The Vraeyan ship _Windrider_ has been destroyed by a monster outside
the ken of any of its human crew, out on the ocean that elves call the 
Vastdeep Water. Its captain Vardeus, wounded in the battle, and his cabin
boy Maerro have wound up under the care of the Raft Elves; in the meantime,
Kephissa and Valnek, two more of the crew, have washed ashore upon the 
beach and come across two local humans, Xhosa and Shelbor. But they've also
encountered a small number of a different kind of being entirely--the elves,
the likes of which have never before been seen by anyone of their land.
	But the ship itself has run aground farther north up the beach, 
with most of the rest of the survivors huddling together in a makeshift
camp under the command of Tiana--who is far more distressed by the loss of
Vardeus than she would like to admit. Unaware that Vardeus and others of
the crew are in fact alive, Tiana and her contingent have also so far
gone without meeting any of the strange pointed-eared, four-fingered beings
who inhabit this alien land....
	That is to say, until tonight. For their campsite has not gone 
unnoticed, and tonight the one who's done the watching has decided it is
safe to reveal herself....

----------
Beach on the VastDeep Water
The pale sand is full of river-born crystal and gleams with tiny rainbow 
  lights in the early morning light. Wide and inviting, the sands stay warm 
  long after sunset. There are drift logs here, and a large boulder pushes its 
  shoulders above the surface of the sand. You can see footprints, small bare 
  footprints, leading into the water and out. There is dense foliage to the 
  north that follows the coastline closely where it bends to the northwest.
The gibbous Mother Moon and the crescent Child glide silently across the chill 
  winter skies.
Contents:
Tiana
Arnos
The Windrider(#1655AJae)
Seasong's Tent <SST>(#6051JUem)
Obvious exits:
Along the Beach<S>  Forest<NE>  Up the Shore<NW>  Water<W>  Great River<E>

Tiana
        Long hair, the color of burnished copper, has been pulled into a snug 
  braid at the base of her skull and is held secure with a simple, golden 
  clasp at the end which hangs to the small of her back. Her hair frames a 
  smooth, rounded face from which a pair of deep, moss green eyes peer above a 
  narrow, aqualine nose and full lips. She has rounded ears, the left of which 
  harbors a single gold ring through the lobe, and five fingered hands which 
  mark her as a human woman somewhere in her early to middle twenties. Her 
  skin has been kissed by the sun until it is lightly tanned and freckled, 
  giving rise to the suspicion that she's no kin to the native tribes.
        She's a bit taller than the average human female and well muscled, 
  though she looks a bit thin judging by the flesh revealed by the swathe of 
  off-white fabric that's been wrapped around her form, leaving her right 
  shoulder and boths arms bare. The toga is cinched about her waist by a 
  simple, leather belt bearing the weight of several pouches, the contents of 
  which can only be guessed at for the time being, and a quiver full of 
  arrows. A pair of well oiled bracers cover her forearms from each elbow to 
  the backs of her hands. The hem of her toga flutters just above her knees, 
  leaving her lower legs and feet bare, save for the sandals protecting the 
  soles of her feet.
         Straps criss-cross their way up her legs to just below her knees and 
  support the weight of a dagger and sheath on the outside of each leg. 
  Usually, there is a curved longbow either in her hand or resting somewhere 
  near her hand, marking her to those that would know as an archer.Finishing 
  off her attire are a pair of matching, golden armbands resting high on each 
  arm and a collar style necklace comprised of golden baubles and several 
  multi-hued gemstones.

Arnos
     This one is another of the strangers recently arrived on the shores of 
  this land in rather less than optimal circumstances. And he seems to be 
  somewhat the worse for wear after the fact.
     A rather nasty-looking gash mars the line at one temple where hair 
  bleached blond by the unrelenting seaborn sun and his constant exposure to 
  it meets skin tanned deep gold by the same forces. The former is held away 
  from his face at top and sides, and allowed to hang free across broad 
  shoulders which lead into a stocky, but leanly muscular frame, honed by a 
  decade or more onboard ship.
     It is the fault of the salty sea spray more than age that eyes the green 
  of the deep jungle are bordered by faint crow's feet, and so too a generous 
  mouth flanked by laugh lines. The cleft in his chin and the faint shadow 
  cast by high cheekbones are all the work of nature in her more tender 
  moments, however.
     As with the rest of the strangers from the shattered ship, he wears in 
  one ear a bauble of gold in the form of a strange runic symbol, his only 
  real ornamentation besides the small tattoo occasionally visible on his 
  chest when conditions are right and clothes are suitably arranged for the 
  event. It too is of a strange alphabet.
     And speaking of clothes, he has some on now, tattered though they are 
  after his ordeal. A long tunic of dove gray was probably perfectly 
  servicable at one point, and the dingy, squarish knotwork edging it was 
  probably once much closer to white than it currently can claim. He has 
  managed, somehow to retain the short sword and pouch attached to the 
  utilitarian leather belt around his waist, and also the sandals which send 
  tendrils of leather to wrap up and around his ankles, tying at the backs of 
  his calves.
     Lastly, and perhaps more impressively, he was able to salvage a strange 
  item made of wood and catgut strings which he wears slung across his back 
  most of the time, though the state of his broken left arm sometimes makes it 
  hard to keep it there.

Fallberry(#111OQV$1)
This Preserver's body is of a dusky, soft purple, and its wings are streaked 
  in variegated hues of green and gold. It wears a tiny red hat with a curled 
  top and a gold-colored cuff, and, like just about all of its kind, tends to 
  be loud and grating!

Late afternoon sunlight glints off of the VastDeep as the sun sinks low on the 
  horizon turning the sky a brilliant red while setting the sea to sparkling 
  like countless gems. Tiana, having gone out to use her bow for something 
  useful, returns with a meager two rabbits to add to the precious little 
  supplies that the displaced crew of the _Windrider_ have left after their 
  fateful journey. Though she left few marks of her passage through the 
  landscape for a fellow human to follow.. there are certainly marks definate, 
  and just strange enough, to catch an elf's attention. Those marks lead 
  straight back to the beach and the odd, semi-permanant encampment that has 
  been constructed there.

And if that weren't enough to lead the natives this way, the billows of white 
  and silver smoke drifting off into the aether ought to get someone curious 
  about their source. And should they find themselves investigating, they will 
  find a broad-shouldered man kneeling next to a makeshift firepit, patiently 
  tending the fire over which he turns the spit on which the two rabbits now 
  reside.

To be sure, Tiana's passage through the woods has not gone unmarked. And, 
  truth be told, the crew of the Windrider has been under discreet 
  surveillance for half an eight of days now -- for Wayfound of Lostholt, 
  travelling alone as she is, knows better than to simply stroll right up and 
  announce herself to a pack of strange humans. Especially humans as... 
  _strange_ as the ones who are camped about the great, strange... _thing_ 
  that lies like a wounded beast upon the sand. The young wanderer watches 
  tonight, as the Daystar descends towards the horizon; thus, the hunt of 
  Tiana has not gone unnoticed. Nor does the cooking of the rabbit upon Arnos' 
  fire.

/EEeEeEeeeee!/ whisper-squeals Fallberry, the Preserver perched on the 
  she-elf's shoulder. /Bigthings! Many bigthings on bywater sandplace! 
  Fallberry no like bigthings! Findaway highthing watch bigthings more?/

"Not tonight," murmurs Wayfound to her tiny winged companion, as she climbs 
  stealthily down from the tree in which she's hid for the past few hours and 
  heads for the cache in which she's hidden a kill of her own. "I've got 
  another plan in mind."

The Preserver is smart for its kind, and after travelling with Wayfound for 
  several turns of the seasons, it can figure out her mind fairly easily. Most 
  of the time. Now, it does it swiftly, and as Wayfound retrieves her kill of 
  two plump sea-birds, Fallberry squeaks and pulls anxiously at her tousled 
  hair. /Findaway highthing take foodthings to bigthings?! NoooOOOooo no no 
  no! Fallberry no like bigthings!/

"Fallberry, you will never manage to learn a thing if you don't indulge in 
  curiosity every so often," drawls the she-elf. She doesn't bother to explain 
  to the bug that her _own_ curiosity is on fire, for she has never seen 
  humans such as these before. And so with her kill in hand, she emerges from 
  the northern woods with an agitated Preserver yanking at her hair in futile 
  protest. She makes no attempt to conceal her approach, though her footsteps 
  are silent on the sand, and her eyes glow like a wolf's in the deepening 
  dusk.

Tiana has seated herself near the campfire, trying to keep at least one side 
  of herself warmed as the sea winds bring small gusts of the winter chill 
  air.. and though the season may be warm for this part of Abode, the clothing 
  these people wear are made for warmer climes even when adapted to cover more 
  of their bodies. The second come captain looks over at Arnos and speaks, 
  trying to make conversation and get her mind off of the chill seeping 
  through the cloth draped around her shoulders, "I hope there's enough to go 
  around.. This should make a good addition to the bread and lentils, don't 
  you think?"

With a little halfsmile, Arnos nods, "A meal fit for an Emporer." His eyes 
  waft over her shivers shoulders for a moment, and then, "You should say 
  something when you're cold. There's plenty of blankets to go around. We 
  managed to save the majority of the stores, after all." Intending to go 
  fetch her one, he rises, and promptly freezes, half-crouched still. He's 
  finally spotted their visitor, and every muscle in his body is tensed as a 
  result.

Even if Wayfound's approach is silent, the Preserver can hardly be missed. For 
  all its miniscule size, Fallberry's high, shrill, piping voice carries with 
  amazing ease, and with every step of the she-elf's the Preserver makes its 
  opinion of the course of action at hand known: /NooOOoOOo nononono bigthings 
  bad! Hurt findaway highthing! Poke with stickthings! Rip Fallberry's wings! 
  Fallberry knows! Fallberry remembers! Nastybad bigthings! Sunnygreen 
  highthing and furrystrong highthing and makefire highthing all know, tell 
  findaway highthing when findaway highthing tinysoft cradlebaby! 
  NoooOOoOoOOOoo--/

However, Wayfound doesn't bat an eye despite the vigorous squeaks of the 
  creature flapping atop her head. After the time she's spent in the wild with 
  the Preserver, she's grown accustomed to how and when to ignore it -- and 
  thus, now that she's satisfied that these strange humans aren't going to go 
  attacking anyone anytime soon, she's willing to come out of hiding.
Besides, there's something to be said for companionship of beings with whom -- 
  at least, so she hopes -- one can hold a rational conversation.
Her voice rises up out of the darkness, higher than a human's would be, though 
  husky for her kind. What she says in her fluting cadences is a mystery... 
  but it is a trifle tentative of sound, quite polite, and accompanied by her 
  small hand holding forth her kill in offering.

Tiana smiles at Arnos's words and starts to speak but, as she notes his sudden 
  distraction and the tension in his posture, her hand moves toward her bow. 
  All thoughts of the chill wind slip from her mind as she peers through the 
  flames trying to make out what it is that's distracted him. It takes but a 
  moment but, as the unintelligible voice greets them she follows it to its 
  source and her eyes go wide.

It takes only a heartbeat before she asks in an aside to her crewman, 
  (("Kalrioce's hammer! What /is/ that?")) she asks as she slowly rises to one 
  knee making it a bit easier to keep track of the small... person??

Arnos waves a hand behind him to silence Tiana, still keeping a wary stance as 
  he examines the new arrival with a shrewd gaze. It is a while before his 
  smile returns, and he begins to slowly unwind, stepping forward to approach 
  the... child? slowly. His head tilts slightly to the side as a million 
  different analyses of her tones and postures cycles through his linguist's 
  mind, resulting in the conclusion that this being appears friendly. Or at 
  least, wants to appear friendly. She's certainly not declaring war. 
  Carefully, warily, he reaches out a hand to take the offering. ((Thank you 
  very much, little one.)) It is obvious from his tone and stance that is 
  expressing gratitude, as he bobs his head slightly and widens his smile.

Fallberry, scrambling to a vantage point at the very top of Wayfound's head, 
  clings doggedly to her pale mop with its lower limbs while waggling a 
  miniature finger at the astonished humans. /Bigthings no hurt findaway 
  highthing and Fallberry or Fallberry make MUCH wrapstuff!/ it scolds.

"Fallberry will do nothing of the kind," Wayfound tells it in an undertone, 
  her eyes all the while upon the man and the woman she has startled out of 
  their fireside conversation. Startled how badly? That's the question, isn't 
  it? That they have not immediately shrieked "DEMON!" and leapt to their feet 
  and seized her is promising, at least. In fact, the human male seems 
  amiable, and while _he_ analyzes _her_, her uncannily shrewd gaze sweeps 
  over him in return. One thought blazes through her mind, in a surge of joy: 
  _I don't know his words!_ Her mind, eager for further investigation of a 
  brand new un-tapped wealth of knowledge, wants to leap on this with all the 
  vigor of the wolf she's left hiding back in the forest... but no, not yet. 
  Not till she's sure this'll be safe. Arnos' smile wins him a small crooked 
  one in return as she hands the birds over, saying gravely, "I am afraid I do 
  not understand your words, but from what I have surmised your people are 
  hungry and could use fresh meat."
The birds are handed over, from a hand of four fingers to a hand of five.

Apparently Arnos' expert skills in this regard have not yet been able to 
  unravel this new and completely alien language. He has very little in the 
  way of common denominators to draw from. He says, ((These will help us a 
  great deal indeed. Thank you.)) And then he sweeps a hand back to encompass 
  the fire in a welcoming gesture, moving slowly back towards it, beckoning 
  the newcomer to follow. ((Please, join us. No sense in you going hungry to 
  feed us.)) His eyes drift momentarily, confused and apprehensive in that 
  moment, to the thing on the child's head. He must be seeing things. It's a 
  bird or a pet or something. It is ignored.

Tiana simply watches the exchange with an expression of curiosity and some 
  wariness but, as Arnos's posture relaxes so does her own. After all, he's 
  the language expert so, if he's chosen to stand down for the moment, then 
  she will do the same unless given an indication that she should do 
  otherwise. Her hand moves away from the bow at her side and she offers a 
  tenative smile as she settles back on her heels.

The eyes of the 'child', reflecting back the firelight in lupine glints of 
  amber and green, flash from the male human to the female; does that one, 
  Wayfound wonders, share her companion's evidently welcoming sentiment? 
  Smiled to, the she-elf decides that apparently the woman is going along with 
  the man for the moment. And thus, she does come farther forward into the 
  circle of firelight -- enough that it might be seen that for all her 
  diminutive height, this creature possesses a body of leanly corded muscle 
  and curves where a human's eye would put curves on an adult female. Whatever 
  else she may be, this being is no child.

Fallberry, to this, promptly squeaks and burrows further into Wayfound's hair, 
  though it insists as it does, /Fallberry make wrapstuff if bigthings bad?/

"Fallberry, one sign of wrapstuff and _I_ shall assuredly rip your wings off 
  myself." This, again, is lowly muttered. More loudly -- though all of 
  Wayfound's words are habitually softly spoken, a she-wolf's low growl in 
  each syllable -- she adds to the human male as she looks up speculatively at 
  him, "You are most amiable; I am pleased to discover it. I am Wayfound." At 
  this last, she gestures at herself, crooking a pale golden eyebrow as she 
  watches to see whether the Tall One is quick-witted as well as friendly.

Ah! That universal sign he knows. It is generally the first thing he sees when 
  encountering someone speaking an unfamiliar language. "Wayfound," he 
  repeats, reassuring himself that he has, in fact, heard correctly. Then he 
  motions to himself, saying, ((I am Arnos.)) A pause to let that sink in, 
  then, (( I am most pleased to meet you, Wayfound. You are the first friendly 
  soul we have laid eyes on. The only soul, in fact.)) He glances back towards 
  Tiana, indicating her, and says, ((This is Tiana.)) Another welcoming smile, 
  and he settles himself down by the fireside, working to construct another 
  spitrod for the new food source to cook on.
Only the barest of uncertain glances is cast towards the patch of hair into 
  which the strange creature accompanying Wayfound disappeared. What was that 
  thing?

Tiana's brows arch at the squeals coming from the top of the little person's 
  head and from the angle that she's at, all she can see up there is what 
  appears to be a very lovely hair ornament so, she can't help but wonder 
  where the source of the sound resides. She looks over at Arnos, who is 
  holding the stranger's offering, and smiles, (("Well, at least we know that 
  we aren't the only ones alive on this patch of land, now... and this one 
  seems to be of generous nature.)) As she's introduced, she turns back toward 
  the small maid and inclines her head in a slight nod and smiles more warmly 
  this time, ((Good evening, Waifownd)) she says attempting to get her mouth 
  to make the proper sounds of the newcomer's name.

The closer she gets to the ship and the shadow of its great broken bulk, the 
  harder it gets for Wayfound to keep her attention off it. Those ambergreen 
  eyes of hers flash upwards to take it all in, before they dart their 
  attention back to the pair of humans. Her head quirks, ever so slightly, 
  quick and as birdlike as her voice -- though the set of her body and the 
  slight crinkle of her nose speak of wolf rather than of bird. 
  "((I-am-Arnos?))" she queries then, the pronunciation careful and slow... 
  but there. "((Ar-nos?))" Let's try to ascertain exactly what syllables 
  amongst those he's uttered are in fact his name, shall we?

For a moment, at first, Arnos shakes his head, then he nods, encouragingly 
  when Wayfound is able to isolate the syllables applicable. "Arnos," he 
  confirms, with an even warmer smile than before. This one is bright. A 
  perfect candidate to teach him the language of the natives. A finger pokes 
  the air between himself and the ship, "This is the Windrider," he informs 
  her, pausing every so slightly before the name to separate it from the rest 
  of the sentence.

Tiana sits quietly and watches the exchange between the two with an interested 
  air but, she keeps her curiosity to a minimum.. for the moment at least.

So it _does_ have a name, whatever it is -- but is it a _name_, this word the 
  human man has uttered? The name for the thing itself, or the _kind_ of thing 
  it is? 'Preserver' is a different word than 'Fallberry', 'elf' a different 
  word from 'Wayfound'... but as of yet, she has no way to know for sure. 
  "((Wind-ri-der,))" she murmurs thoughtfully. Then, swiftly, she echoes back 
  more, her own finger making the circuit of the ship and the pair of humans. 
  "((Wind-ri-der, Ti-a-na, Ar-nos.))" Nor does she stop before gesturing 
  wolf-quick at herself _and_ at the winged sprite in her hair, then to the 
  ship, the two humans, and her kill in rapid succession. Along with the kill, 
  too, she mimes an act of carrying. "We saw the Wind-ri-der, Ti-a-na, and 
  Ar-nos, and brought birds. You looked" -- her fingers swing between the 
  humans, again, then up to her eyes -- "hungry." Down to her belly.

Arnos's eyes follow the motions like those of a hawk following its prey, and 
  he listens just as closely, nodding every-so-slightly here and there. "The 
  Windrider," he says, motioning again to the boat, "is a ship." It is a few 
  moments more before he is able to put together anything of what the elf has 
  said. ((These are birds?)) he asks, motioning to the meal WAyfound has 
  brought them. He does not yet tackle the last word.

Tiana doesn't catch most of the first part of what the little one has said but 
  she does catch that last bit and chuckles, (("If I catch your meaning right, 
  you're very astute.")) she addresses their new friend. Her stomach takes the 
  opportunity to growl loudly and she points to her tummy as she turns that 
  last word of Wayfound's into a question, "Hun-gry?"

A tiny head topped in a hat of red and gold emerges anew from Wayfound's hair, 
  and green-and-gold wings flutter as Fallberry pipes cautiously, /Bigthings 
  no hurt findaway highthing and Fallberry?/

"The bigthings will not hurt us, Fallberry," Wayfound assures without so much 
  as glancing up.

Her tone seems to assure the bug, who straightens up a little more atop her 
  head and peers at the humans with its brightly colored eyes. /Hellohello 
  bigthings!/ it carols.

To this, Wayfound's mouth now curls into a bit of a smirk. "This," she 
  pronounces, jerking a thumb upwards at her hair, "is... Fallberry. And yes, 
  birds. One bird." One hand points to one of them. "Two birds." Both hands, 
  to each. And to Tiana, she nods levelly, towards the human woman's noisy 
  belly. "Hungry," she affirms.

"Birds," Arnos muses to himself, quietly. "One Bird. Two Birds." Nodding, as 
  if he's stumbled on something brilliant. "Fallberry?" he asks, rising and 
  taking a step towards the elf again, peering down in quiet amazement at the 
  thing now perched atop the other strange creature's head.

Tiana's stomach is instantly forgotten as she notes the movement atop 
  Wayfound's head and her eyes widen in wonderment as the 'bow' shows itself 
  to be another living creature unlike anything she's ever seen before. 
  ((Hetalia's Loom! I thought that was just an ornament...)) she says in a 
  voice filled with wonder. First a child height woman and now.. this.. this 
  Fallberry creature... ((We've certainly landed upon a strange and wonderous 
  shore, Arnos.))

Fallberry leans hard to the side as the human stares at it, almost so far that 
  the Preserver nearly falls against the she-elf's pointed ear. /Givewords 
  bigthing looksee at Fallberry funny,/ it pronounces. If it had eyebrows, it 
  would be crinkling them.

"I do not believe he has ever seen your like before," Wayfound replies to it. 
  _And for that matter, it seems fairly obvious that -I- am as strange to 
  these humans as they are to me -- High Ones!_ Humans that have never seen 
  elves before. A dazzling opportunity, one for which Wayfound has often 
  wished ever since she first laid eyes upon the Tall Ones in Blue Mountain. 
  To Arnos, then, she states clearly, putting emphasis on the verb and the 
  final noun -- Timmorn's Blood, but this human seems sharp with words! -- 
  "Fallberry _is_ a _Preserver_." Her hands make their dance again, pointing 
  out things in immediate range. "I _am_ an _elf_. _You_ _are_ a _human_. 
  ((Wind-ri-der)) _is_ a ((ship))." Ship. She'll come back to that.

A vigorous nodding begins even before Wayfound finishes her designations, and 
  for the last bit he joins her, saying, ((Windrider is a ship.)) Then he 
  repeats, "Fallberry is a Preserver. You are an elf. I am a human." Each of 
  the nouns has a slight questioning tone to it, searching for confirmation. 
  After a moment of thought, he points to the roasting rabbits, and says, 
  ((Dinner.)) With a quick grin, he bends back down to begin removing them 
  from their spits.

Tiana listens to the exchange and catches some of it but, not all of it. 
  Languages aren't her specialties after all. She's sure that she can get 
  Arnos to help her figure it out later when her mind's not reeling from 
  learning that they aren't alone out here after all... she watches Arnos 
  removing dinner from one of the spits for a scant moment before her eyes 
  widen and she addresses him in an excited tone, (("Do you think she might 
  have seen any of the others?"))

Arnos considers Tiana's question as he sets the meat down on a convenient rock 
  for carving. ((It's a possibility. But I can't ask her now. I don't have the 
  words yet. Perhaps after dinner.)) To Wayfound he asks, ((What is a 
  Preserver?)) his eyes on Fallberry as his dagger works through the meat, 
  shaving off thick slices.

"((Dinner,))" murmurs Wayfound. Her expression's primarily a stoic one; still, 
  though, there's a small curl to her mouth that may denote a glimmer of 
  amusement at Arnos' ready grin, not to mention the obvious interest in that 
  particular word. The humans did, after all, look rather hungry. She does not 
  sit, not yet, for she's keeping a clear route of escape between her and the 
  forest from which she's emerged -- just in case she needs to howl for 
  Surejumper to come to her aid. But she does watch the man's actions with the 
  food, interest glinting acutely in her eyes as she absorbs each and every 
  one of his actions. These humans cook their meat in fires, too, but she's 
  noting the tools he's using, how the scent of the rabbit-flesh tells her of 
  how long he's cooked it, even what the scent of the fire tells her of what 
  they've gathered to use to burn.

/Bigthings put meatstuff in FIRE!/ Fallberry whines.

"Humans do that to their food, Fallberry, and might I remind you I have 
  already determined that there are certain advantages to introducing meat to 
  flame?"

The swift exchange between elf and Preserver happens even as Tiana hopefully 
  questions Arnos and he replies; Wayfound then considers the evident query 
  directed to _her_, and her brow crinkles as she considers how to answer it. 
  That's a tall order you're making on the strength of four or five words' 
  worth of acquaintance, human! She shakes her head, signifying a negative, 
  while gesturing at her temple to suggest knowledge and her mouth to suggest 
  speech. "I do not have enough words, Arnos."

Arnos attempts to curb the disappointment which shows in his face at that 
  answer by asking instead, "What is elf?" And before Wayfound answers, he 
  adds, ((Dinner is served,)) and spears a few pieces of meet with his knife, 
  offering them to the newcomer.

Tiana's attention wavers as Arnos moves to cut up the meat and her stomach 
  makes another rumbling announcement to the trio. She smiles appologeticly to 
  Wayfound then sighs as she shrugs her shoulders helplessly. What else can 
  you do when your belly's protesting it's state of emptiness? Then, Arnos 
  announces that dinner is served and all hope of her learning anything 
  further at this point is gone. She waits for Wayfound to be offered some 
  meat and watches as the few others who aren't on watch or sleeping before 
  their turn at watch, form a sort of line and take their night's portion of 
  the food.

There are several curious glances cast at the two strange critters in the 
  camp, and no small amount of questions that get murmured before they go back 
  to their duties.. or on to their beds.

Rare indeed is the question that stumps Wayfound of Lostholt, daughter of the 
  Wolfbringer. Rarer still is a _pair_ of questions that can confound her. 
  Arnos' questions are absolutely reasonable -- and the import of them shakes 
  her right down to her toes. They _haven't_ seen her kind before! She can 
  read it in the faces of the ones called Arnos and Tiana... and in the faces 
  of those who venture up near the fire as well. _Her_ reaction to them is 
  just as easily read: a hint of wariness remaining in her stance, her head 
  subtly swiveling this way and that, her ears twitching at the sounds of the 
  weary Tall Ones making camp near the ship's remains... and then her 
  attention comes back to Arnos, something coming into her eyes that few of 
  her own tribesmates have ever seen her express. Wonder. As she draws a flint 
  blade of her own to take the slivers of meat, she breathes, gesturing with 
  her free hand again to her temple, to her eyes, "You do not _know_ elves? 
  You have never _seen_ elves?"

It takes Arnos a moment to puzzle out what the elf is asking, but finally he 
  shakes his head. ((There are no elves where we come from.)) Hopefully she 
  will understand that. ((No Preservers, either.)) Taking the last of the meat 
  for himself, once everyone else is served, and settles down to some serious 
  eating.

[Unfortunately this scene was never finished--but it set the precedent for
 Wayfound's interactions with the Vraeyans, and most importantly Arnos, who
 became her closest friend among the humans later on. End log.]