Log Date: 2/3/97, 2/7/97, 2/12/97 Log Cast: Slate, Winterblessing, Thicket Log Intro: Seasons have passed since the fateful Recognition of the Needlebrook elf Evergreen, who for seasons before had been inadvertantly carrying within him the spirit of Thicket's dead lifemate Pacer. Overwhelmed by the force of the Recognition with Silhouette that seized Evergreen, Pacer's spirit vanished, out of the sensing of Evergreen -- and of Thicket. Unable to bear a second loss of her lifemate, Thicket sank into catatonia, numb to the world around her. Slate, who had been her guardian turns of the seasons before while her arm had been dead at her side, has now stepped back into that role -- though taking more care of Thicket now than he ever had before. This time, though, Slate has assistance... his cubling Winterblessing, who has taken to Thicket arguably as much if not more so than her sire. And it's been Winterblessing who has gotten the best responses out of Thicket when she's had to be asked to eat or bathe or anything else. It's been something of a dull existence, with Thicket refusing to speak or send or even pay much attention to what goes on around her, but one thing has marked the recent turn of the seasons... the birth of a litter of wolf-cubs by Silvermoon's bond-wolf. And these cubs join Slate and Winterblessing in an excursion into Thicket's den.... ---------- Cave under the waterfall(#4243R) This tiny nook under the waterfall is constantly filled with the sound of rushing water - yet, surprisingly, seems always dry itself, protected by an overhanging ceiling of rock which prevents any spray from the plummeting water to dampen the cranny. That curtain of water casts ever-shifting, dappled shadows along the walls, and its constant murmur lulls the senses into dreaming. Contents: furs Obvious exits: Out Slate steps in from outside. Slate has arrived. Slate crawls through the entrance to the cave as he often does every afternoon with food for thicket. This time however, he's followed by Winterblessing and about 4 wolf cubs... Winterblessing steps in from outside. Winterblessing has arrived. Winterblessing runs into the cave, a small brown wolf cub nipping at her heels. Thicket, as she generally is unless persuaded to do much of anything else, is curled up quietly on her ratty, ancient furs; her thin face is pointed towards the waterfall's curtain, leaf-on-earth eyes liquid, watching the spray of droplets. The entry of the elves and cubs only bestirs her when Winterblessing's small form crosses her field of vision. Winterblessing grins happily at Slate and Thicket, leaning down to scoop the yapping cub into her arms. "Lookit, Thwicket!" She says proudly, still using the nickname she gave her although by now she can say her real name. "His name is Brownie!" Slate comes closer, kneeling on the edge of the furs like a good cub would submit to an elder wolf. He smiles and chuckles softly at Winter when he sees the exuberence she shows with her first bond...he remembers the feeling well. "Yes thicket..." he says with a smile. "Winter bonded.." Brownie yap-yap-yaps at Thicket from Winterblessing's arms, wriggling and jiggling like any healthy wolf cub. Thicket turns her head slightly, looking up at the cublings, elf and wolf both. Ever so slightly, the she-elf's head quirks, where it lies. Winterblessing grins, approaching Thicket quickly, Brownie still in her arms. "You want to see him, Thwicket?" Slate Sits and watches the pair... Thicket focuses on the little elf, and blinks once, longly, looking almost thoughtful. Winterblessing hesitates, not knowing whether or not Thicket wants to see her new wolf-friend or not. "His name is Brownie," she says hopefully. One of the other three wolf cubs in the cave, who were following "daddy" slate, slowly toddles closer to the elf on the furs, sniffing her curiously. It's a pale silver wolf cub with white socks on her feet... Winterblessing looks at you for a moment. Brownie leaps out of Winterblessing's arms to sniff his silver-colored sibling. Thicket watches Winterblessing and little Brownie; Thicket never speaks, but as the brown cub leaps down, the she-elf's gaze tracks after the creature, to rest on him and the others in the cavelet. Moonlight, I think his name was, gets into a defensive crouch and prepares to spring at his brother. Brownie yap-yap-yaps, the smaller of the two and the noisiest of the litter. Moonlight springs at Brownie, wrestling him and trying to pin him to the ground. Winterblessing grins at Brownie. Her light blue eyes shift up to look at Thicket, hesitating for a moment before asking softly, "Thwicket? Can I sit with you?" Slate chuckles and begins to skin the ravvits he brought in with his dagger. At Winterblessing's words, he looks up and watches intently. Brownie lets out a yelp of surprise. The smaller he-cub gets thrown on his back easily, nipping the larger sibling lightly in a playful sort of submission, recognising who is the higher ranking wolf in their litter. Moonlight licks Brownie's nose to affirm that yes, he is the bigger wolf and curls up around him apparently to take a nap. Brownie isn't in the mood for a nap and totters towards Winterblessing. Thicket watches the cubs, still, apparently fascinated now. Winterblessing keeps looking at Thicket, unblinking. "Can I sit with you?" she repeats softly, a little louder, just in case Thicket didn't hear. Moonlight shakes his tiny little head for a moment, like there's a sound on the edge of his hearing that he can't quite make out. He begins to pad around the cave, sniffing and exploring, making a wide circle around Thicket but slowly drawing closer. Thicket, at the cubling's question, looks back up at her slowly. Slate, by this point, has finished butchering the ravvits and offers the pieces to thicket on the pelt, setting them where she can reach them easily. Winterblessing points to a spot next to Thicket, "Sit with you?" Ever so slightly, still watching Winterblessing, Thicket gives a single nod. Winterblessing breaks out into a wide smile, plopping down next to Thicket. She grins up at the older elf, then oopses, remembering at the last moment about mannors. "Thank you, Thwicket..!" Slate Sits back to watch what occurs... Moonlight, on the other hand, keeps getting closer and closer to the three elves. Suprisingly, he bypasses the ravvit that is just sitting there and keeps getting closer to thicket, sniffing her left foot curiously. Suddenly Brownie rams his head into Moonlight's side, yapping happily as his want for play is renewed. Thicket's eyes soften a bit as she regards the little elf. The nudge at her foot, however, makes her blink, and look around, disoriented. Winterblessing hums happily to herself, her gaze shifting from Thicket to the frolicing cubs to Slate and back to Thicket again. Moonlight *yelps* as he's hit when he's not ready. He rolls around on the floor with his brother, fighting to keep his position in the cub ranking. The fighting pair manage to bounce against Thicket's leg a few times before stopping, Moonlight the winner again. Slate chuckles at the wolves and watches... Brownie ggrruuffs! in frusteration. Thicket's head turns around to watch the cublings again, as they bounce and roll near her, and bump against her bare shin. Brownie nips Moonlight's muzzle again to signify who's the winner and yip-yap-yelps playfully, twisting and turning until he manages to pry himself loose. The cub loses balance, knocking into Winter, than Thicket, before finally tottering over to Slate. Slate picks up the small brown cub and scritches behind his ears playfully, sending him tottering back to Winterblessing. And moonlight resumes his sniffing of thicket's foot. That weird feeling is coming from her apparently... the tiny silver cub looks up at thicket and *yaps* questioningly. Winterblessing opens her arms willingly, letting Brownie crawl into her lap. The elf-cubling forgets to ask Thicket if the wolf can sit too, too busy making faces at Brownie. Thicket's brow crinkles, though, as she watches the silver wolf-cub. For the first time in several moons, an expression other than blankness appears to register in Thicket's weathered face: bemusement. Winterblessing is too absorbed to notice Thicket's expression. If she did, who knows how the cub might've reacted to her friend's sudden, but slight, change. She nuzzles her new-found wolf-friend's fur contentedly, letting a short, happy sigh escape from her. Slate chuckles softly at the cub, then silences as he watches Thicket do something other than sit there... Moonlight *yaps* again at the ragged elf, toddling closer. Thicket moves a hand, slowly, absently, as though having forgotten how to do so; the palm turns, eventually, to press against the ground of the den, to push Thicket slightly up. She moved! Moonlight leaps back and yaps again. Mabye she wants to play! Winterblessing looks over at Thicket, grinning cheerfully and making a small, incoherent noise of encouragement. Slate watches silently...apparently the wolf cubs are helping... Brownie responds to his brother's noise, yapping. Moonlight doesn't notice his brother. He's too interested in the elf that's sitting up in front of him. He yaps again, hopping around like a frog on a hot rock. Winterblessing watches Moonlight and Brownie with a mixture of amusement and excitedness, struggling to keep the wriggling cub in her arms. Thicket sits up, awkwardly leaning on that one arm, and stares with furrowed brow down at the silver wolfling. She is starting to blink a time or two, as well. Moonlight stops hopping for a bit and walks closer, sniffing thicket curiously. Winterblessing's grin widens as she notices the subtle changes in Thicket, sitting up, blinking, expressions. She tilts her head to the side curiously, glancing from Moonlight to Thicket and back again. Thicket's eyes widen a trifle; the leaves-on-earth gaze sharpens, becoming almost... curious. Brownie yap-yap-yaps at his brother, struggling to be free of Winterblessing's grasp, annoyed that his silver sibling is not responding to him. Moonlight steps a few steps closer, the ancient fur wrinkling under his feet as he moves. Two bright blue eyes peer up into Thicket's, the tiny nose trying to make sense of what is going on. Winterblessing watches Thicket and Moonlight silently, her blue eyes shifting to look at Slate curiously. Her ears visibly prick up at him, still holding Brownie in her arms. Slate nods to Winterblessing... Winterblessing suddenly has a puzzled frown, burying her face in Brownie's silky cub-fur, her curious blue eyes staying on Thicket and Moonlight. Moonlight yaps at thicket again, still looking up into her face, little nose sniffing quietly. Winterblessing nods at a private locksending from her father, hugging Brownie fiercely as a small wave of fear, worry, and relief wash over her, the feelings oddly mixed together, leaving the five-year old silently confused. Brownie yelps quietly at the sudden fierceness of the hug, his breath cut off momentarily before Winter relaxes her hold. Moonlight yaps softly, pale blue eyes looking into Thicket's leaf-on-earth gaze. His tiny nose wiggles as he takes in the scent of this person... Slate sits back and watches Thicket curiously, watching to see what she will do. Brownie yaps back at Moonlight, not really caring if his sibling was yapping at him or not, merely yapping for the sake of noise and attention. Thicket, ever so slowly, sits up fully. Under her long ragged bangs, the she-elf's brow furrows, eyes crinkling beneath them, as she peers at the little wolf. The little wolf peers back, sniffing the stranger's scent curiously. That strange feeling...it's coming from this one. Slate watches.... Thicket's lips part, as though she might speak, although she doesn't. She does, however, slowly lift a thin hand, palm up, fingers limply curled, towards the cub. Tenatavely, the small cub creeps forward, sniffing the outstreched fingers. His little bottom is up in the air, tail wagging like a leaf in a windstorm. He looks up at her again, sniffs her fingers one more time, then licks them. Thicket's eyes widen, at that licking from the miniature lupine tongue. Her mouth opens again, and stays open for a moment or two, falteringly. moonlight too seems stunned...his tiny silver eyes are locked on Thickets as if something is happening...something wonderful. he walks forward some more and hops up to lick her face, yapping happily. Thicket's two hands come up awkwardly to catch the cub, almost of their own volition helping lift the little one up to her. Once more her mouth moves, and this time, a hoarse, barely discernible noise escapes her: "Wo..." Slate looks up at the noise..."Wolf..." he says softly, crawling forward to peer at her with lupine grey eyes...same as the wolf's. Moonlight licks her face like a wolf possessed. Every movement in the cub's body says "I'm happy...she's mine!" Thicket, as the cubling wriggles and licks her vigorously, stares at it wide-eyely. At Slate's voice she does not look up, but her mouth does move as he speaks, forming with difficulty the word 'wolf'. Slate tries again...."Wolf...you and he bonded..." moonlight seems to agree...wrigling around in her arms and attempting to give thicket a bath with his tongue. "Wo... wolf," Thicket repeats, voice rasping from long seasons of silence, and interrupted by that eager attention to her gaunt face. By the high ones..."His name is Moonlight..." he says helpfully... Thicket, slowly, awkwardly, turns her face into the cubling's pelt, though her brow remains confusedly crinkledly. "Wo... wolf?" Moonlight settles down when his bond holds him in such a way... Slate nods and sits on the ancient furs with her...."wolf..." he repeats, reaching out to gently pet the small cub gently. Moonfang growls and nips at his fingers...Don't touch me! My thicket! Thicket starts a bit at Moonlight's possessive, protective growl. Slate draws his hand back quickly, looking from him to thicket and back again. Moonlight seems to forget about slate, licking Thicket's weathered face happily. Slate says "Possessive little bugger, isn't he?" Moonlight wolfsends to thicket. ** Mine! ** Slate sits back on the furs, watching the other pair of wolf cubs and the sleeping Winterblessing, making sure nothing is amiss. [Thicket settles down readily with the young wolf, and, seems to respond more readily to words and actions of the elves around here now that the cubling has added his own lupine voice to the urgings for her to participate in what goes on around here. But, after a few days, unbeknowst to Thicket whose world is still limited to the new wolfling, a new danger has entered her territory -- that of the human Haerin, who has been fought off twice now by Slate....] Slate comes into the cave with the daily offering of Ravvit... Winterblessing apparently had wandered in to visit Thicket without Slate or Silvermoon's permission. She's playing with Brownie (quietly), not seeing her sire enter. His right leg is bandaged quite heavily, and the scent of burned flesh follows him, very faintly. Slowly, heavily he kneels by the furs, stretching his right leg out in front of him... Brownie yaps! in greeting to Slate, causing Winterblessing to look up. She breaks out into a wide smile then sobers, frowning at Slate's leg. She points, "What happened?" Slate looks down at the burn on his leg, then up to Winterblessing... "Burned..." he says softly, setting the ravvit in front of thicket. Winterblessing frowns, "Why?" Slate sighs..."human did it.." Thicket sits crosslegged by her furs, watching in utter fascination as Moonlight appears to be in the midst of a game of chasing his own tail. Only when the silver cub pricks up his ears at the arrival of Slate does Thicket follow his movements -- and lift her own gaze to the other elf's presence. The cub's frown deepens, looking at Slate's wound. Winterblessing glances up, "Why?" Thicket's nose wrinkles slightly, as though the odor of singed flesh makes it through her consciousness. Slate Sighs..."because she thinks I'm a demon... Winterblessing echoes Slate softly, "Demon.." she pats Brownie's head thoughtfully, then presses Slate with more questions. "What's a demon?" Her blue eyes blink innocently, full of curiosity. Slate says "What the humans call us....they think we make bad weather, cause plants to die...things like that. They think we're bad..." Slate pushes the ravvit toward thicket...wincing as his leg is stretched a bit. Winterblessing sniffs, burying her face in Brownie's fur. "Was it the hooman we saw 'fore?" Slate nods slowly, shifting around on the furs to find a more comfortable position..."The same one..." Thicket's brow crinkles.... but, she has learned, or at least seemed to, what meat is. As she has done many times before since returning to Slate's care, she automatically reaches for the offered meat; this time, though, there is a difference, as Moonlight clambers up to her and yaps for a share of it himself. With awkward hands, Thicket begins dividing the raw haunch. Winterblessing's attention is momentarily taken by Thicket's movement. She watches for a moment, then turns back to Slate. "You said she wasn't coming back.." the cub says softly, hugging Brownie close. Slate nods slowly..."I thought she wasn't..." Winterblessing says "But she did!" Slate chuckles softly at thicket's movements...."That's right Thicket...feed the little one." Slate nods sadly. "I know...I was wrong." Winterblessing stays silent, "She's not going away?" Slate is silent for a moment..."I don't know..." he whispers softly. "That's why I want to go somewhere for a while...a trip to a place far away where there are no humans..." Winterblessing's eyes widen, "Thwicket comes too!" she whispers shrilly. Slate looks at thicket...."What if she doesn't want to go?" Thicket appears captivated by the simple small task of feeding the wolf cub. Moonlight, perhaps taking this as much as a game as a meal, alternates between gobbling down bits of meat and nibbling and licking at Thicket's fingers. Winterblessing sulks. "Then I won't go." Slate nods slowly...then turns to Thicket. "thicket..." he says quietly. "Would you come to Sorrow's end with us for a while?" Thicket doesn't lift her head, as she watches Moonlight yap once, fiercely, and tackle another shred of deer-flesh. Slate locksends ** Will you come? ** Thicket blinks, as if just noticing an itch. Thicket looks slowly up, brow furrowed. Winterblessing looks at Thicket expectantly, "Pwease? Winterblessing discards Brownie and hops(yes, hops) over to Thicket, beaming up at her. "Pwease? No more hoomans!" Winterblessing pleads, bouncing up and down. Thicket blinks once, then twice, glancing from Slate to his cub and back again, slowly. Confusion flickers in the old she-elf's gaze. Winterblessing, of course, has no idea _where_ Slate wants to go, but thinks a change in scenery would be nice. But.. "You come with us, please??" Slate says "Yes thicket...will you come with us to Sorrow's end?" Winterblessing bounces, "Please??" Thicket opens her mouth, then closes it, struggling with a thought, perhaps. Slate says "please, thicket?" Slate says "Moonlight can come too..." Thicket says at last, slowly and disorientedly, "Thic... ket." At the sound of her voice, the wolf-cub yaps. Winterblessing nods happily, grinning widely. "You can come! Pleasae??" Winterblessing looks at you for a moment. Slate gasps softly...She talked. "yes...thicket." he repeats, leaning forward a little, but hissing as his leg throbs in protest. "Will you come?" Thicket repeats, forehead still crinkled, eyes troubled, "Thic...ket? Thicket." Winterblessing nods, "That's your name, Thwicket." Slate nods and sits back to watch again...he'll ask again in a moment. Thicket's mouth slowly moves, shaping the syllables of her own name again; they, like much has seemed to as of late, seem to baffle her deeply. Finally, eying Moonlight, who climbs promptly up into her lap at the attention, she says gruffly, "Thicket. Wolf." He sits near, but a respectful distance. "he's your wolf, thicket...he's your bond." he says quietly. "Will you come with us? Winterblessing hops up and down. "Yes! come with us to Sorrow's end, Thwicket!" Thicket awkwardly reaches to encircle Moonlight with her gaunt arms, then looks back to Slate, still appearing confused; her eyes crinkle more noticeably at the word 'come'. Slate nods..."come..." come to safety...come to someplace new...someplace other than here. [To be continued....]