"Wolfquest, Part 4" Log Date: 9/16/98, 9/21/98, 9/22/98 Log Cast: Lonehowl, solitary Wolfrider hunter Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt, Recognized to Lonehowl Nightwing, a Preserver Leafdrop, a Preserver Rainsweet, a Preserver Sweetrain, a Preserver What Has Gone Before: Willowholt chieftess Rillwhisper and the hunter she has unexpectedly Recognized, Lonehowl, are in dire straits. With Rillwhisper wounded, the two are vulnerable to the effects of the sleep-inducing flowers that infest the hidden valley in which they are stranded... and vulnerable to the band of Preservers determined to see them in wrapstuff. Rillwhisper has already come close to being fully wrapstuffed, and has been saved only by Lonehowl's timely awakening, her soul's call tugging him into awareness and giving them both enough strength to resist the flowers' golden dust. So far, neither of them are the slightest bit aware that the Sun Village maiden Keshah, who holds a grudge against the chieftess for 'stealing' the dreamlost Talek out of the valley long ago, plans to keep Lonehowl to herself... and get rid of the bothersome Wolfrider he seems to need. For now, chieftess and hunter have enough trouble wrestling with pollen-sleep and stubborn Preservers.... ---------- It's been some time since the Preservers scattered and left the two elves to succumb once more to the effects of the pollen. When they last fell asleep, Lonehowl had made it to Rillwhisper and dozed off in her arms, after freeing her from the beginnings of a wrapstuffing. Now, he's shifted enough to lie on his back about two or three hands from her. There are dried streaks of red on his face and upper body from the scratching earlier, and a few nicks can be seen on his fingers. He is expressionless. Rillwhisper has not stirred much at all, save for turning her head in the hunter's direction, her hand extended out towards his prone form. Strands of wrapstuff still cling to her limbs and her leathers, though Lonehowl had managed to cut her free. One by one, tiny heads pop out of the surrounding foliage dotted with violet blossoms. First Nightwing, dark blue and irritated. Then Leafdrop, leaf-green and yellowy, its eyes blinking rapidly. Finally the twins, their identical, pale blue features twisted slightly with uncertainty. // Is still there? // one whispers to Nightwing, who perches higher than the rest. // Is still there, // the indigo Preserver confirms, reddish eyes slightly narrow. Lonehowl's slumber isn't quite as deep as it has been before, and he's had a chance to build up a little stamina and energy, lying still and coping with things. But there's also something else inside that causes him to stir - the need..the definite need to fulfill his Recognition with Rillwhisper. It helps his eyes to flutter, and he lifts his hands to rub at them, moving to sit up. Still, the chieftess lies prone, her breathing slow and soft, her eyes closed. Her face and hair are still streaked with flower-dust, along with the rest of her, even the wrapstuff and leather that hold her broken leg immobile. // Manygrowlers highthing awake! // The hushed whisper rushes through the small crowd of Preservers, wings aflitter and eyes blinking rapidly. Nightwing's face contorts in a detailed grimace, its lower lip a moment later jutting out in a pout. // Naughtybad highthing! // it comments softly, but vehemently. // Cut prettypretty wrapstuff before all-finished! Messymuch! // Lonehowl yawns, lifting his arms in a stretch, before coming back down to scratch his sides. He finds his mouth dry and his stomach rumbling. Need to eat and drink something. It's forgotten for a moment as he hears the whispering of the Preservers, causing him to look their way, focusing in on them with his golden-hued eyes. . o O (....) Got to get out with Rillwhisper. Right. He even manages to stand up, slowly. The moment he looks, the Preservers all but vanished, a small amount of pollen shaken up by the sudden multiple movements in unison, most of it drifting away harmlessly, but some small amount - enough to be scented and leave an effect - drifts towards the Wolfrider pair, bringing its distancing effects with it. Lonehowl's eyes are keen enough to notice, and they narrow faintly. As the pollen drifts his way, he reaches down for a torn fragment of what used to be his top, covering his mouth to breath through it. No harm done. Preserver eyes watch from the bushes. A few incoherent mutters of irritation are heard, but little else is audible or seen. "I know you're all hiding," Lonehowl speaks dryly, his voice faintly cracked from disuse. "You might as well come out." He coughs once, as he finishes, stealing a glance Rillwhisper's way. No answer. Nothing that he could detect anyway. The chieftess remains unmoving where she lies. A slight distressed furrow to her brow is the only marring of an otherwise deeply tranquil visage, and her breast rises and falls with infinite slowness. If that's how it's going to be, fine. Stay away, Preservers, and Lonehowl will have no trouble getting out with Rillwhisper. No trouble at all. He removes the leather from his mouth so he can take a breath that's not as muffled, and turns back to Rillwhisper, kneeling before her to brush some of the pollen away from her face, gently. Rill's lips part a trifle as fingers, elfin ones, larger and with far more benign intent than those of the little winged ones, brush against her cheek. Her head turns fractionally in their direction, and a faint sigh slips out of her. A slight rustle in some nearby bushes might draw attention, but as no pollen comes and the rustle is brief, it may be forgotten quickly. Lonehowl smiles faintly down at Rillwhisper, content at the minimal reaction from her. It's a start, sure to improve once gone from this thrice-cursed place. He breathes in and out carefully, avoiding as much of any pollen as he can, before he extends a hand to pick away more of the wrapstuff cocoon-to-be that he cut earlier. He pauses, blinking at the dried blood on one hand, not sure how it happened. Tiny twitchings of one or two of the fingers of Rillwhisper's right hand are the next sign that there might be a perturbation of her consciousness in progress. That hand then grudgingly moves, groping blindly for the hunter, while her eyes remain firmly shut. Another rustle, closer by, but not very. A leaf shaken loose drifts aimlessly to the ground. Now comes the hard part. Lonehowl reaches out to Rillwhisper, and musters the strength to lift her limp form to her feet, nuzzling at her cheek once while he does so. As long as the Preservers hide, he'll keep up the escape attempt. He's sure they'll come out sooner or later, but he doesn't exactly have a plan of action when they do. Pulled into Lonehowl's arms, Rillwhisper begins to stir somewhat more. Her arms are first, curling automatically around him as though they were rivulets following their natural flow; then her head shifts, lolling a touch sideways at her cheek's being nuzzled, before turning to nuzzle in return against the shoulder against which it's been braced. And slowly, ever so slowly, her mind creeps into life. ** ....... ** Be careful what you wish for.. well, even if you didn't wish for it this time. As Lonehowl crouches, the Preservers start to emerge; as Rillwhisper is lifted into his arms, they start to glide towards him quickly; and, finally, when nuzzle meets cheek, they're everywhere. Like a swarm of bees consisting of only four, six-inch tall bees, they dart at his head, wrapstuff suddenly spooting everywhere. // Nogo! Nogo! Highthings stayhere, nogo! NOGO! // ** Time to go, Twyr.. ** Lonehowl sends privately to his Recognized mate, ready to get out of here. But then, the Preservers launch their attack. The nuzzle left him momentarily vulnerable, and he doesn't even notice them until he's being spat at. "N-no..!" he balks, ducking the first bit of spoo, but some of it tangles in his hair. ** Twyr! ** Somewhere, deep within, she hears him calling, Gyrr, hunter, Lonehowl. She opens her eyes. She peers blearily upward. And she lets out a noise that's half moan and half growl as a part of her locates the imminent danger. Rillwhisper staggers in Lonehowl's support, trying to tug him away. Silver lining flies, catching in Lonehowl's hair, clinging to his arms. It's not thick enough to form a layer yet, more erratic sticky threads than anything else, but there are four of them and they are swift, and High Ones! are they angry. // Nogo! Sunnygreen highthing and manygrowlers highthing stayhere! stay snugsafe! Nogo! // Lonehowl yelps, waving a free hand at the Preservers that would see his escape thwarted, getting the strands caught on his arms, in his hair, between his fingers. It makes his efforts much less than effective, and he shouts, "Get away from us! We can't stay here! We have to go!" It's not getting him very far, but he tries to move forward, through the buzzing Preservers. ** Twyr..! They're...spitting..trying to stop us! ** Wrapped...? _No_, Rillwhisper's mind rebels, _we can't, the cub...!_ And she coughs out, lifting her head and stumbling with Lonehowl without knowing what direction their feet are taking, "Stop....! No... no highbaby, if you wrap us...!" At first the other three Preservers continue their assualt, either oblivious or ignorant of Rillwhisper's cry. But the moment Nightwing cries out in sharp command, it all comes to a sudden and abrupt halt as the indigo Preserver hovers, eyes wide and horrified with a thin thread of wrapstuff hanging out of the corner of its mouth. // Is true? // it squeaks. // No highbaby? // The chieftess's balance is precarious at best, with only one working leg and a head that still hasn't issued any approval of this concept of 'standing', much less 'fleeing'. She clings to Lonehowl's sturdier frame, and rasps out huskily, "It's true. Can't make highbaby, if you wrap us..." Most of Lonehowl's upper body is covered in thin strands of wrapstuff - quite a messy, sticky predicament, but not enough 'stuff to cause him to go into that slumber it brings on. Sputtering, his spoken words are a mumbled mess. "MMmph! *koff* Aye..have..cub.." // Is fib! // cries one of the Preservers in protest. // Highthings fib so not get wrapstuffed! Is fib! Is not-- // // Quiet! // Nightwing cuts off sharply, delicate features contorted with indecision. It flits back to the highthings, closer so that it can peer at their faces, then looks in between them. // Is true? No highbaby? Nomake baby if wrapstuffed? // Clutching at Lonehowl as she is, much of Rillwhisper has been caught in the strands as well. She tries to fumble one arm free, while hanging on for dear life with the other to the elf at her side. And she lifts her bleary gaze as best she can to the fluttering Nightwing, though the effort it costs her to focus on the bug nearly crosses her eyes. "It's true," she whispers. Lonehowl is forced to sacrifice talking in the interest of trying to clear the sticky stuff from his face and arms and hair. The hair's going to be a problem. . o O (Puckernuts..hate this..cursed bugs..) He manages at least a nod about making a baby. For a moment, the bug ponders, then retreats slowly backwards to its fellows, gathering. A round of chatter rises up amongst the bugs, Nightwing's attention temporarily taken from the highthing pair. The four bugs hover in a circle, their voices raised in frantic and angry denial as it seems Nightwing's opinion differs from its followers. Forced to cling to the young hunter by the wrapstuff and by her own body's needs, Rillwhisper picks half-blindly at some of the strands sloppily binding them together. Her face begins to sheen over in sweat with the effort it takes her to stay on her feet, and to send weakly, ** Gyrr... I can't... run, not with my leg hurt...! ** Lonehowl's own upper body is wet with the exertion, and some of the pollen and wrapstuff combine to make quite a mess of him. ** Twyr..we have to get out of her while we can..I'll help you! ** He gives up on getting the mucky stuff from his hair, istead focusing past the Preservers, along the way the water runs from outside the valley. "Let us go..have to..finish..Recognition..." And then the Preservers are back in front of them again, Nightwing hovering with arms folded, its followers flitting about behind it. // Nightwing make decision! // it informs them with a stubborn air to its voice, apparently oblivious to the highthings's conversation. "You have to let us go," mumbles Rillwhisper to the bug, her voice breathy and faint. Most of her strength goes into her sending to her companion: ** ** // Highthings no go! // The Preserver looks startled by the thought, but hides it with a tilt of its head. // But.. Highthings make highbaby first. .Then. Nightwing do wrapstuff. // ** <> ** Lonehowl's upper lip curls slightly, looking through narrowing eyes at Nightwing. "And what decision is that, bug?" he half-snarls, not at all stopping to listen. At the suggestion, he shakes his head vehemently. "/Not/ staying here." Rillwhisper hauls in a breath, needing every bit of air she can pull into her lungs to burst out with, "No highbaby if I'm in wrapstuff, bug! Highbaby won't come!" Nightwing's lower lip juts out in a pout at Lonehowl's growl, then even further at Rillwhisper's outburst. // Is so! // it argues, though its point is somewhat invalid. // Nightwing want take goodcare of sunnygreen highthing and manygrowlers highthing AND new-highbaby! Highthings stay here, make highbaby, Nightwing wrapstuff.. keep all snugsafe!! // Lonehowl bares teeth at Nightwing, to the point of actually snapping his teeth at it. "I /said/ we're not staying here!" Well, his temper's rising. He pauses to pick some more wrapstuff from his face, snarling. "We don't need you to take care of us. We'll be better /away/ from this place!" ** Twyr...how are you? <> ** Rillwhisper makes a tiny noise that would, if it were coming out of a lupine throat, be a whine. She turns her head toward his chest, her arms tightening reflexively around him. There comes an ominous beat before she sends plaintively, ** We should move... I don't know... how much longer I can stand up... ** Nightwing warns Lonehowl, // Highthing better hushup quick or Nightwing fill bigfatmouth with wrapstuff! No NEED mouth for highbaby making! // Lonehowl simply growls again at Nightwing, ignoring the little pest. It's better he give Rillwhisper more of his attention, and he wraps his arms around her firmly, but not uncomfortably. ** I'll get us out, bugs or no. I won't let you down, Twyr. I can't. ** He moves to head on past the bugs. ...and earns a nice sticky faceful of wrapstuff. // Nightwing said, NO GO!! // Rillwhisper sends fuzzily, ** ** And then, just as Nightwing attacks yet again, she coughs, and then hollers, "No...! _Stop!_ L... listen, bug!" Lonehowl nearly chokes on the faceful of wrapstuff, having to stop again to pull it away from himself. Predictably, his hand becomes covered in the stuff. ** ! ** Nightwing shakes midair, tiny hands balled up into fists and its face flushed with anger so dark its indigo becomes a temporary deep violet. // Oooooooooh!! // Not a happy bug, this. But Rillwhisper gains its attention, if only for the moment, and the sunnygreen highthing finds herself the new target of the Preserver's wine-red glare. // What? // "Trade," Rillwhisper coughs hoarsely. "Trade you. Let us make the highbaby... then let... Lonehowl go... you can have me." Lonehowl sputters again, though it's as much from Rillwhisper's offer of a trade as it is from the goo in his face. "What..! No! I won't let them keep you here!" He balks, shaking his head back and forth. The Preserver's eyes seem to light up like twin candle-flames. // Ooooh. // Keep highthing AND highbaby? It would lose the boy-highthing, but.. no loss there. Manygrowlers highthing not nicemuch to Nightwing anyway. It's hands clasp together, jaw slightly agape. // Is so? Is truth? // ** You can run, hunter... I can't... ** comes the sending from the chieftess. ** Find... Fallberry... my knife. Brightmetal knife. Dropped. You must...! Then come back, free me... and cub... ** Rillwhisper weakly lifts her head, and stares as steadily as she can at the Preserver. "Is truth." Lonehowl's mouth parts, looking slack-jawed at Rillwhisper. To leave her when he could get her out - that's not the Way to him! ** But... ** he protests weakly, about the best he can manage right this moment. ** Twyr..we both...have to go..! ** He looks quickly between her and the Preservers. Happy happy, joy joy! // Yaaaaaaaayy! // Nightwing spirals upwards, then dips back to where it hovered before, dancing a bit midair. // Is so? Is so? Is truth? IS TRUTH! Nightwing takecare of highthing AND high-baby? Nightwing like! Yesyesyes! // Slowly and painedly, Rillwhisper turns her swimming head round to meet Lonehowl's anxious amber gaze with her own green one. ** Can't go on this leg, ** she tells him faintly. ** Find my knife... Fallberry... your wolves! Easier for me to go, then...! ** To Nightwing, she croaks, "No wrapstuff... highbaby won't come, if you wrapstuff me!" Lonehowl exhales slowly through his nostrils, /not/ liking this a bit. Not at all. ** Twyr...we have to..finish this..it pulls at me.. ** He looks quickly at the Preservers. "No..you can't wrapstuff her..the cub won't be born!" Nightwing's face falls, its disappointment evident, but it nods grudgingly in reply. // Is so, // it mumbles. // Nightwing no wrapstuff. // Her arms still encircle the hunter, and her green gaze still remains locked upon his face. To the Preserver, she barks out huskily, "None of your... friends... wrapstuff me either. Or I don't stay!" ** Yes, Gyrr... ** Lonehowl continues to hold Rillwhisper close. It's been..a day? Two days? since he rescued her from the human hunters and their souls met. Inexperienced with Recognitions, it makes him weaken a bit more the longer it goes unfulfilled, and all that pollen and exertion certainly hasn't helped him. ** <> Twyr..I..I'll go out..to recover..but I can't unless we..finish this first..I can't go much longer otherwise.. ** Looking back to the Preservers, he asks a question, sounding a lot more civil than before, "Will you listen to me for a moment?" // Other wethings no wrapstuff, // Nightwing promises, but not before casting a pointed Look at its followers and earning grudging nods in return. // Sunnygreen highthing no wrapstuff before highbaby comes. Nightwing say so! // Then it blinkblinks twice, looking to Lonehowl curiously as it is addressed. // Manygrowlers highthing? // Shivering with the force of her concentration and the force of the unfulfilled need within her -- the latter beginning to hamper the former, driving the lingering flower-induced dizziness from her brain, supplanting it with a far more elemental, fundamental dizziness -- Rillwhisper sways against Lonehowl. Relief fills her, and she manages to send it, along with her consent to free him from the drive that's caught them both, so that he might flee and return later. But her sending wavers, as her mouth brushes his chest, her breath warm against his skin. Lonehowl sways in place, doing his best to support both himself and Rillwhisper. Looking somewhat painfully at the Preservers, he explains slowly, with words from a dry mouth, "We..have to..finish what began earlier..before I can leave.. If I leave now, there may be no cub.." Nightwing looks amused. // Nightwing .know. that, silly highthing! Highthings need MAKE highbaby before highbaby come! // And it giggles silverly, the other Preservers joining in, as if sharing a private joke. "Let us be for a bit," Rillwhisper groans thickly towards the Preservers, though she doesn't lift her head from Lonehowl's muscled frame. Lonehowl nods slightly at Rillwhisper's suggestion, not answering the laughter from the Preservers. Can't spare the energy to. "Aye..we need to..be alone." Another soft burst of silvery giggles, and then the Preservers vanish into the nearby bushes, the leaves rustling slightly. Colorful glimpses might be caught here and there as the Preservers check in to make certain the highthings are still there, or to watch silently with secret smiles. But for the most part it is as if they are gone. Nightwing has left. Rillwhisper's gaze slowly, ever so slowly, lifts once more to Lonehowl's visage. Her green eyes have begun to spark, yearning making her regard rather sharper than it's been at all in the last span of hours... and indeed, arguably, since Lonehowl first laid eyes upon her lying wounded on the hillside. Rainsweet has left. Leafdrop has left. By now, Lonehowl couldn't care less whether anyone watched this part or not. The pull - what a pull it is! - is strong enough to give him the energy needed to do this, despite his weakened, partially wrapstuffed form. He looks down at Rillwhisper, a bit more life in those amber eyes of his. ** Twyr...it's time..at last. ** A slight smile pulls at Rillwhisper's lips, curling their ends upward. She sends her assent, her throat far too dry to speak, and with her arms, she tugs slightly at Lonehowl's frame. Down, the gesture says without word or send. Lonehowl growls deeply in his throat at Rillwhisper - certainly not an angry one. He doesn't object at all to lowering to the ground, hugging the chieftess to his body, drinking in her scent. Down into the carpet of petals and crumpled leaves, then, the two elves descend. Loose golden clouds waft briefly into the air as they lie down together, but now, with the Recognition driving the both, the pollen merely casts a faint golden haze round all else outside the entwined pair as they willingly give themselves over to the demands of the bond that has sprung up between them. [And, a while later....] Silence in the valley, save that of the two elves together in the most intimate of joinings - one born of Recognition. The preservers who watched and giggled for a time have since scattered, off to spread their trouble elsewhere in the valley. Now, left alone, Lonehowl and Rillwhisper have the whole area to themselves, despite the dangers within. Lonehowl lies on his side, his warm, muscular arms holding the chieftess against his naked body gently, caringly, for she'll be the one to bear his cub. Though both are tired from the pollen and the physical joining, sleep is kept at bay. The hunter's hands move slowly along Rillwhisper's back, his head tucked partially against her neck and shoulder. ** Twyr.. ** he send-murmurs, wearily. Within his embrace, the chieftess is sweat-sheened, quivering a little. Her breath is ragged, warm against dark golden hair; there is a flavor of pain somewhere hiding in her sending, for the making of the cub has been awkward with her broken leg still encased in the bindings of wrapstuff and leather and what's left of the Tall One's spear. But Rillwhisper's thoughts are otherwise clear and bright, and she sends back Lonehowl's soulname in reply, gently. ** Aye, Gyrr? ** Lonehowl's cheek nuzzles slowly along Rillwhisper's, a faint shiver still running over his body, also covered in sweat. ** Oh, Twyr...that was..amazing.. <> ** His warm breath leaves his mouth rhythmically, flowing over the chieftess' shoulder, a low, soft rumble deep in the hunter's throat. His hands continue to move slowly over your back as he holds you close, giving a sense of protectiveness that he doesn't want to let go of. A quiver that might be a chuckle vibrates through the chieftess's slight form, for slight she is, despite the fitness of her frame. ** That was Recognition, ** she tenderly, amusedly replies. Content to hold Lonehowl near, she keeps her eyes closed, her cheek close to his, her physical senses still caught up in his warmth and scent. Her mental ones, however... she sends again, an image, a memory, still resonating and immediate. And for all her seeming confidence, the she-elf's thoughts hold a measure of awe. ** You feel the cub, don't you....? ** ** Aye. Like I said, amazing.. ** Lonehowl replies to Rillwhisper's first sent words, one of his hands moving higher up to intermix with her hair, stroking through it slowly. His other hand helps to hold you in place, as he tilts his head to tickle your ear with his tongue, caressing it slowly. ** Not sure..what I feel right now aside from you, Twyr.. ** The hunter wins himself a slight tremor of the chieftess's frame, a slight tightening of her arms about him, at that tickle to her tapered ear. ** That would be my ear, ** she clarifies wryly, ** in case you have left the word for it somewhere in wolf-thought... ** Lonehowl mmmrrrs, stopping to nibble around that ear. ** And such a beautiful ear it is, Twyr. ** he growls softly, rather liking when you pull him closer. This intimacy, this closeness - he basks in it, and you. ** And I remembered the name for your ear, Chieftess. <> ** He nuzzles again, twirling a finger around a lock of hair, stalling as that sending shows him that sense of golden eyes. "Mmmmm..." Another soft chuckle rumbles through Rillwhisper's slender frame. Drawing her fingers through Lonehowl's tumbled golden brown hair, she murmursends, ** Your first Recognition, hunter? ** ** Aye..how many does an elf have? ** the hunter wonders, half-amused. He shifts against you enough so his face comes closer to yours, and he nuzzles your cheek again, before he tugs at your lower lip gently with his teeth, breathing softly. He sends. ** I didn't know what it was before. Now..I'll never forget. <> ** His hands continue to function as they were. Rillwhisper's expression softens; so does her sending, at these continued attention. ** It can happen more than once, ** she confides, her fingers tracing the shape of muscles she can reach, answering nuzzles with nuzzles. ** Such has happened, in my tribe... ** Once more she trails off, distracted by the intimate attentions of the lean hands travelling along her form. The fairly young hunter sends acknowledgement, slowing to rest his cheek against yours again. ** More than once.. If so, I hope it can be as nice as this one.. ** That hand in your hair holds your head against his, his breath falling softly on your ear again. Holding you tenderly, he drinks in your scent, finding it nothing short of heart-stopping. ** Twyr..tell me about your tribe. <> ** His sending, Rill thinks to herself, is dizzying, and she finds herself thinking of the Daystar's warmth upon the earth, or perhaps a wolf growling behind Dawn's softest, sleekest leather. Her own breath catches slightly in her throat, and she cannot help but comply with the sent entreaty. Twining one arm round Lonehowl's neck, the other round his side, she begins to make her answer. ** We are the Willowholt.... Wolfriders... elves of other kinds, too. Healers.... shapers... there is much magic in my tribe, Gyrr.... ** Lonehowl settles for holding mostly still, save for periodical nuzzling, licking of ears, and gentle nibbling, that hand sifting through your hair slowly. There's a...wildness to him, it seems - but with you, he's rather tame. He pauses as you send to him images and words of the tribe you lead, offering slight surprise at the 'sight' of furred elves - ones he's never seen before. However, no questions are coming from him about them. ** It all looks..very nice. Like a good place for a tribe.. ** His sending trails off slowly, and this might be the time where another elf would sigh, longing for the company of others in a tribe. But not Lonehowl - he's always felt most comfortable on his own, with his pack. Perhaps that's why this Recognition was such a shock to his entire being. He'd never /been/ so close with another elf before, up until now, though his actions and instincts surely suggest otherwise. ** You have some of Glider height, I see. ** In his travels, he's of course come across the taller elves. ** They can be a real pain sometimes. The Mountain ones, at least. I noticed...you have no pack? No wolves? ** For he saw none in the images. Rillwhisper pulls back a little, but only enough to meet golden eyes with her own startled green. ** You know about the Mountain...? ** she blurts, taken by surprise, enough that she forgets the latter question. Lonehowl's amber orbs meet your leaf-colored ones, little more than slits. Smiling faintly, he nods. ** Who doesn't? Are we not only at most, an eight of days' distance from this cursed valley? Besides, I've seen their hunters, and followed their paths across the skies on their great birds. ** If anything, he's surprised that you're surprised, and he opens his eyes a bit further, looking at you questioningly. ** And how do /you/ know of the Mountain, beautiful Twyr? ** He ducks his head down to lick around your lips as he sends your name. The chieftess actually blushes a little, but a smile curves her mouth beneath Lonehowl's caressing one. ** One of my tribe is Glider... he Recognized , they have had _three_ cubs. There are two others in my tribe who have Glider blood, as well. The Mountain... doesn't leave us alone as much as I'd like. ** ** So they give you trouble.. ** Lonehowl seems a bit upset by that, because it must be something that causes you trouble and stress at times. ** So long as they don't cause you and yours danger, I suppose.. ** Again, his words trail off, actions speaking instead for him. 'Feeling' your smile, he grins, and flicks the tip of his tongue against your nose, before going back to your mouth, which he attempts to slide his tongue into. It takes Rillwhisper a noticeable lag of time before she is eventually able to reply, unsteadily, ** Hunter, if you keep that up, you're going to make me forget myself... ** She does not, however, forget herself enough to lose track of his question, at least not this time. ** The Mountain... hasn't caused us trouble _lately_. The Mountain Lord was even... kind, when last I was in the place. ** A kind of stillness steals across her frame, a hint of puzzlement creeps into her sending. Lonehowl's answering is a send-chuckle. ** Sorry, Twyr..wouldn't want you forgetting who you are, would we? ** Though his tongue explores for a moment or two, touching teeth, he withdraws at the somewhat confused sending he gets. Perhaps that wasn't the right thing to do. To make amends, he just holds you close to him again, resting such that ears nearly touch each other. ** Their...Lord? You mean chief? <> Eh..let's hope they continue to let your tribe be in peace. ** ** Aye, they call their chieftain 'Lord'.... ** Rillwhisper sends no image to go with that 'Lord', but her mental contact takes on a darker tang even as she cuddles her head close in against the broad shoulder beside it. And she send-murmurs gravely, ** Aye... I hope so... ** ** I always thought those flying elves were strange.. ** Lonehowl sends lightly, sensing that darkening bit that creeps into your own sending. In answer to that, he just holds you closer, projecting a sense of safety, a sense that he won't let anybody bring you harm. Not while he's here. A soft sigh slides out of the chieftess, and after a moment, her head still nestled there against that shoulder, she sends very softly, ** ** Lonehowl isn't used to having anybody /to/ protect, which makes it mean that much more when he does. He goes back to sifting through your hair while one hand caresses up and down your back, rubbing and massaging along the way. He nibbles around your ear again, sending distractedly. ** How does your leg feel? <> ** He knows he agreed to leave after this, but...oh, how he'd like this never to end. It would seem that Rillwhisper is rather loathe to leave the warm circle of the arms holding her, herself. She considers, then sends bravely, honestly, ** It... hurts. It'll make it cursed hard for me to keep up the hunt... ** That brave sending of hers, though, wavers a little -- from tiredness, perhaps, or the languor of the flower-dust threatening to settle over her again. Lonehowl continues to attend to you, only halting in his nibbling to instead nuzzle some more, breathing in the scent contained in your hair. Seriousness rings in his reply. ** We have to get you out, soon as we can. I /don't/ want to leave you here! But..I must - only for a short time, though. I'll be back, with my wolves, and then we'll leave this thrice-cursed place. With /your/ bug, too. ** He absolutely refuses to be affected in any way by the flower-dust, instead drawing on an inner strength and the desire to come through for you. The chieftess, wrestling with weakness though she might be, nevertheless finds the energy to squeeze the sturdy figure of the father of the cub beginning to grow within her. ** Wolves, ** she sends bemusedly. ** I... I think I bonded with one of them... all of them, yours? ** ** I'd noticed. ** Lonehowl answers, returning the squeeze fondly. ** Mine, aye. Well, no...not mine, but I..they choose to stay with me, and I appreciate their company. They listen to me, and we hunt and howl and live free, together. Nothing feels better than riding into the hunt with them. ** He exhales softly, already missing the bond he shares with his pack. ** The one you're close with..you and he seem..meant for each other. ** Lonehowl reconsiders something. ** Well, up until this, here, nothing felt better.. ** He smiles. That makes Rillwhisper pull back slightly again, turning about to meet Lonehowl's gaze with her own once more. Her expression has gentled even further, her eyes full of wonder at the sendings being laved upon her... or perhaps more properly, the emotions behind them. ** We... don't have any wolves, ** she sends before she realizes she intended to do so. ** I've... been looking for wolves... ** Lonehowl leans away enough to look into your eyes again, blinking slowly. Figuring out rather easily what this is coming to, he finishes for you. ** And you'd..hoped maybe my pack could go back with you, Twyr? ** He quiets, thinking solemnly. Moving a hand to brush gently against your cheeks, he send-murmurs, ** It would be..different, without my pack. They're my family now...but maybe you need them more..for your tribe. ** Shutting his eyes, he exhales slowly, deeply. ** When I get out of here and come back for you - when we're both out - I'll ask them what /they/ want to do. ** Rillwhisper's eyes turn liquid, a little dazed, as only just now does the enormity of what has happened to her begins to sink into her mind. At the hunter's touch upon her cheek, she pulls in a breath, but her eyes never leave him. ** I... Gyrr, I... ** Her sending falters. Chieftess though Rillwhisper might be, still, there is vulnerability beneath that chief's lock, and she knows it, and she knows that Gyrr knows it, too. Acknowledging that vulnerability even as it shows itself in her sending, she manages to continue, ** I hadn't thought to ask... ** ** No need to ask, Twyr..the wolves will decide where they'll go. That has been, and will always be, the Way. ** Lonehowl smiles a reassuring smile, attempting to show all is well. Continuing to caress your face tenderly, he goes on. ** If they decide to remain with me, you'll find your own pack sometime. When isn't important. But if they go with you, don't worry about me. I'll find another. What's meant to be, will. ** To this, she makes no immediate reply. Then, her eyes close for a moment; opening, they're very full, glints of green and gold and grey refracting and reflecting the depth to which the core of Twyr has been shaken. Her sending, too, relays it, for all that the chieftess is trying to cling to her strength. ** ** is all that she manages to send, before her eyes quiver closed, her throat rippling slightly as she swallows. And it's not until your eyes close that Lonehowl's own eyes cloud over, for despite his words, he knows the weight of the whole situation. There's no way he couldn't. Drawing close to you again, he takes you into a warm embrace, blinking at the send-sensations from you. ** Strength, Twyr..you're a chieftess, and I'm just a wandering hunter. The wolves will know best what to do. ** He returns that sense of admiration, stronger than yours is of him. No stranger to either physical or mental intimacy, Rillwhisper is not entirely sure why the hunter's arms about her and the sending that enfolds her just as assuredly soak into her like rain into thirsty leaves. Perhaps it's left over from the Recognition, she muses? But she also sends, finding herself sounding slightly embarrassed for the admission, ** Only chief because no one else would... ** ** No matter, Twyr..that means you're stronger still, to take the position. ** Lonehowl stays close, sharing his warmth with yours, and his thoughts with yours, head once again settling beside yours. ** And you have a tribe to return to. How long have you been from them? ** It's good, bizarrely good, to be held like this, to be able to send these things, and Rillwhisper begins to relax in that shielding embrace, her eyes closed, nestled close. ** Nearly... an eight of turns of the seasons, I think. A long time... ** A simple question, yet still, a powerful one from the hunter. ** Why? ** He doesn't know the details, but initially, he cannot fathom why someone would leave their tribe for so long. It takes Rillwhisper a bit of a pause to answer, sheltered though she is in Lonehowl's embrace. Then, slowly, she ventures, ** I... had to go. To look for wolves. We've been without a pack for so long, our chief female wasn't having cubs and none of the others could oust her. Our wolf-friends got old... died. So I went to find us a new pack. ** She pauses. That's the _easy_ half of the answer, and her consternation over how to express the rest of it can be tasted in her still-open mind. That explains the need for Lonehowl's pack. The hunter moves a hand to brush you hair back from the sides of your face slowly, soothingly, growling gently in his throat. ** Aye..it happens. Go on, if you feel like it.. <> ** Her head turns slightly towards those brushing fingers, drawn there unerringly not only by the lingering bond of the Recognition -- but also by simple need, after seasons of solitude. ** Didn't.... want to tell the others much, ** she confesses gruffly. ** Only Woodhawk and Trollkiller... my mates. I've been... ** A frown. Then, she drops into wordless relaying of what's in her head, finding it easier. ** ** Lonehowl bites his lower lip gently, easily sensing the discomfort in you from your words, images, and feelings. "Shhhh..." he attempts to soothe again, nuzzling you softly while he brushes back your hair some more. Chiding himself for asking, he send-murmurs, ** Try to forget I ever asked..the past isn't as important as what's happening now, or what'll happen soon. We just have to get you back home.. <> ** Determination sets his jaw firmly in place, and he resolves /not/ to let you down. He's never felt this close to any other elf, and perhaps it results in him being overprotective. But he'll do all he can to get you home safely. Rillwhisper pulls her head back a little, once more looking into the hunter's face. Her gaze lingers on the lines and planes of his features, before settling into the depths of his amber regard. And she sends softly, surprisedly, ** ...... You're helping, Gyrr... ** Lonehowl looks back at you and he smiles. For a moment, he wears something akin to a cub-like grin, giving reason to suspect he's turns younger than you are. ** Of course I'm helping, Twyr. <> I'd to anything to help you! ** He dips his head again quickly, to nuzzle, before finally beginning to separate himself - reluctantly - from you. ** Let me do what I need, and find my pack. Then we'll all be back for you, before you know it. ** Her eyes are already very warm, and they don't leave Lonehowl even as he pulls himself out of their twined embrace. But Rill lifts a hand up to his cheek, and sends, ** We'll hang on. ** And her hand moves down to her unclad belly, indicating who else is meant by that 'we'. That warm gaze of hers lingers on him, and it's perhaps because of that that he remains in her arms, rather than obeying her wish to leave her, for the time being. She carries his presence with her down into sleep... a good honest sleep this time, and a deep one. Neither of them really know how much later it is -- for time seems hard to gauge in the eternally twi-lit valley -- when they both awaken. But Rillwhisper keeps her anxious, drowsy gaze the hunter even as he rises, reaching for his clothing and his weapons. He leaves her the flint knife, without even being asked, which brings a surprised smile to her face at the accord that lies between them. And at last, he reluctantly leaves her, their eyes staying on one another for as long as possible even as he makes his way out of the copse by the pool.... [To be continued....]