Log Date: January 1995 Log Background: At some time during his seventeenth turn of the season, young Fhen of the Willowholt, son of Chitter and Duskshadow, and erstwhile 'surrogate son' of Rillwhisper, departed his home to search for his long-absent mother. The journey took longer than he expected, however, for Fhen stumbled across a hidden valley wherein resided a fair of Preservers. This valley, too, was rife with odd flowers that lulled the senses... and so Fhen, thusly lulled, was wrapped up by the little creatures. He slept on, through one of the times the valley was discovered again by wandering elves; Starwing (then Clearsight) of the Plainsrunners and her mate Blackmorn never discovered the place in the valley where Fhen was hidden. A third wanderer, however, did. This wanderer was Thicket... a weathered, wandering huntress of the blood of the Scattered Tribe, who fell into the valley when she was separated from her wolf in the mists that wreathed the place. She did not find the resident Preservers alarming - until she found that they had found her wolf FarRoamer, and wrapped him up. Her attempts to free her bond-friend resulted in the inadvertant discovery of a second cocoon. This in turn alarmed the Preservers - who lightly wrapped Thicket to a nearby tree, to keep her from disturbing their wrapstuff. And with that..... ---------- The eternal twilight of the copse has deepened slightly, signaling the arrival of night. Thicket stirs slightly, groggily, where she is tied against the tree... something's wrong. She remembers... Thicket forces her eyes open with an effort, a tiny half-growl, half-whine in the back of her throat as she realizes she's pinned. Vaguely, she blinks, and coughs, peering out of the wrapstuff that has tied her head back against the trunk behind her. Thicket peers out... nighttime. But her eyes are used to darkness, and she doesn't see any of the small winged creatures here. Maybe she can get free... she begins to struggle against the sticky bonds holding her. She's mostly pinned... but there's a little bit of leniency in the webbing, just enough to give her space to move. With an effort, after several minutes, she gets a hand free... and as time passes, an arm. That allows her greater progress... till at last, dazed, dizzy, still covered with random bits of the silvery stuff, she stumbles away from her prison. Thicket looks around warily... are the little winged things here? The intoxicating scent of the flowers still hangs heavily in the air, and her thoughts are slow and fogged as she takes stock of her situation. But the copse is quiet. Thicket fumbles till at last she finds her knife... and her eyes narrow, as she peers through the gloom at the nearby cocoon she remembers spotting, before the bugs had wrapped her. Thicket, as silently as her twisted ankle will allow her, edges towards the nearly-hidden shape in the leaves. She sniffs... but any scent that might tell her what's in that wrapping is buried by the overwhelming odor of the greenery. She scowls... and at last, slowly, silently, brings forth her flint knife to start sawing at the strands. She doesn't know what's imprisoned within - but she knows she doesn't like the idea of anything being caught in this sticky stuff. Fhen slowly blinks his eyes. Thicket pauses, stifling a gasp as she clears wrapping away from - a face. An elf? She frowns, and increases her efforts. Fhen squints as he looks up at something he hasn't seen for quite some time, another face. Thicket's going is slow, as the wrapstuff clings to her flint knife. But the knowledge that the bugs - whatever they are - have trapped another elf here dismays her. Her eyes glint in the gloom. Fhen tries to move his muscles, but they're stiff from not being used. Thicket at last, though, sends a thread of curiosity, to see if the elf is alive - and to keep the bugs from hearing. ** You. Elf. Awake? ** Her mindtone is gruff and brusque. Thicket as she sends works as quietly as possible, and her gaze keeps darting through the darkness as if she expects her tiny winged assailants to reappear at any moment. Fhen sends openly ** What? *mumbles* ** Thicket gives a small short nod; good, this one can send. ** Trapped. Cutting you loose. Leave soon. ** Fhen mumbles something about wondering how long he's been there. Thicket's brow furrows; she sends a terse sense of not-knowing, but mingled with the certainty that she needs to get you loose. She works on freeing your shoulder, now. Fhen moans as if he's in pain. He tries moving again, but fails. Thicket sends openly ** Free you. Then free wolf. Ride away. ** Thicket frowns at you. ** Hurt? ** Fhen sends openly ** Who? ** Thicket sends, almost too bluntly for her communication to be words, ** Thicket. You, hurt? ** She scowls as her slightly unsteady hand makes the flint blade slip across the wrapstuff without ripping it. Fhen has a far-off look in his eyes. He stares off into space. Fhen sends openly ** No, don't think so. Can't move. ** Thicket sends openly ** Wrapstuff. Cutting it. ** Fhen sends openly ** Where wolfie? ** Thicket resumes trying to free your arms, and blinks at you. ** Have wolf? ** Fhen nods weakly. Thicket scowls at this, and thinks... ** Not seen other wolf. Probably wrapped. Hairballs... ** She shakes her head as if to clear it, still irritated at the fuzziness in her thoughts, but with renewed vigor she at last clears enough of the wrapstuff that you can start wriggling an arm. She hopes. Fhen tries to move his right arm. He cringes in pain. ** It hurts to move. ** Thicket frowns at you, not understanding, as she looks from your face to the wrapstuff. It didn't hurt HER... she pauses in her sawing. ** Wrapstuff hurting? ** Fhen sends openly ** Arm hurts when I move it. Feels tight. ** Thicket looks bothered by this, as she tries to free your other arm. ** Must move. Bugs'll return... ** Fhen sends openly ** Trying to move. I think I can. ** Thicket nods approvingly. ** Get you free. Get FarRoamer, too. Your wolf: where? ** Fhen sends openly ** She must be near. She never go far from me. ** Off in the gloom of the copse, there comes a rustle - followed by a high-pitched voice crying, /Eep! Nononono! Nastybad highthing no break wrapstuff!/ Fhen sends openly ** What's that? ** Thicket freezes, a snarl rumbling in her throat. Then, she attempts to free you with redoubled haste, as a tiny winged shape flits into view. The little blue winged creature latches onto Thicket's hair, crying, /Nonononono! No take wrapping off highthing! Highthing must stay safesnugsleepydreamy!/ The frantic voice seems to cause a stir, as from a portion of the copse a flurry of rustlings emerges. Three more of the creatures arrive, all chattering anxiously. /No take our highthing!/ /No break wrapstuff!/ /Nastybad funnyankle highthing!/ One of the things lands on Fhen's chest and says plaintively, /Wethings keep highthing safesnug! Highthing remember? Feed treesweets and juiceberries!/ Thicket snarls, swinging her knife at the creatures. "Go," she growls. "Go away. Taking the cub." Fhen says "Treesweets?" While two of the winged creatures tug at Thicket's hair and hands, the one sitting on him giggles! it flits off briefly, and returns with a big, brightly hued mushroom. /Looksee! Is treesweet!/ It adds, /Highthing hungry? We feed! We fetch sparklewaters!/ Fhen says "So hungry." Thicket swipes at the Preserver on the wrapped elf, ordering it, "He doesn't need your help. Go." Fhen sends openly ** I'm hungry. ** The Preserver thbptpttbptts at Thicket, declaring, /Naughtybad highthing!/ And it spits wrapstuff at her eyes, as two more of the Preservers, knowing duty when they hear it, happily fetch the mushroom and hold it up for their nice wrapped highthing. /We feed nice highthing! Fetch beesweets to put in softpretty hair, yes?/ Thicket growls as she's blinded, and works on plucking the stuff out of her eyes as she tries to strike her tiny attacker. Fhen slowly reaches up to take the mushroom. The Preservers coo approvingly, as Thicket finally frees her eyes - angry, remembering that the creatures pulled THIS trick before. As she blinks, four more Preservers arrive, a big golden one in the elad. HoneyGold eeps! as it flits into view, and flits circles around Thicket's head. /Nononono! Highthing no go 'way! Naughtybad highthing no break wrapstuff!/ Fhens head starts spinning as he sees all the colors flitting around him. Thicket snarls, "You wrapped a cub, I'm taking him." Her head more clear now, she swipes her knife angrily at any Preserver that comes near her. One, a nearly black-bodied one, tries to wrapstuff her again, but she gets in a strike at it, and sends it flying across the clearing. Some of the shyer Preservers scatter; the one with the mushroom feeds it to Fhen though! You locksend ** Cub! Can you move? ** to Fhen. Fhen locksends ** I think so. ** Thicket whirls back to Fhen, chasing the Preservers away from him, and insistedly slicing at the strands binding his legs. Her movements are indelicate; she's more interested in getting the captive mobile than getting all the wrapstuff off of him. Preservers flit and fly in the huntress's face; still snarling, she reaches to grab the tiniest one, a little rose-colored creature. It eeps! as her hand plucks it out of the air. Fhen tries stretching his arms out above his head. In doing so, he inadvertantly smacks a Preserver in the face. Thicket barks, "Go! Or I break this one!" In her hand, the tiny pink Preserver wails, and the threat seems to daunt the others. The golden one chatters scoldingly, but orders its companions back to rethink their plans. Thicket whirls, then, stiffly on her twisted ankle, and begins trying to free her wolf. Thicket's movements have stirred the flowers and branches here, though - and the thick, sweet scent of the pollen in the air grows heavier as the golden dust swirls around her. Thicket blinkblinks, and as her thoughts whirl a little, she clings more tightly to her tiny pink captive as she onehandedly works at sawing away at the wolf-sized cocoon. Fhen tries to sit up. He slowly moves himself into an upright position, cringing as his tight muscles are active for the first time in many turns. The green Preserver struck by the elf-youth's flying hand eeps, as it falls dazedly aside. It then shakes its head, and wails, /Awwww! No move, highthing! not be safesnug anymore!/ Fhen sends openly ** Where am I? ** The golden Preserver looks very worried, as it tries to figure out how to keep the highthings from leaving! /Awwwwww! Nonono go into the nastybad outsideplace! Is bigthings! Is not safe for highthings! HoneyGold knows!/ Thicket sends openly ** Valley. Don't know where. Don't care. Leaving. ** Thicket scowls at the Preserver as she barks, "Not safe for highthings here! You wrap things, bug!" Fhen looks around for his wolf, but doesn't find her. ** I don't see my wolfie. ** One or two of the Preservers flitter near Fhen worriedly. /Highthing okay?/ /We bring more treesweets? Juiceberries? Coolwaters?/ Thicket brandishes the terrified pink Preserver at HoneyGold. "His wolf. Where?" HoneyGold pouts, crossing its arms. /No tell noisybad highthing!/ Fhen swings his arms at the Preservers near him, nearly hitting them both. With tiny eeps, the little creatures scatter, disappointed. Fhen says "I want my wolfie." Thicket angrily snorts at HoneyGold and returns to onehandedly sawing at the cocoon. Eventually, a flank of pepper-grey fur can be seen, and the elfin female's weathered face shows a glimmer of relief. Thicket sends openly ** They wrapped your wolf. We'll find. ** Thicket coughs, not liking the taste of pollen in the air, here; her sending is slightly blurred around the edges, and she seems as if she's fighthing to stay alert and aware. Fhen pouts, and then glares at HoneyGold. "Where's my wolfie?" The look in his eyes is pure anger. HoneyGold meeps, as both highthings are angry at it. It hastily gathers its companions, and discourses with them in worried whispers. Finally, dejectedly, the little Preserver points to another corner of the copse. /Growler there. No go, highthings! Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase!/ Thicket's only reply is to start tugging her wolf out of the cocoon surrounding it. FarRoamer, dazedly, shakes his head, and yawns. FarRoamer has arrived. Fhen looks to where HoneyGold has pointed. He slowly gets up, stretching as he does so. Tiny disappointed cries sound - but as Thicket is still clinging angrily to the tiniest of the creatures, none of them dare to intercede. Wide-eyed, practically hidden in Thicket's hand, the pink Preserver cowers. Thicket sends openly ** Cub. Have knife? ** Fhen slowly walks over to the cocoon where his wolf lays sleeping. He looks back over his shoulder at the Preservers with a look of pure hatred. Fhen searches for a knife, but fails to find one. ** No, I don't. ** The little flock of creatures seems deflated by the boy's angry look. There are timid mutters of /Only want to have highthings safe and sound!/ FarRoamer shakes himself unsteadily, then yurfs, and snarls at the Preservers, starting to lunge. He's still shaky, though, and he lurches. Thicket wraps an arm about his ruff, and nuzzles him to let him know she's safe. Then, looking up, she passes the younger elf her flint blade. The Preservers eep at the angry wolf, and several hide beneath leaves. Fhen thanks Thicket and starts the process of freeing his wolf. Thicket looks FarRoamer all over, as if to make sure the wolf is unharmed. The wolf looks more annoyed and dazed than angry, but he shakes himself again, and sniffs distastefully at the frantic pink Preserver his elf still clings to. Fhen works very hurriedly at freeing his wolf. He manages to free her head. Willowpaw slowly wakes up and yawns. Thicket mutters, "Dull knife." Warily, she circles, making sure the bugs stay well away.... HoneyGold, realizing it can't keep the highthings here, awws, and hangs its small head. Thicket sends openly ** Wolf well? you well? ** Fhen continues to cut at the wrapstuff holding Willowpaw. He gets her forepaws free. Willowpaw stretches her front legs, then looks over at the Preservers and softly growls. Fhen sends openly ** Yes. We are well. ** FarRoamer flicks a glance at the new wolf, and his hackles raise alertly. Thicket keeps a hold on the beast, as he distrustfully snarls, but FarRoamer does not lunge. Thicket nods shortly to the younger elf, waiting. Most of the Preservers have retreated into the shadows... and with a sad look, HoneyGold follows them. Fhen saws through the last of the wrapstuff and frees Willowpaw's back legs. She runs around in a little circle, trying to work out all the kinks. She pads back over to Fhen, who buries his face in her fur. Willowpaw licks Fhen's face. Thicket doesn't quite smile, but there's a flicker of sympathy in her gaze as she watches the youth and his wolf. ** Leave now. Can't stay - makes you sleepy. ** Fhen nods. Thicket nudges her own wolf out of the copse. FarRoamer lopes out, his hackles still up as he looks for any sign of the Preservers. FarRoamer heads out of the copse. FarRoamer has left. Thicket sends openly ** You next. Thicket last. Leave now. ** Willowpaw heads out of the copse. Willowpaw has left. Fhen glares at the Preservers, taking one last look, and hoping he never has to see one again. Thicket releases the tiny pink Preserver, and limps after her wolf when she is sure the other elf is mobile enough to follow his wolf. Fhen heads out of the copse. Fhen has left. You leave the small copse, entering the marginally lighter meadow. Misty Valley This tiny hidden valley is nestled between the steep sides of three mountain peaks, all but unreachable from the outside world. White clouds drift above, curling around the mountaintops and blocking the valley from view from above. There is an eternal twilight down in the bottom, a soft silvery one. A small waterfall cascades down from one of the rocky sides of the valley, falling into a small pool from which flows a sparkling brook. The brook disappears into a small copse of dark green trees, evergreen and sheltering. A small berrypatch is on the other side of the brooklet, framing a miniature meadow filled with sweetly fragranced flowers. The warm night is sparsely lit by diffused moonlight that somehow penetrates the clouds above. Contents: Fhen Willowpaw FarRoamer(#4970a) Obvious exits: MountainPeak Berry patch Pool Copse Thicket looks relieved to be back into fresher air, as she sends, ** Up mountain. Out of valley. ** FarRoamer(#4970a) You're seated on the back of FarRoamer, with his lean, rough-furred flanks heaving slightly beneath you as he breathes and moves and runs. You swing up onto FarRoamer's back. Thicket gingerly settles on her lean wolf's back. ** Big water towards Sun-Goes-Down. Mountains towards Sun-Comes-Up. Holt near; I didn't go there. ** Thicket seems to grow slightly less feral as she is no longer being attacked; her sending grows less bruseque. Around FarRoamer, From Willowpaw's back, Fhen nods. ** Thank you for helping me and my wolfie. ** Thicket almost smiles, and nudges her wolf uphill. ** Follow. Can get lost, in mist. ** Misty Mountainpeak Thick, billowing clouds are all around you, despite the wind that always blows around the chilly, thin-aired mountaintop in gusts. The ground is rocky, and covered in tiny, sharp-edged pebbles that leave no tracks. The light is diffused by the mist, and all sounds muted and distorted. It is very hard to find your way. You stumble suddenly, and hear the clatter of a dislodged rock as it bounces down, down, down..ever fainter until there is silence..then a faint *splash* of water. You consider whether you want to follow the sound of 'water' or go 'back' the way you think you came from. The mist grows too dense to see anything beyond the billowing whiteness all around, but you feel the ground level under your feet. You must have reached the top. You head north along the trail. WolfHaven Trail The trail is overgrown with moss and soft pale grass, but the sandy soil shows the passage of footprints. Vine maple and alder crowd out the evergreens, but the occasional tall yellow pine lifts its head above the canopy of the forest to blink at the sun. Chokecherry and glossy leaved vines fill the underbrush and block the view only a few feet from the trail. The river is closer and though you cannot hear it yet, the scent of water is all around and the forest is lush with green growing things. You can go south towards the Wolf River or north towards the Forbidden river and Blue Mountain. Obvious exits: South North It takes seemingly hours... but at last, Thicket leads you out into open forest. Thicket turns on her wolf, to look at you. ** Holt near. Many elves. ** Around FarRoamer, From Willowpaw's back, Fhen smiles. He is tired from the rush of activity, but grateful to be free of those Preservers. Around FarRoamer, From Willowpaw's back, Fhen says "Which way?" Thicket seems disquieted by this notion, for some reason, going more gruff in her sending. ** Is safe for elves, though. I go now. Do not like many elves in one place. You go, stay out of valley. ** Thicket points southward. ** Elves there. ** Around FarRoamer, From Willowpaw's back, Fhen says "Thank you again." Thicket, with that, vanishes into the trees with her wolf. She sends an acknowledgement, but that is the last you see of her. ---------- End log.