Log Date: 11/9/95
Log Intro: During the Festival of Flood and Flower, Strongbow of Lostholt
has spent a fair amount of his time staying out of the way -- aware of
the powerful, heady magic the combined presence of seven healers has been
pumping into the air, which oddly lightens his heart, but that same
heady magic has been wrestling with hints of strife for his tribe. Lostholt
knows that of all elves, Rayek is present in the village, and despite
his apparent efforts to stay hidden from sight, his presence is causing
emotional headaches for Cutter and Leetah, which the archer cannot help but
know. And if that wasn't bad enough, the Glider Sar has also been in the
village, and his abrupt departure with a blind Cavedweller, Whitling,
apparently to deliver her to Winnowill, has caused a young friend of
Strongbow's to anxiously send to him for help. Despite learning that Whitling's
departure with Sar is apparently voluntary, Strongbow is nevertheless
bothered by the news.

And Rillwhisper of the Willowholt has been experiencing much the same
internal struggle. Arguably more aware of Rayek's status than Strongbow, for
her own lifemate Trollkiller has spent a night with the brownskinned
magic-maker, trying to provide him comfort, Rillwhisper is nevertheless
only indirectly troubled by that elf. But Sar has caused her tribe somewhat
more obvious anguish, for Rillwhisper's other lifemate's child, Jasmael,
claims that Sar kidnapped her out of Blue Mountain and is responsible for
the death of her daughter. It has given Rillwhisper headaches, too, trying
to question Sar to get his side of the story, while juggling that with
the news that the Underworld is looking for her tribe's adoptees Talek
and Sorrow, and with keeping Jasmael and the rest of her tribe as entertained 
by the Festival as possible.

Rillwhisper has noticed, with some gentle regret as it has been some
turns of the seasons since her last meeting with her close friend and
near-soul-brother Strongbow, the archer's discreet absence. Tracking him
up to the campfire ridge that overlooks the Sun Village, the same ridge
where Strongbow's own tribe once Howled during their sojourn in the
desert haven, the chieftess takes him water and chides him gently for
staying exposed to the Daystar's light and heat. Strongbow amusedly
tells her that he likes it, there; Rillwhisper settles down with him, hoping
for some time to simply be with her friend, but to her disappointment
they are interrupted by Starstreak's sending to Strongbow about Sar's
departure....

----------
Campfire Ledge
A wide level ledge atop a hill covered with tumbled boulders. Here the 
  wolfriders come to meet, for Howls and Storytelling alike. Under the open 
  sky, they can see the stars and gather around the campfire. The bright 
  tangles of the Waterfall begin to come out as the dimming red light of 
  sunset fills the hot summer skies.
There is a hint of rare moisture in the air, and a sense of expectancy in the 
  dry, dusty land.
Contents:
Strongbow
Obvious exits:
Boundary path<DN

After too long of pacing, sending, and grimacing, the archer sighs. ** She's 
  out of range, ** he mutters, not angrily. He'd like to have had a chance to 
  better clear the cub's head of Sar's garbage, even if the encounter she'd 
  had with him _had_ been otherwise harmless. After a moment, Strongbow steps 
  back toward the rock and the growing shade it provides, crouching down -- 
  elbows on knees -- to look, glimmereyed, at you. ** Cubs. **

Rillwhisper grins a bit, though her gaze is slightly wistful. But she 
  chuckles. "We were all cubs, once."
Rillwhisper suddenly laughs, softly, looking you up and down.

A hint of a smile, also wistful, crosses the archer's face. He sits back down 
  and puts his back to the rock, looking sidelong at you. ** Too long ago, 
  maybe, ** he agrees.

Rillwhisper, still laughing a bit, offers a conjectured image of a stern-eyed 
  little boy-cub with a headband. It starts looking mostly like Woodhawk, 
  until she tweaks it a bit, making the hair closer to violet.

Strongbow raises a brow a bit at the laugh, and raises the other one at the 
  image. He seems to be fighting laughter with a stern face, then corrects the 
  image; a slim little boy-cub in a headband, yes, but not so stern...standing 
  askew a bit, limbs too long and slightly beyond their bearer's control, 
  lending themselves to not-quite landings in trees and a humourously gangly 
  stance. Perhaps memory exaggerates.

Rillwhisper valiantly restrains an impulse to go 'Awwwwww', but she does 
  smile, gently amused. "So you can remember...I'm glad, I don't want to 
  forget..."
Rillwhisper chuckles a bit, and offers another image: this one, however, 
  seems more memories of a state of being, rather than a true image. Being 
  much shorter than everyone else; her hand barely big enough to encircle an 
  adult's fingers; bare feet in a running stream. Being Runnel.

Strongbow's eyes show the smile without restraint this time, wry. ** If you 
  had Bearclaw to remember it for you, you _couldn't_ forget. ** Perhaps that 
  would explain the humor of his own image...the archer tilts his head a bit, 
  hair sheening in the sunlight, and considers your send. He'd had 
  something...joyful? curious, bouncing bright, all newleaf green sparkle-eyed 
  in his mind. He takes your image from within and meshes it, hesitantly, with 
  his own...perhaps hopefully.

Rillwhisper blinks, and tilts her head, gently curious, not sure what her 
  archer-friend and soul-brother quite intends, but not at all afraid of 
  finding out. <Runnel squints at the boy, but, being an investigative lass to 
  begin with -- after all, there are so many fascinating streams and puddles 
  to jump into in the wood -- she answers the hesitant reaching with welcome.>

Strongbow's eyes glimmer more brightly, brownly, at that. That curiousity 
  _is_ native in his companion, then. <Lanky and, apparently, more easily 
  embarrassed then than now, the boy-cub looks aside, then back, grinning 
  openly until he remembers hhimself and tightens his jaw. Come hunt with me, 
  his eyes invite, twitching with youth.>

Rillwhisper smiles, and leans closer, eyes drifting a bit shut.

Strongbow leans back against the rock and slips an arm around you, 
  protectively, comfortingly. It's been a rough Festival...treasure the moment.

You locksend ** <Barefoot Runnel pauses in the stream she's currently 
  investigating. She's a wispy, delicate little thing, not very tall, and most 
  of her is damp from water, but she doesn't seem to mind -- for it's summer, 
  and the water is pleasant and cool in the summer heat. Her eyes are 
  positively enormous, guileless, wondering, and green as a new leaf. 'Okay! 
  What do you want to hunt?'> ** to Strongbow.

Trollkiller climbs up the path from the Boundary Path below.
Trollkiller has arrived.

Fhen climbs up the path from the Boundary Path below.
Fhen has arrived.

Trollkiller blinks. ** Oh! Hi. **

Fhen sends openly ** Hi. **

Rillwhisper sits with Strongbow; his arm is curled around her, and the two 
  seem to be sending.

Strongbow rfs softly and looks up over the boulder at the others, nodding 
  with silent greeting before returning to a send that, for some 
  incomprehensible reason, has his eyes glittering with inward laughther.

Rillwhisper blinkblinks, mouth quirking with just a hint of irritation before 
  she realizes who has come in, and her expression relaxes. But she doesn't 
  move from the archer's arm -- more comfortable to lean against than a rock. 
  She smiles quirkily. "Beloved... Fhen."

Trollkiller sends openly ** Don't mind us, we're just trying to find the hot 
  springs... **

[Dusk is being spoofed by her father, Trollkiller.]

Dusk bounces! ** Springs! Springs! **

Rillwhisper chuckles softly. "Hmmm... not sure... anyone about who lives 
  here, that you could ask?" She smiles to the eager cub.

Strongbow chuckles in sending. ** The garden, ** he offers, mostly certain.

Trollkiller ahs. ** Okay, that makes sense... I think I saw that... **

Dusk runs that way immediately, bouncing down the rocks.

Rillwhisper's gaze brightens a bit, too, as she looks at Dusk, and then she 
  looks sidelong at Strongbow, amused and expectant.

Strongbow locksends ** <Bare-ankled and bare-legged above tiny bootlets, the 
  boy-cub grins again. He chews his lip, unaware of himself for a brief 
  instant, considering. ** Ravvit? ** he offers, hopefully, shifting his 
  awkward little bow on awkward little shoulder. **
Strongbow looks aside at Rillwhisper, sending for a flash of a moment, then 
  smirks slightly after Dusk and at Trollkiller in general.

Trollkiller heads down the path after Fhen. ** Have fun - tho' I don't need 
  to tell _you_ two that... **
Trollkiller steps away from the circle and back out onto Lookout Ridge.
Trollkiller has left.

Fhen steps away from the circle and back out onto Lookout Ridge.
Fhen has left.

Strongbow makes a mockingly sour face after Trollkiller, then smirks back at 
  you.

Rillwhisper leans comfortably against you, not ready to break this communion 
  yet, and sorely tempted to pretend to be asleep should anyone else show up. 
  Her eyes drift entirely shut, and a smile softens her mouth as she sends.

You locksend ** <Runnel nods sagely, and whispers confidingly, as you have to 
  be quiet when you hunt, right?, "Don't have a bow, so I better get some 
  rocks." She leans over and plucks a few water-smoothed stones out of the 
  stream, beams at them, and comes splashing to shore -- completely forgetting 
  the need to be quiet, but after all, she DOES have her treasures! She holds 
  them up with satisfaction.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <The archer youth grins at the rocks, and nears the 
  stream, picking up some stones himself. Perhaps he's not so confident in his 
  bowmanship yet? He tucks the rocks, chosen for flatness, into his leathern 
  belt, and puts his nose to the air, standing all askew, perfectly still save 
  for one twitching hand on his bowstring. He hasn't really ever tried to 
  track a ravvit before...someone's always found it for him to practice on. 
  Hmm. This could be hard...his brows furrow slightly.> **
Strongbow mms softly and leans his head down a bit, narrowing his eyes 
  comfortably, keeping a dim watch over the little plateau.

You locksend ** <Seeming rather more fascinated with a particularly 
  intricately swirled rock, Runnel beams at that and squirrels it away into a 
  pocket to keep. Then she looks up at the taller cub, then bounces, and sends 
  proudly -- ah! she remembered to be quiet! -- ** I know where there's a 
  warren 'cause I found it! Wanna see? **> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow's lips quirk a bit upwards at the corners.
Strongbow locksends ** <The boy-cub's eyes brighten and he turns his gaze 
  from midair back to the lass nearby. ** Yes! ** he returns, gladly, 
  excitably, finger twitchtwitchtwitching upon the bowstring with a soft 
  thwupping sound.> **

You locksend ** <She beams... and darts off, in a flash of bright pale hair, 
  upstream. Oh! Puckernuts, supposed to be quiet... then she slows to a more 
  sedate pace, but waves energetically all the same. ** This way! C'mon! **> ** 
  to Strongbow.
You locksend ** <And with that, she vanishes right into the foliage, dropping 
  to her hands and knees and crawling briskly through a pair of bushes. **> to 
  Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <The beaming young archer stops beaming to chew his 
  lip. After a moment, he drops to his knees and follows, not as good at being 
  quiet on all fours, since he has more limbs to trip over that way, and no 
  length to make his strides cover territory with. He does his best, though, 
  following your sound and scent as much as your visual trail. His bow tries 
  to catch on leaves and take them along, adding to the general noise. ** 
  Slower! ** he sputters, a branch flying from his bow into his hair and 
  tangling.> **
Strongbow's gaze scans the horizon where the rock meets the dimming sky, 
  silent, barely seeing the desert stone through the images of leaves and 
  branches chased through on the trail of the ravvit seekers.

You locksend ** <Affably, she sends back, ** 'Kay, ** and slows a bit. Her 
  path finally emerges into a sheltered glade, and she freezes, mouth forming 
  a slight 'o'. Ravvit-scent! She grins happily. ** Can you smell 'em? **> ** 
  to Strongbow.
You locksend ** <She points a miniscule finger out across the clover-strewn 
  glade... a place for ravvits, indeed. Wide enough that the little creatures 
  could have space to escape predators if they got a chance, yet filled with 
  many green growing things for ravvit teeth to nibble. And off under one big 
  tree, there can be spotted between roots tiny holes, that may well hide 
  ravvit dens.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He grins, sending silent assent, as if the prey 
  itself might hear sending. Listening, he carefully brings himself to more of 
  a crouch and less of a kneel, slightly more stable that way, and more able 
  to consider using his bow. ** You must be a good tracker, ** he 
  sendwhispers.> **

You locksend ** <She blushes brightly, and just barely stifles a giggle. ** 
  Uh-uh... I just found this place before and I remembered it, 'cause it's 
  pretty... ** And she hunkers down in the clover, trying to look 
  inconspicuous.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He shakes his head a bit and takes his bow off of his 
  shoulder. Always be prepared, the huntleaders say, so he slowly pulls an 
  arrow from his little quiver while he has the chance to make the soft noise, 
  like wind in the brush, without startling the prey, a bit behind and to the 
  side of the smaller cub.> **

You locksend ** <The wind is favorable. And after a time, from one of the 
  holes, comes a tiny furred nose, twitching. ** to Strongbow.

You locksend ** <Runnel's eyes go round, ooh, there's one now. She watches the 
  creature poke its nose and then its head up and out of the hole, sniffing at 
  the ear, large floppy ears twitching too. A big rabbit, soft-furred, brown.>
  ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <Glitteringly sharp brown eyes catch the motion as well 
  as the green glimmering ones. ** Good one, ** he murmurs, nocking the arrow 
  as softly as he can, arm held so carefully at that angle he's been taught to 
  avoid leathers making noise. He pauses, though. ** Maybe better to hit it 
  with a rock...not to ruin the skin? **> **

You locksend ** <Runnel's dainty nose wrinkles as she watches the ravvit hop, 
  sniffsniff, hop, nibble, hop. It's kind of cute, actually! She nibbles at 
  her lip, but her friend asked her to hunt, so she's gonna hunt, don't want 
  him to make fun of her! ** I'll try, ** she sends tinily, and fumbles a hand 
  into her pocket where she stashed the rocks.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He nods silently, pulling back on the arrow. If it 
  startles, he might be able to make one shot, pelt or no pelt, before it 
  scatters...> **

You locksend ** <She considers, then, holding up the rock she's chosen and 
  squints one eye shut, trying to aim. Here goes! She throws with all her 
  might; her rock sails out in a wide arc, and lands, *ploff*, in the clover. 
  The ravvit jerks up its head, alerted.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <The archer-cub starts a bit, himself, and hurriedly 
  takes aim, arm too stiff with sudden anxiety. He waits for the slightest 
  hint that the ravvit will take the rock's landing as anything more 
  disturbing than that....perhaps if he is very, very still...> **

You locksend ** <Nope! The ravvit turns tail, fluffy backside flashing, and 
  starts to bolt... beside the little archer, Runnel eeps, and isn't sure 
  whether to gasp or try to throw a rock again or try to jump or chase or what 
  -- oh, puckernuts!> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <The arrow flies, true to its target. Unfortunately, 
  that target is now devoid of ravvit, and the arrow's head lodges firmly in 
  the dirt beneath the clover. ** After it! ** the young hunter urges, moving 
  himself. Maybe if it can be scared enough, it will take out running instead 
  of diving down its hole.> **

You locksend ** <She scrambles to her bare feet and gives chase! Seconds, if 
  that, between the prey and its hole....> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <Leaping on lanky legs that, for this, are an 
  advantage, the would-be-archer springs forward more than runs, bounding out 
  through the clover toward the ravvit's retreating hindside. The elfcub's 
  hands fly out as he dives, reaching for a stray leg or fluffy tail.> **

You locksend ** <Snagged! It must have been a grand burst of speed and a sharp 
  eye, for the lad's hand closes on its target. That target, however, is now 
  terrified, and it writhes in its captor's grasp, thudding with powerful back 
  feet, and trying to bite.> ** to Strongbow.

You locksend ** <Runnel eeps! and charges up, but looks rather startled, as 
  she hadn't been given to understand that you could catch stuff by hand, at 
  least, not ravvits! "Look out!" she cries, pipingly, brandishing a little 
  rock. Maybe she can stun it? She throws, but misses.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <Sending at his companion, ** Again, don't worry for 
  me! ** the lean cub struggles to hang on, getting his other hand out to try 
  to catch another furry extremity, wincing at snapping teeth and shaking the 
  ravvit by his bare grasp every time those teeth graze or pinch his skin.> **

You locksend ** <Her eyes turn liquid; he can't be serious! What if she hits 
  him? Not really liking this idea anymore, she aims another rock and throws, 
  just as the ravvit, a front leg caught, seizes the opportunity to aim its 
  teeth at the tender young side of the hand that's grabbing it.> ** to 
  Strongbow.

Rillwhisper hugs you a little, impulsively, perhaps caught up in her 
  cub-self's sudden worry.

Strongbow locksends ** <The boy-cub lets out a yip! at that and, 
  instinctively, looses his grasp, fur slipping between his fingers. Even as 
  he does so, he growls at himself, grasping out with the other hand. He'll be 
  a human's lunch if he'll let himself fail so badly in front of a new friend! 
  A drop of blood, unnoticed, splatters on a clover leaf from the side of his 
  wounded hand. ** Hit it! ** he sends, mindvoice not angry, just wild with 
  the scent of hunt and prey.> **

You locksend ** <Runnel uncertainly hurls another rock, but this is her last 
  one! It flies, and strikes, but awfully close to the lad's _other_ hand....>
  ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow curls his arm more tightly about you, his own eyes closed now, 
  breath a little abbreviated.

You locksend ** <The ravvit, dazed, but still panicked, thrashes.... ** to 
  Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <Apparently less worried about the strike of a rock 
  than another nip from those ravvit-teeth, the archer-cub grabs for the 
  ravvit's ear. If he can shake it once, hard, like a wolf with prey in its 
  mouth...> **

You locksend ** <As Runnel runs up anxiously, the ravvit, head tossing, gnaws 
  out for a finger!> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He flinches back, avoiding more than a pinch of skin 
  between teeth, a bit afraid of the biting now. The touch of the ravvit's jaw 
  on his hand makes him, if anything other than afraid, angry; his eyes darken 
  a bit and he reaches out both hands, rising up a bit as if to pin the beast 
  to the ground. **
Strongbow starts a bit at the ravvit's lunge, but quiets, deep in the sharing, 
  as if in a dream.

You locksend ** <Charged by panic as well as pain, the ravvit -- a big buck 
  male -- is desperate to break free. Its back feet thud furiously at young 
  archer arms, and its front feet slash with small but not dismissable claws. 
  With a mighty twist -- it leaps free.> ** to Strongbow.

You locksend ** <Runnel yelps and tries to leap, but the creature is gone with 
  a flurry of tail down the shelter of its hole. The little lass oofs, landing 
  awkwardly in the clover.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He leans back as his forearms are scratched by sharp, 
  tiny claws, lifting his hands in disgust. A streak of blood trails his arm 
  from the bite on the side of his hand, down to his elbow; yet, the wound 
  isn't apparently threatening. ** You all right? ** he asks, eyeing the hole 
  with a soft scowl.> **

You locksend ** <Runnel clambers to her feet, and pouts a little, looking down 
  at a skinned knee. "I'm, um, I'm okay," she says a little shakily. "Are you 
  okay too?"> ** to Strongbow.
You locksend ** <She pads hesitantly over, blushing, not sure whether she's 
  more disappointed that the ravvit escaped, or that she didn't get to impress 
  her new friend. But then, she catches the scent of fresh blood, and she 
  squeaks in shock.> ** to Strongbow.
Rillwhisper's fingers reach for the much older version of the hand that got 
  bitten, and clasp it gently.

Strongbow locksends ** <The lad nods wordlessly, peering at the bite. It'll 
  scar, perhaps, if he doesn't take it to a healer, but the blood is slowing 
  its flow down his arm. ** Didn't know ravvits bit, ** he mutters, 
  disgruntledly. ** Need to wash it. **> **
Strongbow squeezes your hand gently with his own, the muscle twitching a bit, 
  as if expecting pain that doesn't come. He hugs you softly round the 
  shoulders with his other arm, breath calming and deepening.

You locksend ** <Runnel's eyes turn liquid again; she's frightened by the 
  sight of the blood, but she'll be brave! She suggests, "Back inna stream?">
  ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He smiles a bit at his young companion, rising to his 
  feet. ** Yes, ** he agrees, and lopes angularly over to get his arrow out of 
  the ground.> **

You locksend ** <Worriedly, she treads through the clover back to the track 
  she'd followed in to this place, and worriedly, she frowns. Can he follow 
  her through there if his hand's hurt? Blinking, thinking he looks upset, she 
  blurts, "You're not mad?"> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He looks up, retrieved arrow in one hand. ** No, ** he 
  shrugs. ** I missed. ** It's just short of an apology, more like a statement 
  of fact. He looks through the underbrush at the way they came, wondering if 
  he can make that in a crouch, or three-pawed.> **

You locksend ** <Runnel peers at her friend, squinting. Is he embarrassed that 
  he missed? It's hard to tell. "I missed too," she offers sheepishly, and 
  starts to hang her head. "I don't hunt very good...." She waits, then, by 
  the hole into the leaves, and when her companion catches up, she creeps 
  out.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He manages a limping crawl, on two knees and one hand, 
  using his wounded hand to keep the bow out of the brush. It goes no faster 
  than before, but seems no more difficult, either. ** 'S all right. You 
  tracked it. We could try again sometime... **> **

You locksend ** <She crawls along, and emerges at last out onto the 
  streambank, but waits for her friend to join her, to stand out in the free 
  space, before she shyly leads him to the waterside. Something about her 
  shape seems to flicker a little, making her seem taller, maybe, as she asks 
  softly, "C'n I help?"> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <The lad's brows furrow a bit as he watches his young 
  companion. Something's different...? He nods, voiceless, and kneels at the 
  water, dipping his hand in. Blood from his arm and the side of his hand 
  melts into the stream, streaking quickly away into the current and fading. 
  He lifts his hand again and peers round his arm at it. ** Does it look bad? 
  **> **

You locksend ** <Runnel dabs her fingers in the water, and gently touches the 
  hand near the hurt place, as if perhaps hoping to convey some sort of 
  healing through contact with the stream. "Not too much," she offers, 
  relievedly, and then looks up, or, rather, over, for she seems tall as the 
  boy, now, with her face filled with gentle worry. "You'll be okay."> ** to 
  Strongbow.
Rillwhisper nestles close, breathing even now, deep in the contact. A slight 
  worried look on her face begins to ease.

Strongbow locksends ** <The lad looks down at the wound, and smiles faintly at 
  your touch. The scrapes on his arms mostly unworthy of worry, he drops his 
  arm, forgetting his wounds, and shifts his shoulders, which seem to have 
  broadened ever so slightly. For the first time since meeting the huntress 
  before him, he crosses his arms and spreads his feet a bit further apart, 
  looking strangely solemn. ** It was...fun, ** he murmurs, a bit wistful.> **

You locksend ** <And her voice sounds a little odd, too, getting lower, even 
  as she says admiringly, "I wouldn'ta grabbed it with my hands...! You're 
  very brave, I bet you're gonna be a really good hunter someday!" She pauses, 
  tilts her head, and asks, "Wanna go find a healer?" as her shape ripples, 
  oddly indistinct.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He frowns a bit, throwing his hair back...when did he 
  get so much of it? One unruly, thick lock falls forward over the headband, 
  shadowing his gaze. ** Maybe...the skin might get sick, ** he considers. His 
  jaw tenses, tendons down the side of his neck standing out for a moment. He 
  is still, but despite it seems less tangible than a moment ago.> **
Strongbow lifts his hand from yours enough to run gentle fingers over yours, 
  then clasp softly once more. He sighs a little.

You locksend ** <She thinks about this. "I know where a bunch of 'em are, but 
  it's awfully noisy there. I like it quiet." Is she taller? Yes... and her 
  shape different, too, gaining curves in odd places.> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He looks away, apparently not having much interest in 
  noisy places himself. He looks back at his hunt-companion then, slightly 
  downwards once more, sprouting in that ungainly boy-cub way. ** It can wait, 
  ** he shrugs, lithely, gracefully, his torso the right length for his limbs 
  at last. As an afterthought, he queries, ** A noisy place...? Where? **> **

You locksend ** <A maiden, she is still nevertheless Runnel, wide-eyed and 
  curious, despite her new height and curves. Incongruous with her delicate 
  form, she gives a mischievous giggle, and gestures with a slender hand 
  airily out towards the wood. "Out there somewhere... it sparkles a lot, 
  too."> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He chews the corner of his lip, the other side of his 
  mouth twitching a bit in amusement. ** Oh... ** He tilts his head a bit, 
  gaze glittering. ** Will you hunt with me again...? ** The wordless 
  intonation is that of "later...ever?" His eyes narrow a bit, as does his 
  mouth.> **

You locksend ** <She pauses, head slanted slightly, and a brief flash of 
  disappointment flickers across her eyes; she senses... something, about her 
  companion, a closing-off, a shielding, that comes with his added height. 
  With _hers_ comes an odd deepening to her gaze. In one particular instant, 
  she catches her breath, as if startled, and her attention diverts inward; 
  about her glimmers hints of cool-green-water-shade, of music, of wolf-song 
  and stream-song. Then, eyes newly knowing, she sends softly, ** I would like 
  that... I would like to come back... **> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <If the lad's eyes close off, something else about him 
  seems to broaden, and it's not his arm muscles alone. Distant, not within, 
  but without, for an instant, he seems torn; in a moment, his eyes refocus 
  with the hint of a smile, perhaps pride. He unfolds his arms and looks at 
  you, for a heartbeat breathing in rhythm with you, the wood, and the hunt. 
  ** As would I... ** But from that breath on, something of him is always 
  elsewhere.> **

You locksend ** <As if drawn by that elsewhereness, she steps closer and lifts 
  a hand, almost as if intending to grasp yours... but here, in this wood, she 
  doesn't quite _completely_ touch you, seeming to sense a need, whether hers 
  or yours is uncertain, for a hair's breadth of distance. Her head -- crowned 
  now by a riot of red-gold waves -- tilts slightly, as if she might lean it 
  against your shoulder, if she were only a hint closer. ** We'll come back... 
  **> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <His eyes relax a bit, his mouth twitching with the 
  held clue of a smile. He steps a bit forward, not breaking the distance 
  entirely, but so close; the smile fades, then, as he looks through his 
  hunting companion, or inward, ache's shadow crossing his deepening brown 
  gaze. He folds his arms again, unconsciously putting up a stronger barrier 
  despite the closer stance, and closes his eyes for a moment just longer than 
  a blink. When he sees the maiden before him once more, he is aged by 
  something stronger than time, something more sure and swift. After a moment, 
  he nods, now sure of it. ** We will. ** He unfolds his arms again, at a 
  loss.> **

You locksend ** <Her form begins to fade, strangely. A shadow of a tied lock 
  flickers atop her head, and she glances, resigned, up at it... but gives you 
  a smile all the same, a smile of sympathy, kinship, shared experience. Only 
  her eyes remain truly distinct, grey-green-golden, as she lifts her hand to 
  the barrier but not past it, a she-wolf respecting the bounds of territory. 
  Her final sending is barely a whisper before it, and her luminous gaze, 
  vanish with the soul-wood: ** And we won't forget.... **> ** to Strongbow.

Strongbow locksends ** <He watches you vanish, unmoving, eyes gentling, 
  perhaps too late for you to see...and something in him, somewhere in 
  wolfsong, settles in...to wait.> **

[End log.]