"Wolfquest, Part II" Log Date: 9/15/98 Log Cast: Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt Lonehowl, a solitary Wolfrider hunter Rosebud, a Preserver Keshah, a wandering Sun Folk maiden Other Preservers What Has Gone Before: Rillwhisper, Wolfrider chieftess of the multi-blooded Wolfrider tribe, has been chased by human hunters into the vicinity of a place of danger she has visited before: a remote valley full of bizarre flowers which seem to put elves to sleep, and inhabited by Preservers bent on trapping any 'highthings' they encounter within their webs. Wounded, nearly overcome by the Tall Ones, Rillwhisper has also been unexpectedly rescued by a solitary hunter, accompanied by a full pack of no less than seven wolves... and not only has the chieftess begun the initial threads of a bonding with one of the hunter's pack, she has also Recognized the hunter, Lonehowl. But Lonehowl has also slain the youngest of the human hunters, and he fears their return and their vengeance. Goaded by Rillwhisper's anxious Preserver companion Fallberry, he and the Preserver have bound up the chieftess's broken leg, and Lonehowl has resolved to get the wounded Rillwhisper to safety as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the swiftest route has taken them straight into the heart of the Preserver valley. Fallberry has attempted to warn Lonehowl, only to be ambushed by the Preservers who dwell in the haunted, flower-filled place... and Lonehowl and Rillwhisper have themselves been ambushed by some of the local Preservers, who have shaken out handfuls of flowers over the startled elves. Overcome by the pollen the flowers produce, the chieftess and the hunter have collapsed.... ---------- Somewhere, deep down beneath layers of haze and pain and dreaming, something in the mind of Rillwhisper is uneasy. There's something decidedly wrong, and her thoughts stir with the kind of uncomprehending apprehension that a she-wolf might have in the face of an unseen, unknown peril. Flashes of memory flicker across her awareness, disjointed: a glimpse of a tall, lean frame, the scent of blood on a shoulder, an arm propping her up. And golden eyes, tugging at her. Disturbed, she tries to stir, tries to claw her way up through the haze, her mind reaching forth. ** ...... Gyrr .....? ** Lonehowl's Abodely body is at rest, an arm draped partially over the slumbering Rillwhisper in the same position back from when they passed out. When? Seconds ago? Minutes? Hours? Perhaps even days? No way of knowing - the passing of time has never been too high on Lonehowl's list of important things. And he's had some rough times before but he's always pulled through. This...situation - it's as different and as difficult as anything he's ever faced, if not moreso. But why should he not pull out of this as well? His mind, lying dormant since the Sleep came, is nudged, poked, prodded gently by the other, and initially, there's no response. Her discontent grows, and the she-wolf snaps and bites at layers of dreamy, insistent on breaking free... until at last, with a colossal effort, Rillwhisper opens her eyes, a fraction of a slit. Her head is full of cobwebs, and her senses refuse to report much to her save the overwhelming, cloying sweetness in the air.... and another scent, barely detectable, just beneath it. Close... just beneath _her_. _Hunter,_ she thinks muzzily. Guided first by smell and then by the feel of his unmoving form, she raises her head, her cheek brushing up along his chest until she can lift her gaze enough to seek his face. The solitary hunter lies still, on his back, face turned half-way into the ground. His arm is heavy over the Chieftess, seemingly devoid of any life whatsoever, though clearly, he is not dead. The slow, soft rise and fall of his chest attests to that. Back in his mind's eye, something begins to stir, the nudging having a bit of an effect on him. The beginnings of a send start up, but go no further than that, fading again. A bit of a whimper sounds in the back of Rillwhisper's throat; this, her mazed mind tells her, is bad. Very Bad. Pinned under Lonehowl's arm, she doesn't try to rise, but she does squirm, with difficulty, until she can lift a hand to brush gold-tinted dust off his features, to give her a better sight of his visage. This, and the sending she forces herself to put forth, brings a sweat of effort to her brow. ** Hunter, ** she nudges him, and then, ** Gyrr.... ** Calling, someone...calling..to him? Lonehowl's mind and body went into a deep shut-down mode, but as Rillwhisper continues to send through the heavy, thick, murky darkness in his head, one thing begins to pound through, like a shining light calling to him and no-one else. ** ....... Twyr....? ** Then, it all begins to fade again, though not yet gone. The chieftess slumps, her head bowing down to touch her forehead to Lonehowl's hair. His scent reaches her more completely now, despite the pollen-smell that blankets out almost all else, and her throat goes dry in reaction. Fortunately, she doesn't have to try to talk. ** Gyrr, ** she manages insistently, slow and thick though her sending is, ** Wake. You and I... we must... ** Rosebud perks up suddenly. Rosebud flutters around indecisively, then suddenly dives into some bushes, hiding. Like wading through a thick, sugary coating, Lonehowl's mind again takes hold of Rillwhisper's words, attepmting to latch on to them and pull himself out of this seemingly endless pit he's dropped into. His body still rests without any signs of stirring, but his mind answers, slowly, heavily. ** ..Twyr...where..? What hap..pened? So...tired.. ** With another hoarse little whimper, wolf-like, Rillwhisper nudges her head against that of the hunter, an action that makes it rather impossible for her to lift it again; the scent of his hair is captivating her, and she's breathing it in as a balm against the odor of the flowers. ** Flower... dust. Wake, Gyrr. Can't.... stay. You and I, we must... we've Recognized... we must... ** ** I..remember..valley...bugs..flowers..sleep.. ** Lonehowl's words are slow and carefully sent, a haze still weighing them down. Somewhere, he..feels the other elf there. Physically? Through their Recognition? Somehow, it simply is. Closed eyelids flutter momentarily, and a pair of fingers on his right hand twitch. ** Water..your leg...must go.. ** Keshah joins you from the meadow. Keshah has arrived. Keshah walks in with soft steps, a Goback/trollmade spear in one hand. At the sight of the two elves she stops in her tracks. Rosebud zips off in a pink blur, to warn the other preservers. More highthings! Rosebud heads for the meadow. Rosebud has left. Two elves, indeed, lying in a crumpled heap. One of them is a she-elf, her leg strangely bound in strips of wrapstuff and leather, two pieces of what's left of a human spear affixed to keep the limb straight. Her hair is red-golden, her leathers green and gold and brown, and she is currently slumped over the form of the other elf beneath her, her face buried in his dark golden hair. ** Yes, hunter, ** she sends weakly, ** go... up, get up... ** Lonehowl's lips quiver momentarily. Underneath Rillwhisper, it can be seen that his upper body is now bare, save for leather bracings below the shoulders and wrappings over his wrists. He wears a pair of brownish pants that tuck into fur-lined black boots. Next to him is his spear, untouched since he lost consciousness. Now, finally, his eyes flutter again, and at least attempt to open. ** Heavy..so...heavy, Twyr..can't move...tied down.. ** Or so it feels. Keshah's golden eyes narrow. With a slow, thoughtful gesture she pushes her tangle of dark hair out of her face. Her voice when she speaks is rough with disuse. "Two of them, and none wrapped." She scans the nearby bushes and trees, perhaps looking for preservers. Move... yes. He can't move, it dimly occurs to Rillwhisper, because she is lying on him. With much effort, she raises her head, only to meet Lonehowl's groggy golden gaze with her own. The sight halts her, driving all other thought from her brain. Two elves remain, but there are signs that wolves were here as well, for there are three spots in the area that are without that golden layer of pollen, and they look wolf-sized. However, there are no wolves present now, not even Rillwhisper's new bond, only prints left in the ground leading out along the path the water follows. As Rillwhisper shifts to move from Lonehowl's still-slumbering form, his eyes blink slowly, and his fingers curl into one hand flexing experimentally. Then...they open more forcefully. When eyes meet eyes, soul meets soul, and that happened between this pair. It's the reason Lonehowl finds strength thought to be gone and attempts to start to sit up. ** .... ** Keshah spots one of the preservers, and holds out her hand to it with a wry smile. "Let's see if you remember me." She keep a wary eye on the other elves, one hand still firmly on her spear. "Come here, and talk to me." Another voice...? Dazed, dizzy, Rillwhisper turns her head. It's a slow motion, though, and reluctant, with Lonehowl's golden gaze still tugging at her. ** ....? ** Keshah(#450P) Her dark golden skin and dainty size betray her sun folk origin, though there is something in her posture setting her apart from that peaceful tribe. Her molten gold eyes hold an inner fire, barely in check, and her nightblack hair falls down her shoulders raggedly. Her clothing is a motley of the gauzy, colorful sun folk apparel, some coarser cloth of uncertain origin, and odd bits of leather including thigh-high boots. The overall impression is one of ordered chaos. Added to the ensemble are worn but serviceable heavier leathers, suitable for the climate in the frozen north. A bronze knife glints from between the odd bits of clothing, haphazardly stuck into her belt. A bright red flower is stuck haphazardly into her dark hair. Lonehowl hears that voice as well, the sound of another barely enough to convince him to shift his attention from Rillwhisper. Perhaps the newcomer can help them out. Opening his mouth, he speaks dryly, voice cracked. "H...hep..help.." No good, and the effort alone makes him groggier. Maybe a send. ** Hello..? Help.. ** One of the twins, perhaps Rainsweet, lands on Keshah's palm, chittering excitedly in greeting. It seems she is remembered in the valley, after all. Keshah listens carefully to the rapid chatter of the bug, then regards the two elves again with renewed interest. "So." Wait. This elf.... something in Rillwhisper's memory stirs uneasily, but it flees before she can capture it. ** You, ** she sends blurrily. ** Help....? Help, please... ** Keshah places the preserver on her shoulder, and walks over to the odd couple. Her diffuse shadow falls over them, leaving her eyes glowing golden within a darker silhouette. She says, her voice slightly less rough. "You. I know you." Lonehowl groans faintly, trying to force his eyes to focus over on Keshah. Eventually, they do. He shakes his head a bit to clear off some of the pollen and clear out the cobwebs, managing not to sneeze and stir it all up again. Now as Keshah looms over the pair and recognizes Rillwhisper, he asks, ** Who..who are you? ** He manages to prop himself up at the elbows. The hunter's sitting up almost knocks Rillwhisper over. Almost... but not quite. She clings to him with one arm, planting the other down with her palm against the carpet of crushed leaves and petals beneath them both, trying to support herself. Sitting up, however, makes her head spin, and she slumps against Lonehowl, grimacing, trying to steady her thoughts. Keshah leans down, her features coming into focus even for the bedazzled elves. She seems to be unaffected by the ever-present pollen. "I am Keshah. And this is my valley." Her molten gold eyes regard Lonehowl intently. Lonehowl nearly collapses as Rillwhisper's slumping form brings him down a bit more despite her light weight. He throws what energy he's got into shifting to his side, helping to hold Rillwhisper against his bare chest again, protectively. "And..?" he queries, blinking back up at the elf he's not seen before. "Never..seen you around here." Keshah. The name seems to stir Rill anew, and the chieftess looks blearily up, even as she sags against the hunter who holds her. ** You, ** she sends again, this time with more comprehension. ** Came back? ** Keshah's lips part. Perhaps it's a smile. "I could say the same for you." Then she thrusts her spear at Rillwhisper... the point stopping a few fingers from the chief's face. "I know _her_, though." Keshah tells Rillwhisper through her teeth. "Yes. I came back. And just in time." Lonehowl may be drowsy, but that speartip pointing at Rillwhisper's face is not a smart move by any party. With a sudden growling hiss, he snaps his hand out to grab behind the tip and drive it away from Rillwhisper's face. He grunts. "Do /not/ do that." The chieftess's features tighten into something that would be a scowl, were she more alert. ** Can have the valley, ** she sends raggedly. ** Won't stay. Leaving. ** Keshah's pink tonguetip darts over her teeth briefly as she regards Lonehowl with renewed interest. Keshah says "I've heard that tale before, chief of wolfriders. But you're right. *You* will leave." ** Aye. Leaving. ** Lonehowl echoes flatly. It seems that something's stirred him up, giving him more energy to try. ** Both of us are leaving. ** he corrects, attempting to help both Rillwhisper and himself to a standing position. Keshah says "No." Color drains from Rillwhisper's already pale countenance, but she bodily staggers erect, clutching at Lonehowl's shoulders as she does. ** No choice, ** she send-growls roughly at the other she-elf. Keshah grips her spear with both hands, holding it horizontally in front of her. "You owe me, wolfrider. You owe me for the one you stole." Lonehowl's hand goes to his own spear, using it to help stand up with. His golden eyes narrow on Keshah's form. "No?" he questions, a moment of surprise passing over his features. "You dare to tell me no?" he challenges, baring his teeth. ** _Stole_? ** Rillwhisper sends win befuddlement, trying to conquer the dizziness that threatens to topple her over again. Supporting herself on the hunter's frame, half supporting _him_ in turn, she adds blurredly, ** _Saved_. Not stole. Got Talek out. ** Keshah says more firmly. "/Stole/. He was mine. He was happy, until you came." More softly. "We were happy." Then she points to Lonehowl accusingly. "I'm not going to let you do it to that one, too." Lonehowl glances between Rillwhisper and Keshah, standing on shaky legs as he still has to use his own spear to help hold the two up. "Enough." he hisses. "I don't care about what was." Glaring at Keshah, he states firmly, "No elf owns another. You don't own me, and I will be leaving with Rillwhisper. Get in my way at your own risk." ** Got you out, too, ** Rillwhisper growl-sends at Keshah, the words still blurred together at the edges. ** Talek's at Willowholt. Could have stayed with-- ** She cuts off, though, as she tries to shift her weight, and her broken leg complains sharply in protest. Her head lolls a little, her eyes clamping shut. Keshah raises her spear at Lonehowl, eyes glittering with the first true sign of anger... and then, as suddenly as it appeared, the expression is gone and she lowers her eyes and replies quietly. "You are right, of course. Forgive my lack of manners. It seems I have spent too much time with the Gobacks." Lonehowl's upper lip curls as Keshah's spear is lifted towards him, hackles raising, in effect. Were he not so out of it, that would have been enough to see him charge her to remove the spear from her hands. Instead, the best he can do is snarl, voice cracking. "Don't point that where it doesn't belong. That's twice, now." He snorts at her sudden apology, instead shifting most of his attention back to Rillwhisper. Sending privately and only to her, he asks, ** Twyr..? Are you well? <> We have to get out, still. ** He draws her closer to his body with the arm opposite his spear, protectively. Keshah says meekly. "I have been amiss. Your friend is wounded, nameless one. She should rest here until mended." Keshah makes a small gesture to the blue preserver, sending it fluttering off. ** ..... must..... ** That's all Rillwhisper sends. Between the pollen clouding her thoughts, the dull throb all up and down the length of her leg, and the equally dull throb where her skull had smacked a rock on her tumbling course down the mountain, the chieftess has hold of her consciousness by only a ragged, fraying edge. Only Lonehowl's scent and sending are keeping her awake, a back corner of her mind growling faintly with need. ** Dizzy, ** she reports to the hunter's private anxious query. Her thoughts are graying at their fringes. Rainsweet, or perhaps Sweetrain, obeys Keshah's quiet order. Fetching others of the fair, it chirps happily as it gathers pollen-heavy flowers for the nice highthing! Keshah takes a step back, smiling faintly at Lonehowl. "Yes. You will rest. And then we will speak again. Preservers, do." Lonehowl continues to send support to Rillwhisper, figuring out that she needs it to help maintain consciousness. Then he shakes his head at Keshah. "No. Didn't you hear me the first time? No. We are leaving this place." He is aware of preservers beginning to flit about again, and a sense of urgency fills him. Faster now, he starts moving himself and Rillwhisper away. "No.." Stumbling, already unsteady and dizzy, Rillwhisper lifts her head in time to see Keshah's order enacted. A sharp wordless protest is all she can gather the strength to send, and she starts to try to lift a hand, to bat the bugs away.... Colorful preservers zip through the air, scattering the heady pollen over the paired elves as they sing happily and praise their own cleverness. Keshah watches for a short while, then slips away the way she came. Keshah heads for the meadow. Keshah has left. Lonehowl coughs, choking and sneezing on the pollen as once again, it invades him and Rillwhisper. "No..." he repeats, unable to resist that urge to just lie down and rest again. In his already weakened state, it comes quickly. With little more than a groan, he slumps forward and crumples to the ground again, this time on his chest. His spear falls next to him. Toppling over onto her back, Rillwhisper emits a weak cough of her own. The flower-dust falls all over her, dusting her white countenance with gold, and she blinks muzzily as the stuff fills her vision. ** Gyrr, ** she sends in hazed desperation, still somehow managing to cling to him. Lonehowl isn't gone quite yet, but once again, he's fading fast. ** Twyr.. ** he send-murmurs, the single name thick as ever from the weight of sleep coming on. Then, shortly, he loses consciousness once more. [To be continued...]