"Wolfquest, Part I" Written by Rillwhisper, Dawn, Talek, and Dusk of the Willowholt Log Date: 9/14/98 Log Cast: Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt Lonehowl, a solitary Wolfrider hunter Fallberry, a Preserver, companion to Rillwhisper Molak, a human hunt leader Hakek, a young human hunter Two human hunters, companions of Molak and Hakek Nightwing, Rainsweet, Sweetrain, and Leafdrop, Preservers Prowlfar and other assorted wolves of the pack of Lonehowl ---------- Misty Mountainpeak(#458R) 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 human words roar through the twilight, the gutteral voices producing them raised in fury and bloodlust. Their stink permeates the air, the noise of their passage on the hillside below an assault on sensitive elfin ears. Their torches throw lurid shadows along the too-distant line of trees. And ahead of them, running with a desperation she has never known before in her lengthy turns of the seasons, her heart pounding, her breath rasping in her throat, her Preserver companion flittering in agitation as it strives to keep up with her, Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt, runs. Their builds greater, their legs longer, the humans pursue their chosen quarry with a ferocity and determination that would do the lupine beasts they so hate proud. A hand of them follow, one taking up the definite lead as he tries to stab at the elfin maiden with the crude, sharp-edged spear he wields; behind him, a hunter trips and stumbles, falling behind the rest of them, but only for a short time. Their hunt-cries chant louder and louder, fueled by the adrenaline that urges them onwards. "" The small one, the demon, the she-elf with the blazing green eyes and the tiny demon companion, barely eludes the hunter's spear. "Fallberry," she shrieks, "_DO_!" //Nastybad bigthing!// squeals the miniscule winged demon, spitting forth a cloud of stringy white goo into the face of the human warrior. And once more, Rillwhisper runs. The climb is growing steeper, and there's a secondary chill of fear coursing down Rillwhisper's spine as she flees her pursuers. She knows this place. She's been here before, here on this mountaintop of mists and treacherous rocks, overlooking the even more treacherous valley below. Desperate to avoid the danger behind her and the peril down somewhere beneath the mists, she plunges as swiftly as she dares through the misty tendrils. "Ga-a-ah!" The spear-wielding human stumbles and trips, his momentum too great to stop in his tracks, so he falls forward, a hand clutching for his face. The two behind them go too fast to avoid their sprawled companion and end up tripping as well, skidding across the ground with sharp cries of pain, anger, and frustration. "" "" "" But still one more pursues, clutching his spear as he nimbly avoids his fallen comrades. The one that tripped back aways. His momentary loss gained him time enough to see his companions fall, and smarts enough to avoid them. "" he shouts as he darts forward, putting on a burst of speed to try and catch up to the fleeing maiden. "" Lonehowl approaches from below, a mere shadow in the mist. Lonehowl has arrived. _Oh, High Ones, give me speed!_ Rillwhisper doesn't need to look over her shoulder to know that the human is hot on her trail; she can smell him. She can hear him. And Fallberry is squealing at the top of its tiny lungs, zooming in to try to spit its wrapstuff into the face of this pursuer as well. She can hear it crying out //Runrunrunrun sunnygreen highthing! NASTYBAD BIGTHING! Fallberry vexed! Much vexed!// She doesn't have time to call her praise and encouragement to her tiny winged friend, but the chieftess of the Willowholt vows to herself that if she survives this, that bug will have anything it wishes of her. If she survives. For now, she runs as swiftly as her feet can take her, her leather boots slipping and sliding over the sharp, dampened rocks at the top of the mountain. And closing in swiftly towards the hunters and the hunted, coming from a low-lying area down the mountain, is a would-be rescuer and his pack of wolves. They move at break-neck speed, but it will still be a few minutes before they can arrive in time to do anything. As it is, they cannot even be seen, for they are around a few bends. "" The human flails his spear about, trying to swat the sprite away like one would a bug as he runs still faster, heedless of sharply declining visibility. This hunter is the youngest of the Wolfrider's four pursuers; his eyes are sharp and cunning, but his face unmarked with youth and inexperience. "" The remaining three only now are on their feet, helping their leader to rid his face of the wrapstuff covering it. "" The hunter splutters once the majority of the silvery-stuff has been loosened from his face. "" "" And the three dart off, momentarily oblivious to the approaching wolves and rider, struggling to find and catch up to their fourth companion. //EEE!// comes the wail of the Preserver, as Fallberry misses its target. Young Hakek closes the distance between himself and his prey.... and all at once, the prey whirls. A cornered she-wolf, Rillwhisper flashes her brightmetal dagger into her hand, her eyes and her snarl gleaming in spectral contrast to the thickening veil of mists. The humans won't have her, not tonight. She has lifemates to get back to. A tribe. A holt. And she finds the breath to haul a howl up and out of her lungs, as she springs upon the rash young warrior. Further down the mountain, the sound of howling can be heard by those with the capacity to hear it, especially elves. Not human hunters, just quite yet. "" It's all Hakek can do to keep from bowling headlong into beast-demon, his heels plowing into the dirt and forcing himself to an abrupt halt. For a moment he stares in almost horrified wonder at the creature: red-golden locks of hair framing a face too delicate to be human.. and the eyes! Hakek's own pair widen amazedly. Emerald green and larger than any he'd seen before.. like an owl, but.. different! (...like a wolf?...) The human youth breathes, "" and suddenly the moment snaps past as the demon leaps forward, howling. Suddenly the whispered oath becomes a startled cry and Hakek darts to the side, his spear thrusting out sharply in a single fluid movement. Human and elf close and clash. And for an instant, a precious instant, Rillwhisper's attention is distracted by the distant sounds on the wind. _Howls?!_ Howls mean wolves... and possibly, Wolfriders. Hope flares into her heart... but only for a moment, as she narrowly avoids the thrust of the young human's spear. She has to throw herself sidelong, rolling along the rocks, while Fallberry shrieks its indignation at losing track of its highting... and the bigthing... in the fog. With as much strength as she can muster, Rillwhisper hurls forth a brief blaze of a sending, a wordless howl for help, and then once more lunges for the Tall One. To Rillwhisper, a send: (( A pause, then...an answer. )) Help comes. Hold out just a moment longer. << anger within the words >> The three humans still jog along behind, looking about for their missing comrade. "" "" "" Frustrated, they fan out only to run back into each other. "<..!>" "" "" A moment of uncertainty, no answer for the boy, then they continue their search. "" But Hakek cannot hear them, or if he can, he does not listen. "" He thrusts with his spear again when he misses, then a third time. "" Suddenly the beast-demon comes at him again, taking him by surprise by the quick recovery. The young hunter swings with his spear, seeking to clock her upside the head with it -- but instead, before he can see if he succeeds, Hakek stumbles and trips, the mists suddenly engulfing him as he plummets down the mountain with a startled shriek. The spear, however, accomplishes its purpose, smacking across the she-elf's skull with more wildness than force... but enough to send her tumbling. Reeling. She has barely enough time to throw out a send -- ** ?!! ** -- before she goes hurtling down into mists and darkness. The young hunter's biggest mistake was chasing after an elf to begin with. Now, through the mists, the howling sounds too close for the comfort of any human. Leading the way is a solitary elf on wolfback, one hand clutching a ruff of fur, the other holding a spear aloft. His eyes are narrowed to slits, teeth bared and a growl leading his charge, six other wolves behind him. "" His arm darts forward, the spear cutting through the fog towards Hakek's midsection, and moments after that, the elf is leaping from the wolf, that same hand now drawing forth his own dagger. ** I am here! << urgency/anger/concern >> Are you hurt? ** There is no answer from the she-elf, not yet. Somewhere within the mists is a tiny, piping voice shrilling //EEEEE! SUNNYGREEN HIGHTHING? Sunnygreen highthing? Fallberry must find! Badbadbad bigthings!// "" Hakek's eyes squeeze shut in pain, bones breaking as he falls. He doesn't see the elf below him, his quarry lost in the fright of freefall. He can't see the spear thrusting upwards, can't hear the second elf's angry cry - and suddenly it doesn't matter as Lonehowl's spear pierces his gut, embedding inside. High above, the human party has heard the wolves howling and hurried in the direction; they saw their companion strike at the demon, then plummet with it into the mists; now they peer over the sides, into the thick gray in hopes of making out their fallen comrade. "" Molak calls out uncertainly, rubbing at his whiskered chin as he shares a glance with his others. "" With a nod, it is decided, and the hunt leader slowly and carefully starts to search for a way down the mountainside, his hunting partners following warily. "" They call out, their voices no longer tinged with anger, but with nervousness and uncertainty. "" A single tiny Preserver, zipping down from above in its quest to find its mistress, squeals in frantic delight at the howls that are rending the air. //Growlers! Many growlers! Help help help! Help find sunnygreen highthing!// Fallberry streaks out of the mists, a purple form with iridescent green wings, and it heads unerringly for the elf who has come to Rillwhisper's aid. //EEEEE! Nastybad bigthing!// Lonehowl lands lightly on his feet, rushing forward to finish off Hakek. Yanking the spear free again with his left hand, the would-be hunter can see a face of intense hatred and rage, and the round-ear is the rather unfortunate recipient of said anger. Lonehowl plunges the speartip into the ground beside him, and grabs Hakek's hair with his hand, brandishing his dagger close to his neck. Again, he speaks, using the hu-man tongue. "" The words are spoken harshly, as Lonehowl attempts to utilize what little he knows of the human language. He glances towards the wolf pack, and, barking and growling at them quickly, he instructs them to stand by for a moment. Two move over towards Rillwhisper, to provide her a measure of protection. Then, the elf draws his dagger across Hakek's throat, to kill. The she-elf lies silent, one leg twisted in an angle in which the leg of an elf is never meant to lie. Her head is turned to the side, red-golden hair spilling out from it in a sea of shining waves. Lonehowl sends, for Rillwhisper. ** <> The wolves will keep you safe. I'll handle the other five-fingers. ** A.... sending? It reaches Rillwhisper, from somewhere behind the veil of fire and fog that has descended across her thoughts. A sending. Her consciousness latches onto it, giving the strange mind contacting hers a wordless flash of acknowledgement, before her wavering strength pulls her back down into oblivion. ** ..... ** And above her, Fallberry zooms in for a landing, tugtugging at a lock of red-golden hair, chattering all the while to the pair of wolves drawing close to its chieftess. //Growlers! Growlerfriends be good to sunnygreen highthing! Wakewakewake, sunnygreen highthing! Highthing here! Manygrowlers!// Hakek's face is twisted with pain, his spear lost as both hands grasp at his bleeding stomach. "" His head jerked back sharply as the wolf-demon snags him by the hair, the human youth turns brown eyes awash with a liquid sheen upon the golden-eyed captor. "" The youth's eyes close, tears escaping as does his life-blood. "" "" A voice interrupts the dying boy's pleading as Molak stumbles into view, just in time to see the elf slide his knife against the youth's throat. "" And the hunt leader flings his spear at the elf, his throw shaky but flying true. Behind him the other two can only stare, jaws slack, at the scene before them. The deed is done quickly by Lonehowl, and he slits Hakek's throat, spilling his life-blood messily to match the stain from his gut. Deep inside, the elf would prefer /not/ to be doing this, but..driven to it, he would kill any human to protect an elf. Especially the one trying to kill the elf. Only the whulf from one of Lonehowl's wolves - along with the elf's senses - alerts him to the thrown spear. Quickly, he rolls to his right, though the spear reaches him in time to graze his left shoulder, causing him to wince, hissing in anger. Leaving Hakek behind, he springs up again, grabbing his own spear. He gives the wolves another command and they, along with Lonehowl, begin to approach the humans. There is no fear from him. "" It sure looks like he'll follow through on his threat, too. The two wolves with Rillwhisper remain with her, sniffling at her in an attempt to make sure she's all right. //EEEEEEE!// wails Fallberry, from where it's landed upon the dust-streaked, green-clad chest of its chieftess. Desperately, the little being tugs more at loose red-gold strands of hair, and it informs the wolves despondently, //Sunnygreen highthing all stillquiet! Helphelp! Wake up sunnygreen highthing!// Not quite as unconscious as Fallberry thinks, Rillwhisper lies there dazed, her eyes open only a slit, enough to give her the vaguest of impressions of lupine countenances wreathed in mist looming over her. _Wolves,_ she thinks foggily. _Now I've found wolves....?_ The wolf closest to Rillwhisper offers a soft whine of apparent concern, and nudges at her hand with his muzzle, sitting down next to her. The other stands watch like a sentry, a few paces away. The young hunter lies where he falls, his body a tangle of limbs, motionless save for the slightest twitch of his fingers before the light dies from his eyes. Molak's eyes linger on him, their deep brown still darker with grief and guilt; a startled cough from one of his companions steals his attention from the fallen hunter to the approaching threat, his face contorting into a scowl. "" he barks out hoarsely, reaching for the crudely-crafted blade that is set at his side, brandishing it before him. "" Set into a frenzy driven by guilt and anger, the hunt leader advances a few steps. "" An order is barked, as an afterthought. The two other hunters scurry away from their rash leader, towards their fallen companion. They go to his side, heedless of the wolves surrounding except to tread cautiously, continuing their approach even after being warned otherwise. The wolfpack swirls around the dead human and the pair come to attend to him, stalking slowly. Lonehowl gives them another sound, and they simply wait warily, growling with hackles raised. They'll not attack unless given reason to. Lonehowl's amber eyes return to Molak, narrowing to feral slits. Again, he speaks. "" Then he..chuckles as if this is a game to him, while red trickles down his left arm, slowly. "And aye..I dare. This is your last mistake, round-eared waste." he says, in his own tongue. "" Lonehowl brandishes his spear, and charges towards the taller human, and the fight is on. //EEEEEE!// sounds the wail of Fallberry yet again, as the clamor of the fight makes it lift its small behatted head. It tugs all the more frantically at the lock of hair it's seized in its tiny purple fingers, to no avail; Rillwhisper doesn't stir. Her glazed eyes flick slowly from her frantic miniscule guardian to the wolf whose concerned nose nuzzles at her cheek, and then her word goes gray again. "" The taller of the two human hunters whispers the prayer hoarsely, his eyes flitting nervously from side to side as he and his friend venture hesitantly closer and closer to where Hakek lies motionless. They offer no danger, unlike their grief-frenzied leader, and eventually make it to the fallen youth's form. Tears fall, slowly and shamefully, as they arrange the boy's limbs accordingly and gingerly begin to lift him. "" one whispers raggedly to the other, who nods solemn assent. But the weeping and frightened mourning is not the path Molak chooses. The bear of a human bullies his way forward even as his opponent does the same, swinging his his blade down in a sloppy arch. "" he shouts through broken teeth clenched. "" Perhaps it should say something for the elf who allows the humans to tend to the one he just killed. Perhaps not. The five wolves continue to circle the pair, while the other two remain with Rillwhisper and the noisy Fallberry, that one continuing to nudge at Rillwhisper to make sure she keeps from sleeping. Meanwhile, the fight starts up, and it's clearly evident who has the upper hand - Lonehowl. Aided by the quickness and dexterity of the mixed elf-wolfblood that makes him a Wolfrider, it is not difficult for him to avoid or parry the awkward swipes from Molak. Taunting the human, Lonehowl tsks, "" With a howl, he pokes his speartip at the leader's shoulder, then in a flash, he whips it back down in an attempt to dislodge the blade from Molak's hand. At the same time, he kicks at the human's legs. Half-open, glassy green eyes focus on the furred muzzle poking at her cheeek, and the hands still pulling at her hair. "Stop it," Rillwhisper croaks, her voice barely audible, and it's anyone's guess whether she addresses the wolf or the Preserver. Timmorn's Blood, but her leg hurts, and her head hurts, and everything is odd and gray and spinning and there's noises of battle and elf-scent and human-scent and wolf-scent and.... wolves. Wolves. Her mind reels in giddy shock over the find, knowing only that after turns of the seasons of searching, she's found _wolves_. Her voice unaccountably softened even despite its weakness, she whispers at the creature beside her, "Stop that, wolf...." The wolf that's bothering Rillwhisper whuffles at her, then..stops, considering the injured elf. He licks her cheek once, then settles back on his haunches, stealing glances every few moments between the other wolves and his elf-leader. "" The battle rages on, but it appears to be a swift battle that draws near its close quickly. The spear stabs the human's shoulder, then robs him of his blade, but Gotara's blessing is upon him that he keeps his footing. Molak scrambles backwards, up the mountainside slightly, and narrowly avoids behind tripped. Grabbing his shoulder, he hisses thinly in pain before glaring at the demon, eyes narrowed, but wary. . o O (My blade..) //Eeee! Sunnygreen highthing wakewake! Manygrowlers highthing fight nastybad bigthing! Looksee! Look....// Rill can hear Fallberry's anxious voice trying to hold her to her consciousness, but the wolf that licks her cheek is strangely fascinating. Unable to remember the last time she actually _saw_ a wolf so close to her, she gazes longly at the beast, as an elf stranded in the Burning Waste might gaze upon an unexpected discovery of water. Lonehowl again plunges his spear into the soft earth at his feet, and lunges forward, hands and fingers outstretched to grab and thrust the larger human to the ground, to pin him there, with strength that matches his size and shape. Lonehowl's wolfpack remains as they've been, monitoring, circling, protecting. They keep watchful eyes on the humans with their dead, while the pair with the injured Rillwhisper remain ever-protective of her. The one attending the most to Rillwhisper settles his eyes upon her, staring silently. Green elfin eyes meet the lupine ones, and Rillwhisper thinks muzzily, _Wolf-friend? Can't be... not if... wha....?_ And her mind reaches out, dizzy and dazed, as her gaze loses itself in the wolfen regard, Fallberry's chatterings and the cacophony of the fight retreating into the mist around her thoughts. "" The youth's body lifted and tended to, one of the hunters shouts a warning, reaching out a hand and almost dropping Hakek again. But the warning comes too late as Lonehowl slams into the greater human's chest; were the situation different, Molak would not have been affected, but he still reels from the shock of losing his young friend and from losing their quarry all together. The great human falls backwards, thrown off-balance, and collides with the rocky dirt with a sharp grunt of pain. Lonehowl ignores the cry of the human, for it's too late to be of any difference in the matter. Atop Molak, a hand darts to the human's throat, gripping tightly and beginning to squeeze the breath from him, while his other hand holds an arm, a boot pressing down on the other. Speaking slowly, more because he has to, Lonehowl delivers an ultimatum. "" He rams the point home with another forceful squeeze as he finishes. There is no sound save the ragged inhale and release of breath before it is cut off by Lonehowl's hand upon his throat. The defeated warrior glares at the demon-creature defiantly, hatefully. As his breath is stolen from him so does Molak weaken, his two companions doing little to help save to watch with saddened eyes, certain that they will lose their proud hunter as well as young Hakek. But then Molak splutters, coughing hoarsely and voicelessly, his head bobbing awkwardly. "" he rasps. "" Whine? The wolf on his haunches leans slightly forward, peering down into Rillwhisper's half-conscious eyes, a bemused noise in the back of his throat. Then he abruptly thrusts his muzzle down at the she-elf anew, licking her cheek and nearly knocking Fallberry over. The Preserver squeaks its protest, but the wolf merely sneezes at the bug, sending it tumbling off the chieftess's prone form. With that, Lonehowl's grip is released, and he vaults back and away from Molak to retrieve his spear, and Molak's blade. He surely will not pass up the chance at something to trade later. And there's another spear that had tasted his blood as well, somewhere. With his right hand, he points the speartip at the humans with the dead Hakek, then whips the point back up the mountainside, passing Molak's defeated form. He barks an order in the human tongue one more time. "" He being Molak. Wolf-friend. Rillwhisper's pale lips curve ever so slightly into a smile, and she lifts an unsteady hand to the animal's head, finding gray-brown fur there, and a rough tongue that swipes over her fingers. _Wolf-friend...._ The thought blots everything else out of her awareness: the Preserver trying to scramble back up onto her chest, the pain in her head and her twisted limb, even the resolution of the conflict between her human pursuers and her unlooked for rescuer. Only nods, solemn and muted, answer the triumphant elf. The two hunters join the third, grasping at the fourth's limp, battered body awkwardly. Without a word, Molak rises and takes it from them, settling Hakek gently over one of his broad shoulders. "" one whispers, voice soft and hesitant as he lays a hand upon his leader's shoulder. "" Molak answers him gruffly. "" Unlike this man, who could not avenge his death and send the boy's spirit flying to Gotara with honor. Slowly, the three and their precious cargo make their way up the mountainside once again, the thick layer of mist soon hiding them from view when their feet touch the top. Lonehowl folds his arms over his chest, standing stone-still until he hears no further traces of the departing humans. Then, finally, he inspects his left shoulder momentarily. Decent gash, but nothing that won't heal properly once cleaned. He calls to the rest of the wolves to join him as he steps over towards the resting Rillwhisper. ** The humans are gone. ** he sends, simply. Then as he comes close enough, he drops his weaponry to the ground and crouches beside Rillwhisper, considering her. Noticing the position of the leg and her generally dazed appearance, he notes, "We must move you from here. I don't trust the humans to honor any promises." Yet he still gave them the chance to... Shaking his head, he finally notices the interaction between Rillwhisper and the wolf who seems to have taken a liking to her, and a faint smile shows. That sending again. Rillwhisper blinks, and with an effort, lifts her gaze up to find the sending's source. ** .....? ** And when her green gaze rises, time.... stops. Lonehowl(#447Pc) The elf that catches you glancing at him looks back through golden-hued eyes, showing a sense of strength and freedom, well aware of just who and what he is. Of above-average height for a Wolfrider, he stands about two inches shy of four feet even, making for quite an imposing figure when angered. His build is sturdy but lean, though not skinny, and his head rests on a pair of broad shoulders. Hair colored a golden brown frames his narrow face, held back by a plain tan band around his forehead, free to mingle as it will just past his shoulders. More often than not, sharp white teeth can be noted whenever he speaks, or perhaps, snarls. His attire is simple, to say the least. Leathers of a natural color adorn his upper body, just enough to give him a layer over his torso, arms left bare save for twin leather bracers between each shoulder and elbow. The brownish top ends just above his waist, and is tied off in a couple places with leather lacing. Leather wrappings also surround his wrists and forearms, while his legs are covered in a darker set of brown pants, mostly flat against his skin. They tuck into black boots rimmed in gray fur, and they seem well-worn. A couple small pouches hang from one hip, and a sheath for a dagger made of flint is located on his left side, able to be drawn with his right hand. It is apparent the main weapon of choice is a spear, hand-carved and finished off with a tip made from flint. A simple weapon, but deadly when used properly. Lonehowl continues to smile faintly, using a hand to smooth back some hair that's fallen in front of an eye. He speaks again, in a firm, deep voice. "Lost your ability to speak, Chieftess?" So he's taken note of the topknot. Shifting a bit to again look at Rillwhisper's leg, he frowns. "Broken in your fall.." Dazed with pain though her eyes may be, they widen in a surge of shock, enough to fully show their deep leaf-green hue, the sparks of grey and gold within. And even deeper, somewhere deep down behind the grey-gold-green regard, there's more visible as well. A Wolfrider and a chieftess, wolf-blood and huntress and earthy no-nonsense practicality set off against something gentler, a sense of cool clear waters at the heart of a hidden glade.... _Twyr_. Lonehowl's eyes suddenly shift quickly from Rillwhisper's leg, back to the face, and more importantly, the eyes of the Chieftess. His mouth falls open in a stunned expression, and Rillwhisper can see past the golden eyes, into the very heart and soul of this hardy elf. She sees, amid a rough-and-tumble, equally no-nonsense interior, a single word. A name, really. His name. _Gyrr_. Oblivious to what has just transpired, Fallberry squeaks indignantly at the wolf who has stoically planted himself at Rillwhisper's side, //Naughtybad growlerthing!// It waggles a wee finger at the beast, scoldingly, and only then does it whip its head around, peering anxiously at the elves. //Sunnygreen highthing wakewake? Nice manygrowlers highthing take sunnygreen highthing away to safesnug den? Hide from nastybad bigthings?// it pleads. The wolfpack crowds around the pair of elves and the single preserver, seemingly aware of what's going on here. They keep their distance, but remain near. Green eyes to golden, Rillwhisper stares thunderstruck up at the stranger crouching at her side, her hand falling strengthlessly off the head of the wolf who helps Lonehowl flank her. Her mouth opens, then closes again, but no sound emerges; her voice has deserted her. A tendril of sending flashes forth: ** I... you... ?! ** And then it abruptly blurs, as Rillwhisper's head slumps back, her consciousness fleeing on the same path as her voice. //EEE! Sunnygreen highthing all stillquiet again!// Fallberry bemoans, tugging woefully at the chieftess's hair. //Wakewake! Must go to nice safesnug den! Wakewakewake!// Lonehowl reacts as though struck flush in the face by a slap, losing his balance and coming to sit on his rump. Blinking rapidly, he send-stammers, ** Wha...? H-how...why..? ** It is his first Recognition, and he's left as dumbfounded as ever. A pair of wolves - his wolves - whine and nudge at him, making sure he, too, doesn't pass out. As it is, he has to rub at his temples with his fingertips. The wolf beside Rillwhisper whines throatily, nudging at her slack form, and then raising a troubled lupine visage to the elf who is his alpha. And Fallberry, seizing on the only other conscious elf in the vicinity, flits straight to Lonehowl, grabbing _his_ hair and begging, //Helphelp! Help sunnygreen highthing! Take to nice safesnug place! Helphelphelp!// Lonehowl shakes his head suddenly, to clear out the cobwebs. If those humans were to come back now, all would surely be lost. He realizes this and it, along with the tugging of the preserver helps to bring him back around, albeit a step slower for the moment. "All right, bug, all right..I'm awake. I'll help." . o O (I've got to) he thinks, sparing a brief glance at the wolf that's taken to Rillwhisper. Rolling back to stand up, he first goes to inspect the leg of the Chieftess again. Her limb is twisted, bent at an eerie angle away from her slender form. Indeed, it must have been broken in her fall. The she-elf shows no sign of stirring at the wolf's worried nudges, but her chest continues to rise and fall, its pace unbroken. Lonehowl glances somewhat annoyedly at Fallberry, and tries to just dislodge it from his hair. Getting back to his feet, he walks over to retrieve the spear left behind by the human hunters, then removes the tip and snaps it in two, coming back over to Rillwhisper. Then, he takes off his top and cuts it up into workable strips. Finally, he proceeds to position Rillwhisper's leg properly, and goes about making a splint around it, using the leathers to wrap and secure the wooden spearshafts. Fallberry clings to Lonehowl's dark golden hair for a time, and watches with avid worried interest. //Manygrowlers highthing want Fallberry make wrapstuff?// it finally asks, its piping tones strangely reluctant. It flies down to hover in front of the hunter, over Rillwhisper's unmoving body. //Fallberry put wrapstuff there?// It points a finger down at the leather thongs being tied round the she-elf's limb. At first, Lonehowl pays Fallberry no mind, working to make sure the leg will be able to heal properly. Then as the preserver constantly gets in the way of his line of sight, he leans back. "What do you want? What are you talking about? What's wrapstuff?" he questions in rapid-fire succession, looking a bit put-off. //Fallberry want help sunnygreen highthing!// the bug insists, wringing wee purple hands. //Wrapstuff good!// It pauses, dainty features crinkled in consternation. //Sunnygreen highthing no like wrapstuff all over, but Fallberry make _little_ wrapstuff? Fallberry show?// Lonehowl frowns faintly, working to follow along with the words said by the preserver. He grunts wordlessly, and inclines his head in a faint nod, warily. He knows not what wrapstuff is, and is going to be ready if it's bad. The Preserver promptly zips down and around... and spits forth a tendril of white goo around Rillwhisper's knee, over the top of one of the strips of leather the hunter has secured there. //See? See? Is good wrapstuff?// "Stop!" Lonehowl exclaims suddenly, surprising even the wolves of his pack as he extends a hand towards Rillwhisper's leg. Confusion evident, he questions, "What /is/ that goo? What are you doing?" Fallberry flits, freezing, hovering there in midair. //Fallberry make wrapstuff,// it pipes, meekly. Lonehowl pokes a finger gently at the stuff on Rillwhisper's knee, finding it to be rather sticky. "But..what does it /do?/" The question seems to confuse the little purple sprite. //Is... is wrapstuff,// it explains, less than usefully. //Highthings go stillquiet, or fursoft cradlebabies go stillquiet, wrapstuff keep safesnug!// "Safe..?" the solitary Wolfrider questions again, his face lined with confusion and a general lack of sureness about the whole thing. His head snaps towards the top of the mountain, thinking he heard something. No..nothing there. Frowning again, he makes a quick decision. "Do it." Fallberry flits some more, and pipes tinily, fidgeting with its hat, //Sunnygreen highthing say no wrapstuff all over! Sunnygreen highthing no like big wrapstuff... Fallberry do little wrapstuff?// It's obviously agitated, perhaps worried about upsetting the unconsciouss elf. Lonehowl makes a simple motion towards Rillwhisper, to instruct where to wrapstuff - the broken leg. He figures, hopefully, the preserver will know what to do from there. He can't help but steal a nervous glance towards Rillwhisper's face. The bug obeys the hunter's motion, zipping down to do its work. Strands of white weave round the broken limb, securing the fragments of spear to it, a process that doesn't seem to sit well with the wolf who has taken a liking to the fallen she-elf. The beast whines, growling at the Preserver.... and, oblivious to the exchange going on above her, Rillwhisper lies still. Her features are pale and strained, her eyes closed. Lonehowl still doesn't look very comfortable with all this either, but he seems to understand it might be the safest thing for now. He glances at the wolf that took to Rillwhisper, and rests a gentle hand over his ears, rubbing softly, making a few soft, reassuring sounds to him. Strangely enough, the wolf settles. Then Lonehowl looks back down at Rillwhisper and waits until the deed is done. It doesn't take long. Soon, white wrappings stretch the length of the chieftess's leg, and Fallberry alights on Lonehowl's shoulder, piping hopefully, //Is good wrapstuff? Nice manygrowlers highthing and nice growlers take sunnygreen highthing to safesnug den now?// Lonehowl looks faintly uncomfortable with this..preserver on his shoulder. He knows little about them, so he asks, "Just what /are/ you, anyway?" Not really answering Fallberry's question, he reaches to pick up Rillwhisper gently, and holds her in his arms, daring not to try to have a wolf carry her. . o O (No den nearby..just the haunted valley..) Rillwhisper exhales huskily as she is lifted, her face turning toward the now bare chest of her rescuer, a faint strange expression rippling across her face: an expression of need. Her breath tickles faintly against his skin. And her form is slight, for all that this is a clearly fit elf. //Am.... mething,// Fallberry blurts, once more bemused. //Am Fallberry!// Lonehowl realizes further questioning of Fallberry probably won't end up with him getting the answers he seeks, but he asks anyway. "What were the two of you doing, alone, up here?" He makes another sound, and the wolfpack surrounds him. As Rillwhisper's breath hits his skin, he smiles faintly down at her. This one, he'll protect perhaps more than any elf. Gray-brown-furred Prowlfar, the wolf who seems to be growing fonder of the she-elf by the second, whines faintly and presses closer to the pair of elves. And in the meantime, the shifting of its wings brushing against Lonehowl's ear, Fallberry pipes wisely, //Sunnygreen highthing and Fallberry chased by nastybad bigthings!// That, apparently, is a suitable answer to the question of 'What were you doing up here?', as far as the sprite is concerned. Lonehowl grunts once, turning his head a bit from the wing of Fallberry. What did he do to get pinned with a preserver on his shoulder? Probably Recognizing the elf the bug's taken a to. He certainly allows Prowlfar to remain near Rillwhisper and himself, sensing rather easily what happened between the two. No further questions are asked, and he allows silence to reign as the group moves towards the mysterious valley - unless Fallberry chitters some more. Lonewolf knows there's water around the valley, and for some reason, the humans stay away from it, too. It doesn't take long, either, for Fallberry to react to the course the hunter is taking. //EEEEEE!// it shrills, abruptly shooting into the air. //Nononono! No go into nastybad flowerplace!// Lonehowl yipes in surprise, certainly not expecting a shrieking preserver to shout in his ear. At least it left his shoulder. Pausing to make sure Rillwhisper remains in a comfortable position, he squints an eye at Fallberry. "Why? Flowers? What's in there?" By now, farther down the mountainside, the distant sounds of trickling water can be heard. The mists are lighter here, and there's enough visiblity to see a clearly troubled Fallberry, flittering in an apparent frenzy of worry. //Naughtybad wethings in flowerplace!// it pipes. //Make much wrapstuff!// Lonehowl frowns in the direction of the valley, able to get a line-of-sight look down at it from his vantage point. . o O (More bugs? Down there? Wolfscat...The Chieftess..Twyr..she needs water.) "I don't care," the Wolfrider says, shaking his head. "We need water, and the only way to it is through the valley. Without water, the Chieftess won't survive. We'll be careful." Fallberry, it is clear, does _not_ like this at all. As Lonehowl determinedly strides away, the Preserver streaks after him and the unconscious elf in his arms. //Nonononono! No go! No go....// To no avail, as the hunter and his burden descend into the mists. You carefully feel your way...the sound of the falling rock seemed to indicate a steep drop, somewhere close. A gust of wind blows, clearing the fog long enough for you to glimpse a steep mountainside leading down to a green valley below..a glitter of water, and a flutter of wings...Then the clammy whiteness closes in on you again, blocking all from view. But you did spot one narrow stretch of mountainside that might just barely be climbable. Gathering all your courage, you start the slow, cautious descent along the fog-slicked side of the mountain. The climb is long, and wearying. Occasionally there is a near slip, leaving your heart pounding. Trembling with fatigue, you finally reach bottom after a seemingly endless climb, and turn to look around. Hidden Valley(#474R) This tiny hidden 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 bright sunlight of noon manages to penetrate the fog ceiling in a few places, allowing golden beams of light to highlight a tree here, a sparkling waterfall there. Contents: Nightwing(#465) Obvious exits: Berry patch Pool Copse Climb Out A sense of peace envelops your weary mind, and a childlike joy and wonder at being here, in this secret, beautiful place. High up on the hill, dimly, Lonehowl disappears from view, and hearing. High up on the hill, dimly, Lonehowl has left. Lonehowl has arrived. Lonehowl looks around warily, and despite the necessity to go through here, not even he looks too comfortable. As for his wolfpack, they balk and protest as well, but reluctantly keep by Lonehowl's side. He frowns at Fallberry's constant objectioning. The valley certainly _seems_ innocent enough, full of beautiful green growing things, the air fresh and sweet and heavy with the scents of flowers. That's definitely water bubbling in the distance, the scent of it intermingling with the heady flavor of the air. Fallberry looks about in all directions, wailing, //NOnononoNo.... badbad flowerplace! Highthings no stay here! Highthings no leave if stay here!// The sense of being watched falls upon those conscious enough to know it. Eyes unseen watch curiously, cautiously.. Colorful wings of butterflys dance, then disappear before you can truly see them, vanishing amongst the trees and grasses. Sometimes whispers might be heard, so soft you might doubt your own senses, but they slip out of earshot like water through your fingers. The only constant of the strangeness is the watching, the unseen eyes gazing from afar.. Lonehowl's eyes start to dart back and forth at the whispers, able to be heard when Fallberry's chittering ceases. "Shush, bug.." he says quietly, looking left - at something..? Maybe...but maybe not. "Someone..or something..is here." He carefully sets Rillwhisper down at his feet, making a quick sound to draw the wolfpack around her to guard her on all sides. He holds his spear in both hands, stepping out of the circle, but staying very close. Like breath through a whistle, the whispering continues, soft and barely audible.. then fades away when LoneHowl steps outside the circle. As if it were never there to begin with. The chieftess breathes out a soft, strained sigh, as if not appreciating leaving the hunter's arms, but she does not wake. Prowlfar growls uneasily, immediately placing himself in a protective stance over the she-elf and snapping at two of his packmates whom he deems too close to her. And in the meantime, Fallberry obediently but uneasily silences, fluttering near Lonehowl's head. //Naughtybad wethings,// it whispers petulantly. Lonehowl's hands grip the shaft of his spear tightly, his upper lip curling, nostrils flaring. He knows he's being watched. He just /knows/ it. And it bothers him. Terribly. Turning back to Fallberry he murmurs, quieter than before. "Let's just go through as fast as we can." Now, he's got a problem. He needs his spear for added protection, but he needs to carry Rillwhisper, too, having no way to secure her to any of the wolves. He'll gave to trust the wolves to guard them - and they've come through before. He shifts the spear a bit while he picks Rillwhisper up again, then instructs the pack to surround them again, moving on. Shifted, Rillwhisper stirs feebly, a sending rippling out of her. ** .....? ** But she doesn't resist the hunter lifting her up into his grasp. Fallberry, deeply worried, scowls tinily off into the undergrowth and pipes, //Go away, naughtybad wethings! No bother highthings!// Still nothing, still silence of the utmost degree. Then it ripples, like wind over meadow-grass. In fact, that seems to be what it is: the faintest of breezes, brushing softly over elfin forms and combing invisible fingers through lupine fur. And with it comes pollen, almost tickling at the edges of your senses. Not much, no.. but just enough to bring a pleasantness. Enough to perhaps relax, or even bring about a gentle sort of laziness. The pollen, just barely thin enough to keep one from sneezing or coughing, tickles at your senses, then falls as the slight breeze dies, resting lightly upon the blossoms and greenery that populate the valley. Fallberry grrrs tinily into the underbrush, certain it saw a flutter of colored wings.... but then it turns its head and realizes that the highthings are outpacing it, and so are the growlers. Squealing worriedly, it zips back to join Lonehowl, encouraging, //Yesyes, go through stillquiet shiverbad flowerplace!// Again, Lonehowl's eyes shift all around himself, trying to figure out what's going on here. The pollen on the breeze is a strange thing, for sure, but he doesn't plan on letting his guard down. Not a bit. He picks up the pace a bit, moving quickly in order to get through this place, though he spares Fallberry a glance. "I thought you didn't want us to." //Want no stay,// Fallberry pipes plaintively as it flits along. //Here now! Go out fast! Must find safesnug denplace for sunnygreen highthing!// A soft sound, like the fluttering of wings.. the whisper of voices.. then a pair of bright, colorful eyes peek out at the Preserver, visible to its eyes alone. It's eyes follow the highthings, the wething, and the growlerthings.. the highthings seem unaware of it, but Fallberry.. Fallberry might see it. Fallberry's gaze darts distractedly sideways again, and it waggles its hand towards the leaves, shrilling, //Go away, naughtybad wething! No vex Fallberry!// A bright giggle answers from a patch of greenery. Like silver bells, it chimes cheerfully, but the voice is but one rather than many. Indigo stands out against the green leaves. Grrrr! Bent on driving its point home, Fallberry flits at that glimpse of indigo, piping out as it goes, //Fallberry take good care of highthings and growlerfriends! Fallberry scratch naughtybad wething! Fallberry sting!// Rainsweet has arrived. Sweetrain has arrived. Naturally, Lonehowl's den of choice in this area is on the other side of the valley. To get to the mountain Rillwhisper was being hunted on, he circled around the valley. Now it's more a necessity to cut through the valley directly. Hence, their journey in. Lonehowl's upper lip curls towards the little indigo...thing, and he snarls. "Leave us alone, bug." He looks disapprovingly at Rillwhisper's preserver-friend, and instructs, "Come back here, Fallberry. Be quiet and stop making so much noise!" He tries to instruct, at least. The wolfpack begins to act even more skittish, as a collective unit. All of a sudden, there's twin flashes of pale blue as two blurs dive out from opposite edges from the greenery. The indigo butterfly is still there, unmoving as the twin pale-blue figures reach to snatch Fallberry and zip it back into the greenery with them. The silvery giggling intensifies some. And Fallberry.... vanishes. In Lonehowl's arms, Rillwhisper stirs once more. Somewhere in her awareness is a conviction that she really ought to be awake, that something has happened that requires her utmost attention, something vital, something crucial. Her eyelids flicker, revealing unfocused green eyes. ** ......? ** Only now does the indigo figure move, flitting out to take Fallberry's place. Nightwing eyes the new highthing with curiousity, then looks about quickly before following him, chirping once it's in range, // Hellohello, manygrowlers highthing! // In its arms it cradles two or three berries. Fallberry is taken by Rainsweet and Sweetrain, silvery wrapstuff spinning out even before they clear the greenery. They perch on a branch, Sweetrain holding the Willowholt Preserver in place while its twin continues to spin wrapstuff about it, set on coccooning the other Preserver. "Timmorn's Blood!" Lonehowl exclaims, staring wide-eyed over at the location Fallberry was snatched from. "Wolfscat..curse it!" Looking down as Rillwhisper stirs, he tries to envelop her in his sending, an attempt to help her come around quicker. ** ((nudgenudge)) Wake up..quickly. There's trouble here! ** He stops, turning back around to stare at the indigo bug. He does not look too happy. Nightwing looks as innocent as can be as it blinks wine-red eyes at manygrowlers highthing. // Name not timmornsbloodwolfscat, // it informs him sagely. // Is NightWing! // At his expression it quiets, delicate features tensing in a frown, then tilting its tiny head to one side. // Highthing's face all stormyclouddark? // From somewhere within the green growing things, there sound two muffled noises of agitation.... and then silence. Rillwhisper frowns vaguely, her brow furrowing as that sending engulfs her mind, making her reel in a surge of reactions... but it also accomplishes Lonehowl's intended purpose. Fragile, but clear, the she-elf's sending sounds forth, more in wordless concepts and queries than in formed syllables: ** ** Nightwing glances briefly in the direction of the noises, then back again. It offers the highthings a tentative smile. Gray-brown Prowlfar, amidst the rest of the wolves, lifts its attention to the dark winged thing in the air... and growls uneasily, threateningly. Lonehowl looks back down at Rillwhisper, and does the only thing he knows: he sends her clear images of Fallberry being snatched away, and another image of the new preserver, Nightwing. Then he makes another decision, and sets Rillwhisper down, instructing the wolves to guard her at all costs. Ignoring Nightwing, he stalks towards the place Fallberry disappeared from. "Give it back. Now." he snarls. ** ?!! ** comes Rillwhisper's sent reply. Lowered down by the hunter, she blinks pain-dazed eyes at her surroundings, and then sends a stronger, more urgent wave of alarm. This time her sending shapes words. ** Stranger... ** -- _Gyrr_, her soul supplies, with a force that practically chokes off her breath -- ** ... we can't... stay here! Can't... ** Nightwing trails after Lonehowl, then darts forward, going so far as to perch on his shoulder lightly. // Give what back, highthing? // it queries with the utmost innocence, reaching a tiny hand to curl a strand of hair between its fingers. // Nightwing like highthings.. Nottake anything! Yes? // It is at that moment that one of the pale blue flashes from before appears, flitting out from the greenery, its face a mask of alarm. // Yiiieeeee! Yiiieeee!! Greatfurgrowl-thing! Greatfurgrowl-thing! // it squeals, sounding absolutely terrified. Prowlfar hunkers down beside the she-elf, a growl rumbling in his throat, louder than those of the rest of the pack. Rillwhisper struggles to sit up, her fingers fumbling for purchase in the wolf's fur. Her head is spinning, her vision graying around the edges, and she swings her exhausted gaze in the direction of the Preservers... and the elfin hunter approaching the thick cluster of bushes. ** _No_! ** she sends, but the effort drains her, and she slumps against Prowlfar's flank, provoking whines out of the beast. Sweetrain has left. Leafdrop has arrived. Lonehowl pauses for a very brief moment to look Rillwhisper's way. ** I know, Twyr..I don't plan on staying here any longer than we have to. But we have to get Fallberry back. They took it. ** His sending includes urgency and..uneasiness. He ducks from Nightwing as the bug flits over to him, though it still manages to grab hold of a strand of hair. Lifting a hand, he threatens, "Get away from me, bug..." His attention suddenly shifts back to Rillwhisper. ** ? ** Nightwing looks insulted, but tries to hide it. Instead of answering him, it instead goes to the other Preserver, eyes widening. A flurry of chatter issues between them.. then suddenly both Preservers are in Lonehowl's face! Nightwing chirps wildly, its voice raised in alarm: // Highthing must hide! Hiderun! Safesnug place! Greatfurgrowl-thing comequick! comequick! // The chieftess's expression flickers strangely at the way she is addressed, and for an instant, her gaze is achingly clear, comprehending, full of tumult. A small groan issues out of her, and her lips soundlessly shape the single syllable 'Gyrr'... before the alarmed Preservers converge on the hunter. Then, Rillwhisper starts to try to leap to her feet, coughing out, "Leave him alone... leave him alone, bugs!" Rillwhisper, however, is not leaping anywhere, not with her leg in its current condition. She crumples even before she makes it to her knees, her bound leg sliding awkwardly off to her side, her good one giving way beneath her. Prowlfar and a young she-wolf are immediately there to prop her up, even as the rest of the pack starts edging towards their elf-leader, growls arising from lupine throats. Rainsweet chirps its confirmations, bobbing its head frantically. // Highthing hide! Hidesoon! Hidequick! // A look is shot between the two sprites, then its voice raises. // Follow Rainsweet! Rainsweet show good-hidingplace! // Rainsweet and Nightwing truly look as if they believe the horrible 'greatfurgrowl-thing' might appear at any moment. Nightwing, perhaps as an afterthought, drops its tiny catch of berries, the small purplescent berries scattering across the ground. It's safe to say Lonehowl doesn't trust the preservers. Not a bit. They took Fallberry, and are literally bugging him now. He swipes his speartip at the two accosting him, backstepping from them as he does so. "I said..get away from me!" he bellows, a rumbling growl emanating from him. His pack comes closer, to aid him as they can, and the Wolfrider goes quickly back to Rillwhisper's side. ** I scented no 'greatfurgrowl-thing'...a bear? In here? Nothing's left this place.. ** Weakly, Rillwhisper lifts her head, sending, ** Nothing.... leaves... elves... get stuck here! The flowers....** And her gaze abruptly glazes over, her form slumping sideways against the increasingly nervous she-wolf. ** Beware the flowers, Gyrr.... ** The preservers continue to flock around Lonehowl, their voices raising in fright. // Nononononono! Highthing mustnot stay! Is not good! Is VERY bad! Greatfurgrowl-thing come quick, come quick.. caught other wething! // One voice, the paler of the two blue sprites, raises. // Rainsweet know! Rainsweet saw! // A light breeze carries more pollen, tickling at your senses again. Your mind grows distant, the preserver chatter softening and quieting.. but only briefly as that selfsame breeze catches the pollen again and brushes it away. Lonehowl's eyes darken, and he jabs threateningly at the preservers surrounding him. "I said /get away from me!!/" he hisses, doing his level-headed best to forget their incessant ramblings while he goes back to tend to Rillwhisper. ** Hurry..we've got to get through. Don't fall asleep. Let me help you along. Quickly. Flowers? No, I won't get into the flowers.. ** His sent thoughts are rushed, filled with concern and urgency, as before. He tries to help the Chieftess to a standing position, but slows for a moment, beseiged by the pollen. Shaking his head, he sneezes, and shrugs it off. . o O (Won't..give in.) Swaying, Rillwhisper clings enough to her awareness to loop her arm around the hunter, her features tautening into a grimace at the dull pulse of pain her head puts out by way of complaint at her being pulled erect. But it's so tempting! Though brief an experience, the pleasant laziness still pulls at your senses, the edges of your mind.. relaxing your muscles and making them, ever so slightly, feel tired, ready to rest. And then that might seem furthest from your mind as a yowl, groggy but nonetheless frightening, splits the otherwise serene atmosphere. From the bushes Fallberry disappeared into a feline emerges, shaking once to rid itself of the pollen, then yowling again as it wakes up. Silvery threads cling to its fur and the soft sound of giggling /might/ be heard.. were it not for Nightwing's terror-filled shriek that overlaps it. // Greatfurgrowler-thing!! // Rillwhisper(#456PWc) This elfin female has an earthy if somehow also ethereal look; she is wisp-slender, but with a lithe huntress's build, and hands that seem built for grasping a dagger or a bow. Her long, bright red-golden hair falls in unbound waves about her shoulderblades, taken up into a Wolfrider chieftain's topknot atop her head. Huge in her pale pointed face, her deep leaf-green eyes are flecked with shimmers of grey and gold, and her capable hands sometimes show a delicate touch matched perhaps for the holes of a flute as well as her weapons. She is clad in leathers worn with much travel: a green sleeveless tunic, with armholes sweeping out to a slight point to accentuate her shoulders, and layered underneath with soft beige, belted at the waist with green as well. Her breeches are dark gold, laced up the sides with green laces, and her boots are a paler grey-green. A simple hooded cloak of undyed brown is hooked about her throat and shoulders. "Owl pellets.." Lonehowl scowls, staring at the bobcat, strands of that same silvery wrapstuff seeming to be over it. He attempts to rouse Rillwhisper even faster now, resorting whatever it takes. In this case, it's an insult. ** Wake up. You're a Chieftess, not a cubling. Act like one, now! ** That sense of urgency is as strong as ever as the elf acts to handle the bobcat, leaving Rillwhisper with the wolves while he summons his two best fighters to come with him. Brandishing his spear, he moves to square off with the bobcat if it decides to fight. Perhaps his growling wolves will convince it that retreat would be in its best interests. As for the pollen's effects, it slows Lonehowl's movements by only a fraction of a step - his will is strong, and he steels himself against the desire to rest. Rillwhisper's head jerks with the ringing vehemence of Lonehowl's demand, and although it's left her reeling, she lifts her head again. ** Awake, ** she sends gruffly in acknowledgement. ** Here... ** The bobcat yowls again, then arches its back upon catching sight of the wolves. A paw snakes out towards the pack even as the feline backs away, teeth bared and hissing. All the while, Nightwing and Rainsweet pull at Lonehowl, their voices pleading. // Highthing comewith please! Growlerthings takecare of greatfurgrowler-thing... highthing comewith! Staysafe until allover! Wethings take good careof! // Lonehowl spares a moment to swat at the preservers tugging and yanking at him again. "No! I fight with my pack!" he nearly thunders, though if the bobcat doesn't press the issue, neither will he. Carefully, he works his way back over towards Rillwhisper, and makes something of an apology. ** I had to get you to wake up somehow. By the way, my name is Lonehowl. Let's be quick, and get out of here! We can't spare any more time now and we'll have to get your bug later! ** Nightwing shrieks! and flits away, only to zoom back swiftly. // Sunnygreen highthing! // it insists then, frantic. // Sunnygreen highthing nofight! Is not good all over! // Someone, apparently, noticed the wounds. // Wethings take good careof while manygrowlers highthing fight! // ** Rillwhisper, ** the chieftess sends weakly. ** Yes... go... ** For a moment, green eyes meet golden, and she adds, ** Gyrr, we have to... you and I--** Then she abruptly cuts off, her lip curling in as much of a snarl as she can manage at the sight of the Preserver. Somewhere along the lines, a green preserver joins the fray. Leafdrop hovers behind Nightwing and Rainsweet, its eyes as pleading as its fellows'. Once again, Lonehowl threatens Nightwing with the tip of his spear, poking it at the annoying little critter. "Do /not/ spray Rillwhisper." he warns, feral eyes narrowing to solidify his stance on the matter. Keeping a close eye on his entire pack, the elf begins to help Rillwhisper through, trying to get to the water, their original destination. ** Yes, Twyr..? We have to go, quickly. /Now/.. ** Nightwing bobs its head up and down in response, its face set very seriously. // Is so! Nightwing no wrapstuff sunnygreen! Just take good careof. // In the midst of the thunderous growling of the wolf-pack, Rillwhisper clings with as much strength as she can summon to the hunter at her side. Her bound leg drags ungracefully, and she hops along on the good one, her face sheening over in sweat as she struggles to keep to her feet. "Don't wrap me," she mutters thickly, clearly intended for the bugs, but only loud enough for Lonehowl to hear. Lonehowl shifts positions to make it easier for Rillwhisper to move along as he slips an arm around her side, drawing one of hers around him. It should make it easier for her to move, while being less of a burden on her leg if she can keep it safe. Yet again, he summons his pack to surround them, leaving the bobcat behind, but not forgotten. The bobcat, still woozy from being freed of the wrapstuff and caught by the aroma of pollen, hisses only halfheartedly after the wolves before retreating in the opposite direction. Only then do the preservers stop chattering, Rainsweet and Leafdrop flitting behind while Nightwing finds a perch at the very top of Lonehowl's head. Lonehowl is more concerned with getting Rillwhisper and the pack out of here than he is with a cursed preserver deciding to make a nest of his head. Quickly, but only at a pace Rillwhisper can maintain, he continues, the pack guarding them on all sides. The physical touch, the scent and presence of the hunter hold Rillwhisper awake and aware, and she unconsciously tightens her grip on him, knowing dimly that this is somehow necessary to some deep facet of her being. But that is all the alertness she can manage, with all of her energies focused on two goals: holding onto the elf who supprots her, and moving. Prowlfar slides in to flank her other side, his hackles bristling, his growl still sounding in his throat. The bobcat is gone now, stumbled off into some other part of the valley. The preservers are still here, though, Nightwing smiling blissfully, but secretly from its perch atop Lonehowl. The other two seem to keep to themselves though they flit about the elves and wolves cheerfully, whispering softly. Lonehowl listens faintly to the chattering between the preservers, and he can't help but get the feeling something's Not Right here. Too late to turn back now, though. Shortly, the pool looms ahead, and the Wolfrider presses on. ** We're almost to the water, Chieftess. ** There's an amount of respect there, that he calls her that. Briefly, all three preservers share a glance, then Nightwing looks ahead again. It murmurs significantly, but softly, // Sparklewaters.. // ** Water? ** Rillwhisper echoes wearily, squinting with pain-blurred vision ahead of her, trying to get a grasp on their course. Soon enough, though, the pair of elves draw up at last to the pool.... You move over to the small, inviting pool. Pool(#460R) A deep, sparkling pool has formed at the foot of the high waterfall. A rainbow glitters above the waters during the "day", and the air is warm and moist. Around the pool grow low-hanging bushes all covered in deep purple flowers, cupshaped. They fill the air with their intense, sweet scent. Evening must be approaching, for the light penetrating the clouds above is turning the sides of the mountains red. The valley floor is in emerald twilight. Obvious exits: Out Lonehowl joins you from the meadow. Lonehowl has arrived. Nightwing joins you from the meadow. Rainsweet joins you from the meadow. Upon entering the area near the pool, Nightwing lifts up from Lonehowl's head and flits away, hovering nearby. Rainsweet and Leafdrop do the same. Lonehowl looks around warily, and a couple of his wolves try to block his way to the pool, apparently not liking something. He looks questioningly down at them, then to Rillwhisper, then the preservers. ** Where... are we....? ** comes Rillwhisper's strained sending. She sags against Lonehowl when he draws to a halt, her energies beginning to fade. Leafdrop vanishes into a particularly plush-looking bushel of violet flowers; while it waits for its fellow to return, Nightwing hovers near Lonehowl, once more settling in his hair and burrowing in snugly. It purrs, // Highthing like staynear sparklewaters, yes? Maybe highthing want beesweets too? // Lonehowl frowns up at Nightwing, lifting a hand to try to pluck it out of his hair. "What do you think you're doing?" he questions, before checking on Rillwhisper again. "Is this far enough..? Or do we need to go further?" Nightwing evades Lonehowl's hand skillfully, then quickly retakes its seat the moment he draws his hand away. Rillwhisper can't quite manage to raise her head to meet Lonehowl's eyes, as the hunter props her against him. Nor can she manage to find her voice, though she sends in a faint desperate growl, ** Go.... can't... stay here, Gyrr. Can't. Danger. Go! ** ** Then we'll go. ** Lonehowl sends firmly, making an attempt to coax the wolves on, past the pool. Now, he will follow the water out of the valley, and get some when they stop. He lets Nightwing stay put, for now. Panic touches Nightwing's eyes and suddenly its fingers embed themselves in Lonehowl's hair /deep/ and /yank!/ // NO! // It squeaks. At the same instant, Leafdrop and another preserver, Rainsweet's twin, appear and dart in and out of the purplescent bushes. Clouds of pollen rise out and over, thickening the air and muffling elfin and lupine senses alike, a blanket of strangely pleasant, though unwanted drowsiness settling into place. The assurance in the hunter's sending braces up the wolf-chieftess, and with somewhat more strength, she re-tightens her grip upon his frame. But she only manages a few more steps before the Preservers launch their strike. Golden dust rains down upon her, and she sends a hazed and frantic denial even as her legs buckle beneath her. Lonehowl yelps at the sudden actions from Nightwing, and he reaches quickly to grab at it. "What in the High Ones names do you think you're doing?! Ouch!" The wolves in his pack suddenly start making a big racket over the pollen in the air, and the hunter sinks with Rillwhisper, though it's to try and keep her from falling roughly. He can't help but inhale the pollen, and quickly, his legs begin to feel like jelly. "No..what..?" // Highthings stay here! Nightwing take goodcare of! // the indigo preserver cries out in answer before releasing him, darting into the air. The pollen flies everywhere; even if the effects are not the same upon the wolves, it is enough to blind them and irritate their all too sensitive noses. Right to left, so do the preservers fly, keeping the pollen afloat even though they have since stopped shaking the bushes. ** Gyrr?! ** Rillwhisper sends thickly, the contact swirling, before the chieftess slumps over into an unmoving heap, her form slackening in Lonehowl's arms. Lonehowl holds Rillwhisper as she goes limp. ** Twyr..! ** he sends frantically, his own movements lessening by the moment. He tries to bury his nose in Rillwhisper's tunic, but it's too late to reverse the effect of the pollen. His pack whines, a couple of them trying to snap at the preservers in the air, yipping aloud. That sound reminds Lonehowl that they're still there, and in a last-ditch effort to protect them, he calls out a weak order for them to get out now, to follow the water's path out of the valley and regroup. Four obey, three do not, and Lonehowl can't do anything about them as they slump to the ground. Then he does as well, falling onto his back with Rillwhisper coming to drape over him. Then slowly, but surely, the pollen settles as well, casting a golden glitter over everything - including the elves and wolves. Hushed, the preservers descend, hovering daintily over their fallen figures. It's tiny hands clasped together, Nightwing whispers softly, ever so softly, // Nicepretty highthings.. Nightwing take goodcare of, is so? Is so.. Nightwing take goodcare of nicepretty highthings.. // [To be continued....]