Log Date: 12/13/99 Log Cast: Winnowill's Spirit, Trollkiller, Silversong, Calmwind, Streamwind, Wayfound, Starsong, Sela, Rainfire, Ahdran, Journey, Jasmael, Aroree, Areelia, Savith Log Intro: The Willowholt has been swept away in a severe thunderstorm and flood, a mighty deluge of water so great that even the venerable old trees once shaped by Rillwhisper's brother Sweetleaf have been uprooted and swept away. Ordered by the chieftess to flee and take only what they can carry, much of the Willowholt tribe has retreated to the south and east of the doomed Holt... but much of the tribe is also still missing, having fled in different directions in the chaos of the storm... or in the cases of Rillwhisper and No-fur, having been last seen trying to rescue the trapped Talek and Softlock. Hours later, an exhausted group of Willowholt elves have managed to gather together in a relatively stable little island of unflooded land, trying to rally their strength to prepare for finding their missing tribesmates... Log Note: Locksends to and from Trollkiller courtesy of Trollkiller's log. ---------- Winnowill's Spirit has arrived. Winnowill's Spirit flickers briefly in and out of existance before gaining cohesion and solidity. Winnowill's Spirit appears not far from Silversong. Trollkiller sits on his ankles beside an unconscious Woodhawk and his sleeping wolf-friend. He stares ahead and a little bit down, at nothing, and does not respond to those things going on around him - but his hand grips Woodhawk's shoulder firmly, shaking, but strong. Not far from a certain healer who's half-exhausted from her constant searching for her lost Tribesmates. Though the itch at the edges of her perception draws her awareness back to the present. Slowly she looks around, not quite seeing anything. Yet. Calmwind is sleeping on the ground, curled up close to his wolf-friend. The mud slops and squishes, as Streamwind comes into the line of view. Mudded down and looking like he's been on the ride of his life, the young elf finally seem to have some sort of seriousness around him. ** Ayooah! <> ** Clear blue eyes skim the elf's present, can he help in any way? Silversong gives a vague nod to something. Once, not too very long ago, Wayfound had been an extremely talktative little cubling. But even before the two seasons of foul weather struck the Willowholt, the daughter of the Wolfbringer turned silent and stoic, willing to communicate only when strongly encouraged by her chieftess-mother or either of her fathers. Now, the young she-elf has turned even more grim of countenance, her eyes alarmingly old for such a youthful countenance, and the set of her jaw disturbingly like her mother in her darkest moods. Wayfound has occupied herself with a methodical, thorough cataloging of the few items the bedraggled elves here at the crossroads have brought with them, for survey of their supplies, as far as she is concerned, is vital to their immediate survival. It is she who first notices Streamwind coming, and she snaps up her stoic regard in his direction. ** Greetings, Streamwind, ** she sends, clear and strong as always, but with that same sense of tight control haunting her eyes. Still, though, she is painstakingly polite. ** I am relieved to see that you are well. Are your friends alive also? ** Starsong arrives from the east. Starsong has arrived. Streamwind nods to the send, his features calm which quickly reveals that indeed his family and friends must be alright. "Aye, they are safe." Sapphire blue eyes sparkles, as they narrow taking in the scene. "There are some missing.. " Saying this more to himself, he works through the mud towards the young maiden youth. "Are you alright?" he inquiers, flicking a look towards Woodhawk and Trollkiller. Winnowill's Spirit shimmers and slowly fades from sight. Winnowill's Spirit has left. Brought slowly back to the moment, Silversong looks down towards the others who have fled the destruction of Willowholt. ** We'll be getting help soon. ** Wayfound sets down the bow she'd been inspecting for water damage, stepping across the legs of one of the exhausted wolves to meet the healer from the Gathered Tribe. "I will presume you mean us collectively, rather than myself in particular," comes the girl's gruff reply. "We are... surviving, and I expect that is the best that can be said." The youngster turns her gaze round to Silversong, though, as that healer suddenly rouses from whatever reverie had seized her. "Excuse me, Silversong. What did you say?" Starsong walks in from the east, using her taal stick as an aid, the ground is soggy and she is glad she spent the night on the large hill to the east. She stops occationally to wipe the mud off her moccasins. Her wolf moonshine rolling in the mud some distance behind her. Running the back of his hand over his muddy cheek, Streamwind nods to Wayfound and glances over to Silversong. However they managed to summon help, its good. "Do you need my help?" he then asks, having not spent all his strength on a whole tribe. Meeting Starsong's gaze is a disturbing sight: a bedraggled collection of exhausted, damp, and muddy elves and wolves, several of whom appear to be either unconscious with exhaustion, or staring vaguely at nothing... or at the vista of muddy water to the north and northwest, dotted here and there by bizarre, twisted growths of plant life. One of the wolves lifts its head and whimpers a weak version of a warning, as the stranger and her wolf-friend draw near. Silversong slowly, and carefully, starts to climb down from the branch she had been on. "Help's coming." Starsong suddenly notices the small group, her mind preoccupied with other things. She waves a small hello and grins self consiously. She takes a look around, not noticing the worst of it yet, and wonders if the rainstorm was worse here, than off to the east. By the look on the faces in the group, she could guess so. Not being able to think of anything else to say except "bad storm we had.." Starsong turns around and looks behind her at the mention of help. Help? What kind of help do they need? She looks visably miffed. Wayfound is caught between wishing to respond to Silversong... and needing to react to the alert of what's left of the Willowholt wolfpack to the newcomer. She settles for the moment on the latter, turning and calling out, "Greetings, stranger. If you need to travel Hubward, I would advise that you range far towards Sun-Goes-Down first." Despite the small size of the youngster who speaks, the voice is grimly adult. "This area has been destroyed by a flood." Moonshine trots in happily behind Starsong, her tongue lolling out. She suddenly stiffens as she notices the "others" Streamwind steps towards Silversong, his young face serious and concerned. "Is there anyone you havent managed to get to?" He does notice how slow the maiden is, and instinctivly goes to help. Starsong wrinkles her nose at moonshine, wondering what she rolled in this time. She continues walking towards the small group. Still somewhat confused "Flood?" She looks to the north, then the south... "But that will put me a good days journey behind..." She stops as she notices the weariness in the elves eyes. Moonshine relaxes and resumes her silly mood, happily trotting forward to meet the "others" She begins to tentivly sniff Silversong. The small sea of water to the north and northwest isn't exactly easy to miss. However, it doesn't make it as far south as this patch of ground, here at the crossroads, and the ground southward, while damp, has not been subsumed by the muddy lake either. "Flood," repeats Wayfound succintly, staring with an impassive gaze at Starsong for a long moment. Then, still painstakingly polite, she appends, "I am sorry about the hindrance to your journey, but none of us are capable of moving the water, unfortunately." Sela has arrived. Starsong The first thing you notice about this young elf is her hair. White as the snow in the whitecold season, and almost as bright. Her frosty mane radiates out from her face, falling a little past her shoulders. Below her short unruly bangs is a pair of vibrant, piercing green eyes. If you look a little closer you would be able to see flecks of gold imbeded in the emerald green. Her face is simple, and usually emotionless. She is wearing a plain grey long sleeve shirt, with matching breeches. No symbols or fancy stitch work adorn her clothing. On her feet she wears worn brown doe skin boots that reach mid-calf. She is rarely seen without her dark grey hooded cloak, a few symbols have been stitched into the material, what they are, only she would know. As you gaze at her, you get the feeling that she is a quiet, reserved elf. Simple, and mild, content on keeping her own company. And yet you wonder, maybe it is her intention. She can be seen mostly at night, with her head to the sky. On her back she carries a bow and a quiver full of sharp arrows. Slung to her hip is her fathers obsidian dagger. She is a wanderer, a keeper, and a maker. Her ever faithful wolf friend moonshine, is always at her side.<> Carrying: Moonshine Starsong's Bow Starsong's Dagger Amulet Taal Stick Sela glides in, soaked and utterly exhausted. She curls up where she lands without a word. Silversong slowly settles down to the ground, looking at the wolf that's come near her. ** I haven't been able to find or send to Rillwhisper at all. ** Starsong ohs softly at Wayfound. Again she looks north, then south, sighing softly. She then looks from one elf, to the next. "Did you live around here?" she asks, knowing the question but not remembering a holt nearby. Streamwind nods quickly to a send, shifting his steps to head towards Trollkiller and Woodhawk. He does pick up Silversong's open send and frowns, the Chieftess is the one he didnt see, and he again glances to Wayfound. Kneeling down in the mud, he reaches out to touch Trollkiller on the shoulder. "Trollkiller?" Softly he tries to get a response from the elf, while he checks on Woodhawk with a quick look. Moonshine begins sniffing each elf in turn, she then rushes off into the water, splashing around and swimming in circles. Rhythm, Calmwind's wolf-friend, raises her head and flashes her teeth at the stranger wolf when it approaches her elf-friend. Then she drops her head to the ground again wearily. Calmwind, though, begins to wake up. Wayfound's attention flickers first to Sela, as she marks the return of the gliding one; then, it comes back to Starsong, to whom she gravely replies, gesturing with one tiny hand towards the northwest. "Our Holt was there." That a Holt no longer lies in that direction goes without saying, and accordingly, Wayfound doesn't say it. Her young jaw quivers momentarily at the stranger wolf's attentions, but she merely stands still and permits the sniffing while adding, "We do not, I am afraid, have much in the way of food or a fire to offer you, stranger. We have not yet been able to organize a hunt." For the briefest of instants, the cub's gaze flashes sidelong to Silversong at the mention of Rillwhisper... and for that same instant, Wayfound's face tightens. But her stoic expression does not alter. Trollkiller doesn't respond to the touch, continuing to stare at nothing, vaguely in the direction of the flood. Starsong scratches her head, still not knowing what to say or do. She hasn't had much contact with other elves, especially ones in need before. She opens her mouth to respond to wayfound, but again, finding nothing to say, she closes it. Her eyes cast downward, then towards the direction of the flood waters. Silently, she sets down her bag, one being fairly prepared for anything, digs out the remainder of last nights dinner of ravvit. She holds it out to the small group, saying nothing, except with her eyes. Moonshine becoming bored with her bath, races off to the east again to find whatever she rolled in earlier. Streamwind frowns lightly, but reaches out again tentivly to Trollkiller. To anyone catching his eyes, one can see a slight spark of fear, before he forces it away by closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. The young healer's hands come up to rest on Trollkiller's shoulders, a very faint golden glow forming over his hands. Streamwind locksends ** Trollkiller? <> ** to Trollkiller. Calmwind sits up groggily, one arm draped over his wolf, and tries to focus on the newcomers to the little island of refugees. Trollkiller locksends to Streamwind, Trollkiller is curled up in a very tight little ball inside, with one miniscule thread heading outwards and away from you, to - you're not sure where. Starsong tilts her head, at the small group, she sets the food down on fairly dry stump and takes a few steps back. "I know its not much" she says softly "But your welcome to it" She looks in her bag for wood, but finding none, she offers her Taal stick "It may burn well..." she adds Newcomers: Streamwind, crouching by Trollkiller. And the pale-haired elf holding out the offering of meat to young Wayfound... and then the taal stick. The cub in question blinks at Starsong's silent offering (a momentary glimmer in her eyes suggesting that despite her stoic demeanor, there's a frightened young elf hiding beneath it), and then mutters huskily, "Thank you, you are most kind. If Fire-father would wake up we could maybe get a fire going, for without him, most of the wood here is very hard to light." Starsong nods in responce as she takes a few steps backwards. She looks around for moonshine, not finding her, her gaze returns back to the group. Streamwind gives an invoulentary shudder, clenching his eyes before cracking them open. He sits back on his heels and searchers the immeadiate area. "Do we have furs?" He turns to the young maiden, pushing down his own private fear, he gives an encouraging nod to her. Streamwind locksends ** Little Chieftess-daughter, you have more courage then a bear. I'll do what I can to help your Fire-father and Fur-father. But I need furs to warm them. <> ** Starsong hearing streamwind begins looking through her back. She looks up and gestures to the east. I have a tent... back that way a bit.. I'll go get it" She says, and with that she hurrys off to the east. Starsong begins to walk towards the plains, along the trail to the east. Starsong has left. Trollkiller senses in a locksend, Streamwind's send is very tentive, as it seems he fears touching mind with an elf again. You may note, there's more 'wolf' to him when he sends now, then usual. ** Trollkiller.. I need you to talk to me, please. ** Starsong arrives from the east. Starsong has arrived. What few furs have been hauled out of the doomed Holt are more or less already wrapped around various prone bodies. As Streamwind turns to her, Wayfound turns to look back up at him, that suspicious little glimmer to her eyes still lingering, but the stern set of her youthful face doesn't change. "I... think," she admits reluctantly, "that what furs we were able to get are already all being used. Unless Silversong has some." She glances at the silver-haired healer. You locksend to Streamwind, Wayfound's mind flickers in response to your own, a more palpable sign of the fear she's kept in stern check than she'd like to admit. This child is as of yet not quite skilled enough to fully conceal her emotions from her sendings... which may well be why she's choosing to speak aloud. Starsong races back into the small clearing, her tent slung over one shoulder. She stops to a halt, still keeping her distance, catching her breath a bit. She also offers that out to whomever wants it, gladly giving it up, and all she has to help. Calmwind rises to his feet after a few moments of catching his bearings, and then bites his lip, looking at Trollkiller and then Wayfound. Streamwind nods and focuses on getting Trollkiller out of the worse shock first, before he goes to find furs and whatnot to aid the ones with no furs. "Try to put everyone together in one spot, work off of eachothers body heat." He suggests this, reaching to touch Trollkiller again. You sense in a locksend, Streamwind's send is now just a warm emotion, encouraging and supporting. Trollkiller locksends to Streamwind, Trollkiller isn't thinking. It's not, "he's being thoughtless." He's simply unable to think. He's stopped. Trollkiller senses: Streamwind's hands move over your shoulders, a warmth emitting from them and definite use of magic. He continues to just leave himself near your mind, easy accessible, but never pushing. Maybe fear? tinging his presence in the send. "Everything will be alright" he murmurs, half-way into healing transe and taking care of the most painful cuts. Many things to keep track of, now, at once. Wayfound flicks her attention from Streamwind to Starsong to Silversong to Calmwind and round again, her ambergreen gaze resting liquidly upon the seemingly catatonic Trollkiller momentarily as she does so. "Thank you," she can be heard to mutter again to Starsong. Calmwind receives a husky "Greetings," and at last, she speaks up to the pair of healers, "I will be happy to try to move elves closer together but I will require assistance, due to my small size. Silversong... what help is coming? Have you received a sending?" Businesslike, she remains. Gruff. Steady as stone. A brief sound of something comes from Silversong as Wayfound's question addresses her, interrupting the tired healer's impromtu dozing off. Eyes flicker open again, realizing that she had been talking on something previously. "Mother is sending the Gliders. Brightmark and Simmel with them." Streamwind moves his hands over Trollkiller slowly, healing a few of the cuts and bruises might help on the shock maybe. With a set of his jaw, he leans Trollkiller up against him and moves his fingers to between Trollkiller's eyes, attempting to put him to sleep. Trollkiller slumps down, across Woodhawk, suddenly asleep. Between Calmwind and Starsong, several of the dozing elves are huddled protectively closer together, leaving little Wayfound at something of a loss as to what to do with herself. She takes a step toward the supplies she'd been tallying before, before Silversong's answer distracts her. Unmistakable reaction crosses the she-cub's eyes, and when she manages to speak again, her voice cracks on the first syllable. "If they... are bringing hawks to move us, that will be... welcome. Do you know, Silversong, if they will help us look for... the others?" Hawks? Streamwind sits up and prepares to carry the two elves over towards the other group of elves, when Wayfound's words reach his ears. He arches his brows and decides this is probably not his business at all, what they plan on doing with the tribe. Instead, he turns back to carefully nudge at Trollkiller. "Trollkiller? Wake up.. " A glances is given to Silversong, if this young healer does something wrong he trusts her to correct him. Hopefully. Silversong gives a faint nod. "I think they will," she murmurs in reply, looking towards where Trollkiller has fallen asleep on Streamwind. ** Let him sleep for now. He has not let himself relax since... He needs to get the strength back that the water sapped away. ** Heavily, grimly, Wayfound bobs her disheveled pale head to Silversong, and then gives Trollkiller's slumped form another long, liquid stare. Then, without uttering a word, the child strides back to the supplies and resumes her self-appointed task of sorting and tallying and inspection for damage. Streamwind nods to the send and gently gathers Trollkiller up, carries him to where the others are huddled together, then turns to get Woodhawk and do the same. Placing them close, he tries to make sure they can keep the heat together, eyes still revealing a worry for Trollkiller's state. Silversong smiles approvingly of Streamwind's actions, then lets her eyes close again. Rainfire has arrived. Rainfire drags soaked and tired out of the trees. Rainfire sinks to the ground and drops his tightly stuffed pack to the dirt. ** Can't find Suntail.. ** Streamwind remains with the two mates of the Chieftess, and even after the approving look from Silversong and her saying Trollkiller should sleep, he reaches out for the furred elf again. Trollkiller senses: Streamwind's hands close around your face and he gently uses his magic to wake you, with a soft private send. ** Trollkiller? <> ** Rainfire blinks tiredly and crawls over to Trollkiller, ** What happened? Is he okay? ** A wretched sight greets Rainfire's eyes: a bedraggled, exhausted collection of elves and wolves. Only three elves are in immediate view -- the two adult healers Streamwind and Silversong, and the pale-haired, ambergreen-eyed youngster busily sorting supplies. This last elf snaps her attention around to Rainfire as he arrives, her little body straightening, her eyebrows knitting together in consternation. "Pardon me, but... who are you?" she can be heard to demand in a surprisngly gruff voice for such a small creature. Trollkiller's head jerks upward, and a wordless noise - something like "hirrurrruh?" falls out of his mouth. He blinks several times, looking around wildly, flailing for Woodhawk and Rillwhisper and seeing Wayfound and... Rainfire? Rainfire looks around and then up at the oddly familiar-looking elfchild who he has never seen before. ** I am Rainfire..of Willowholt apparently long before you were born. Who are you, cub? ** Trollkiller doesn't see Rillwhisper. ** Rill. Gone. Where? Water? Flooding? Who? ** Trollkiller's flailing, furry hand can find Woodhawk readily enough. There is no Rillwhisper, but there is a Wayfound, and the child swivels her head rapidly in Trollkiller's direction as he rouses. Relief wells across her eyes, but her stoic little expression does not otherwise alter as she practically leaps to his side. "Fur-father," she breathes. Streamwind would answer Rainfire, but suddenly gets busy dodging flailing arms. He tries to stay out of Trollkiller's view, but at the same time tries to keep him calm. "Loking for her.. They are looking.. " He quickly reassures, trying to not get in the way of Wayfound's leap to her Fur-father. Trollkiller pulls Rainfire and Wayfound to him, and holds them tightly, fur crushing against their leathers. Another pair of green eyes open at the sound of Rainfire's voice, flicking either way before falling on the newcoming elf. ** Rainfire, you're here, ** Silversong sends, relieved that another Tribesmate has made his way here, even if he's one that wasn't lost in the flood. Rainfire gingerly strokes Trollkiller's headfur. ** Rill's gone? ** He hugs the furry elf tightly. Small enough and more than agile enough to stay out of the healer's way, Wayfound nevertheless does not try to elude Trollkiller's desperate embrace. She curls her arms around his furry frame as best she can, while piping to Rainfire in a somewhat muffled voice, "My apologies, Rainfire, I did not immediately recognize you, and Mother and Fire-father and Fur-father did not have time to apprise me of your return to the Holt..." That's all she manages to utter, however, as she's squeezed against Trollkiller's chest. Streamwind scoots away from the clump of elves, standing to his feet again. He watches and nods to himself, at least they have eachother and all now. He moves towards the other healer, now not quite sure what to do. Trollkiller shudders at Rainfire's send and shakes his head back and forth, hard. No No No No No No NO. He sniffs, blinking through tears. ** No. I don't think so. I'd know. I think. No. ** Ahdran has arrived. Rainfire pets and attempts to soothe Trollkiller. ** She's not responding to sends? We'll try to find her..she's got to still be here somewhere. ** A mud covered elf staggers into view. Those with a keen sense of smell will recognize the scent of Ahdran. Streamwind rubs his face to his arms, trying to rid of some of the mud on his face. As another elf staggers into view, he casts a look to the elves present, before heading towards him to help, if he needs any help. "Silversong says," puts in Wayfound from the grasp of Trollkiller's muscular arm, "that Blue Mountain is sending hawks to find us, with Jasmael and Simmel." Her voice is still a little husky, but steady now. And in the meantime, as Ahdran arrives, he might espy the collection of wet, exhausted elves huddled in this refuge of reasonably dry ground south of the floodwaters. Joy and Summit are curled up among the sleeping ones, while Streamwind, Wayfound, Trollkiller, Rainfire, and Silversong are all in immediate view, along with several miserable wolves. Ahdran smiles weakly to those awake. "Well, I'm glad everyone found a place to gather." One hand is pressed tightly against his left side. Must of bruised or cracked a few ribs. There are a few cuts and scrathes all over his body, but other than that he seems to be all right. "Including me." He adds. Rainfire manages a wan smile through mud and stragglingly wet hair as he fingers a lock of Wayfound's honeyed hair. ** No wonder you look familiar.. ** "Greetings, Ahdran," comes the gruff little greeting from Wayfound. Now that Trollkiller appears to be aware of those around him again, the youngster's clinging to him with everything she's got. She pauses, then, peering up bemusedly at Rainfire and that attention to her own bedraggled mop. "I am Rillwhisper's daughter," she states bemusedly. "Again, my apologies. I should have stated such, if Mother did not have an opportunity to apprise you of me." Rainfire looks around as though he might be able to discern the chieftess through the sodden greenery. ** We'll find her. ** Ahdran limps over to where Joy and Summit lay and seats himself. He exhales sharply in a wince. "Wretched falling trees." He mutters under his breath. Thats the only trace of anger he allows himself for now. Closing his eyes briefly he calms. Silversong motions over to Ahdran from where she sits up against a tree. ** Come over here, if you could? ** she suggests, beckoning. All the wolves in the clearing suddenly prick their ears and look into the trees. Suntail has arrived. Suntail lopes into the clearing and then pounces upon Rainfire, tangled up elves and all, in a frenzy of face-licking and tail wagging. Rainfire laughs, "Suntail!" Ahdran grits his teeth as he pushes himself off the ground and heads over to Silversong, "Yes?" his voice questions before attempting a climb. Rainfire hugs and scrubs the wolf's wet ruff with his fingers, accepting a good face-washing in the process. Ack. Wayfound has her breath squeezed out of her again, between Trollkiller and the wolf's enthusiastic arrival. "I am," she gasps, "relieved to see that your wolf, for I presume that is your wolf, Rainfire, is well. I am, by the way, Wayfound..." Silversong smiles faintly to the approaching elf, patting the ground beside her. ** Sit, I'll attend to the ache in your side that you've got... ** Suntail suddenly backs off, looking around at the members of the strange wolfpack here. Rainfire holds up a hand and wolfsends pointedly. His wolf-friend backs off to a distance and sits there on her haunches watching intently. "I can do it.. " Streamwind offers, having caught the other elf's obvious pain. He steps towards Silversong and Ahdran. Ahdran allows his own lips to curve into a faint smile, ** Thank you. ** His mind voice softly replies. Trollkiller holds Wayfound close, as Woodhawk, in his sleep, rolls over to bury his face into her back, following her scent. He sends out again, trying to find. Rainfire sighs at his wolf and looks back to the cub, "Good to meet you, Wayfound. You seem to be doing a good job of keeping everyone together here. Your mother would be proud." Sandwiched between Trollkiller and Woodhawk though she might be, still Wayfound wriggles around to get into a position to be able to look at Rainfire more or less comfortably. Her eyes turn liquid for a moment or two, before she mutters roughly, "Thank you." Silversong smiles, but shakes her head towards Streamwind, her hands lifted gently to Ahdran's side. ** I'm not that tired that I can't do a little thing, ** she suggests, a light fiery glow forming about her fingers as she begins to gently explore over the injured elf's side. Rainfire clasps Trollkiller's hand now and smiles at the child before closing his eyes, shoving his own exhaustion aside, and adding his powerful sends to Trollkiller's, searching far and wide for their missing chieftess. Streamwind nods and comes over anyway, crouching down to at least watch. His eyes narrow slightly though, watching Trollkiller and the others reaching to find the Chieftess. Ahdran stands perfectly still letting Silversong do her work with no resistance. If Rillwhisper is out there, she isn't answering sendings. Still, though, for minds intimately familiar with that of the Wolfbringer, there is no sense of true void to suggest that she is completely... gone. Rainfire stops sending for now, wrung out, having found more than hoped for but less than desired. "We'll find her.." It is a statement with no other options. Trollkiller falls backwards across Woodhawk, and nods. ** We will. ** ** You should rest.. ** Streamwind suggests, gently. His instincts on making sure others are alright giving him a little boost to 'interfere' with the others search for Rillwhisper. ** I'll do what I can to help find your Chieftess.. ** Rainfire curls up against Trollkiller and Wayfound, comforted by the familiar, and dozes for a while, unable to keep his eye open any longer after days on end of searching and salvage without sleep. Journey arrives from the small camp at SouthMarsh just north of the crossroads. Journey has arrived. Silversong nods faintly to Ahdran, crimson licking over her fingers as she explores over the aching area. ** Yes, you've gotten yourself quite a bruising... ** Streamwind is standing by Silversong and Ahdran, though his eyes are fixed on the elves gathered to keep warm together. Especially Trollkiller, Wayfound, Woodhawk and Rainfire (which are in a cluster?) has his attention. The blonde-haired healer is all mudded down, of course, after the happenings, though his clear blue eyes are easily recognizeable through the dirt and also some of his light hair can be seen. Journey slips through the trees, a bundle of furs in her hands, her wolfbond Heartfound by her side. There's a look of mild concern on her face as she sends. ** Streamwind? I brought the furs you asked for... ** She pauses to look around and take in the sight of the gathering here. Streamwind's attention is quickly drawn to Journey when she sends, and he steps away from Silversong and Ahdran to meet her. He sends privatly, as he reaches for the furs. Journey nods her response to Streamwind's silent send. Carefully, very carefully, Wayfound sits up between Trollkiller and Woodhawk, keeping a hand in contact with each of them. Her little shoulders square themselves, while her little face holds its stoic expression. Wayfound, seeing Journey arrive, pipes up gruffly to her, "Greetings, Journey." Calmwind shakes himself out of his half-awake doze and rises to his feet again as furs arrive. Softly, he says, "Did somebody say help was coming?" Wayfound's ambergreen gaze shifts round to Calmwind, to whom she replies, "Silversong says that Blue Mountain is sending hawks, with Jasmael and Simmel, to find us." The pained glimmer in Ahdran's eyes begins to fade as the healing magic starts its work. He gasps softly and steadies himself against a tree. "The gliders?" He manges to finally say. Streamwind nods and takes the furs over towards where an unconsious Woodhawk is. He hands it to his mate and the elves there. "Here.. Try to keep warm." He moves away as quickly as he as he's dropped off the furs, to stand close to Journey. Journey glances over to Wayfound and offers a small, somewhat bleak smile. "Shade, Wayfound." she replies. She steps farther into the clearing. Trollkiller blinks, and looks at Wayfound. ** Chosen? To find us? ** He thinks for a minute. He's not fond of the idea. But his tribe is scattered and there are many missing. ** Maybe they could help us look for... everyone. ** "It would make sense that they know now," muses the chieftess's daughter, her brow crinkled in deep thought. "Since Tsoran took Dusk and Midnight away on his hawk, any of them could have told the Gliders what happened." As she speaks, she can be seen to stroke both Trollkiller and Woodhawk with her little hands, cublike motions at odds with her adult enunciations. Silversong nods, lowering her hands away from Ahdran's side, the red flicker about her fingers fading away. ** You're welcome. ** Ahdran looks at Trollkiller sharing the same feelings, "I wonder what their real intent could be?" The deepsenser muses almost to himself. He doesn't trust the folk of the blue mountain either. Calmwind looks over at the small pile of supplies, some small amount of pained bitterness showing on his face. He runs his fingers over the only wooden tool remaining to him and then raises his gaze to the floodwaters. Streamwind studies Journey for a moment, then nods. "Thanks for bringing the furs.. " He looks over to the elves, who definitely need it. Trollkiller ums. And looks at his bag. He'd forgotten he'd pocketed as much as he could. ** Um. I have some jerky. ** He takes some out, and tries to feed it to Wayfound. Ahdran drops one hand to his side and bends at the stomach in a bow to Silversong, "Many thanks." He is so nervous and concerned that his habits he picked up from the Sun Village are forcing themselves through. Well at least that shows her that his ribs are fine. He trots back over to Joy and Summit to resume his place there. Journey's brows draw together in deepened concern as she regards Streamwind. She looks around again, particularly over to Wayfound and Trollkiller and exhales a slow breath before glancing back to the Gathered Healer. Silversong smiles in return to Ahdran, nodding to him, before glancing over to Trollkiller and Rainfire again. Almost as if she hadn't quite registered Trollkiller's intentions, Wayfound blinks owlishly at the befurred elf; then, comprehension dawns. Oh yes. Food. "Thank you, Fur-father," she mumbles, accepting the little bit of jerky and beginning to gnaw slowly and measuringly at it, with all the deliberation of one who expects food to be scarce for a while. Her eyes, though, turn cublike again, as a fundamental need, hunger, gets at least a little bit of satisfaction. Rainfire snores softly, a large and incredibly fully stuffed pack lying near him. He had just returned from long travels and, if anyone gets venturesome enough to open the pack, there are still supplies from his journey tucked into it: dried ravvit and dried fish, a parcel of shelled nuts, and some recently unearthed tubers as well as dry furs, his spare clothes and boots, and the folded up pieces of a shelter of some sort. Streamwind rubs his arm, flickering a look to Silversong, hoping she's not wearing herself out totally when he can help. Ahdran sighs softly and leans back to rest a bit himself. Calmwind moves around randomly, his hands twitching every so often. He displays far more restlessness than usual, and casual observation shows why: he has none of his belongings-- none of his drums-- with him. and thus nothing to do with his hands. It seems to frustrate him over and beyond the depression brought on by the stark, chilly waters that swallowed his home. Trollkiller ums. And thinks. ** Okay. We should go through what all we have. Are there any packs people haven't checked yet? ** Nobody had checked his, so he assumes not. Wayfound swallows jerky to clear her mouth for speaking, her attention following Calmwind, as she hears Trollkiller's question. "I had begun an inventory of our supplies, Fur-father," she reports, "and we seem to have furs enough for everyone, although they are damp. We have weapons but at least two of the bows have suffered water damage. Our food supplies are very meager. We will need to hunt." "We'll hunt.. " Streamwind offers, glancing at Journey quickly. At this point, Streamwind would do anything on instincts of helping the others, not really concerned about himself. Trollkiller leans over to see what Rainfire might have, and finds that he'd returned with quite a bit. ** Rainfire seems to have more food... ** He rummeges through the pack some more, and nuzzles thanks to the sleeping... he has to think about the right word. ** And a... ten-t! ** Journey nods in response to Streamwind's offer. "Aye, we can hunt." she agrees. "And we've got extra shelter, too, if you need." Rainfire snorts faintly and cracks an eye open at the nuzzle...hmm? Trollkiller sends, ** We're going through your bag, seeing what you salvaged. Seeing how much food we've got. ** Rainfire blinks muzzily and sits up. Calmwind looks up briefly. **I'm not sure what there will be to hunt right now. Although,** his face twists, ** There will certainly be drowned animals.** Neatly, Wayfound finishes off the jerky Trollkiller has given her, then announces to the gathering at large, "If it will be useful, I will endeavor to forage." She pauses, attention going back to Calmwind, as his surmise stops her. In a tinier voice she murmurs, "That seems a very logical surmise." Rainfire ohs, "Um..shot three ravvits and caught some fish and dried them before I started back overland..then we ended up moving so quickly because of the storm that not much got eaten. There should still be a lot there." Rainfire's report of his food also catches Wayfound somewhat askance. All at once, the elfling looks at a loss all over again, as if in danger of growing extremely nervous without something to do. Rainfire scrubs a hand over his face, "Guess it's a good thing I pack to feed a whole hunting party when I go rambling about." Streamwind brushes his hair back, then places his hand on Journey's shoulder. "Lets see what we can find of paths and such out of here.. " Calmwind crouches down to stare at his hands. ** We need dry wood, certainly. A fire might also help to guide lost elves to us. It will be hard to find, but not impossible, I'm sure, especially if we look for smaller pieces to start the drying process. ** Calmwind glances up at Wayfound, and then down again quickly. Trollkiller looks at Wayfound, and sends, ** Why don't you help me set up Rainfire's tent? The wettest can dry off in there, perhaps. ** He looks over at Rainfire. ** If that's okay. ** Journey nods quietly and turns with Streamwind. "Aye." she says softly. Even she needs something constructive to do now. Rainfire nods. "How long has Woodhawk been out?" Silversong looks off towards where the 'holt used to be, and her tree. Not a favorable journey, though, so the option is put to the side for the moment. Calmwind, or her fur-father? Wayfound's small mouth quivers momentarily, before settling back into a stoic line. Carefully, after giving Woodhawk one more pat to his tumbled dark auburn hair, she gets back to her feet. "Perhaps it would be more efficient if I assisted Calmwind, Fur-father," she murmurs, ambergreen eyes upon that named elf. Streamwind begins to walk towards the plains, along the trail to the east. Streamwind has left. Journey begins to walk towards the plains, along the trail to the east. Journey has left. Calmwind stands up again, the lack of his drums somehow stealing his grace and making him tall and gawky under Wayfound's gaze. Unused to making suggestions, he swallows. ** I think that the smaller twigs will dry out more quickly. Have you observed this, Wayfound? Perhaps in the... caught in the nooks of some trees, deadwood not on the ground...?** Rainfire climbs slowly to his feet and goes to help Trollkiller set up the hide shelter. Rainfire looks around, "Is there someplace here we can put this that will be safe if we have to stay here for much longer?" Rainfire fits wooden frame pieces together with the ease of long practice, laying out the longer assembled shafts on the ground. Trollkiller looks around. ** I... dunno. This looks as high up as anywhere. On the ground, at least. ** Rainfire nods, "As soaked as everything is, I'm not sure I want to try falling out of a tree again." Trollkiller tests the dirt. It's weedy, and fairly solid, out here, on the way up towards the higher plains. Rainfire shakes out the hide covering and crawls inside it, dragging frame pieces in behind him. "Jasmael," comes a murmur from the Healer against her tree. ** They're near, and looking for us. ** Rainfire pops his head out, "Gliders?" Wayfound bobs her tousled head at Calmwind, a single time. "Ordinarily I would agree with you," she tells him as she steps his way and leaves the tent construction to Rainfire and Trollkiller, "although I am of the mind that anything Hubward of here would be soaked enough to be rendered essentially worthless. However, if we were to venture Away-from-Hub what deadwood we may find may match your theory." A bit more talkative than has grown normal for her, now. Perhaps it's Calmwind's attention coaxing it out of her? She appends, glancing back at Trollkiller, "Fur-father, I will endeavor to stay within shouting and sending range--" Silversong, however, causes her to cut herself off. Silversong nods again, over towards Rainfire, her eyes up to the sky. "Brightmark is with them. Should I call to her?" she asks, lowering her gaze towards Rainfire and Fuzzy. Trollkiller sends, ** Yes. But tell them to look for our missing, first. We're at least dry - well, kinda of. Rillwhisper, No-fur, Talek, Crystal, Acorn, Seedling, Sorrow, more... ** Rainfire looks to Trollkiller, "We're still hunting for tribesmates..I don't want to go yet when they may still find us here or be found." "Dawn and Zalen," puts in Wayfound. "And Fhen and Duskshadow." Trollkiller sends, ** They're all just missing. ** Rainfire ducks back in and hide commences to bucking and rustling again. ** I'm not going anywhere yet. ** Calmwind raises his eyes to the sky, one hand coming up to rub behind his ear. Crusts of dried mud drift down from where he rubs. Then he tilts his head to listen to the conversation. ** We should still find wood, then? Do they have dry wood with them? ** Silversong pauses a moment, then shakes her head. ** No, but many blankets and food as well. ** Wayfound turns to Calmwind and somberly suggests, "Let us seek Away-from-Hub for deadwood, then." After a few minutes of rustling and muttering, Rainfire crawls back out of the now fully assembled tent, "This thing is just big enough for two elves and a wolf to sleep in comfortably. A hand and a couple more elves may fit." Rainfire dropped Weathered Hide Tent. Calmwind inclines his head at Wayfound and after another look at the refugees and a worried look at the sky, he turns to trudge Away-from-Hub with Wayfound. Trollkiller shakes his head. ** No! Um. Wayfound. You should stay here with us for now. ** The cubling pauses before she gets too far away, turning her attention back to her fur-father, torn. It takes much to put this child at a loss for words, but this qualifies. "I..." Her little mouth actually opens and then closes, before she adds awkwardly, "May I search within range of sight, then, Fur-father?" Trollkiller nods. ** Yes. As long as you stay within sight. It's... too... ** He sighs. He's confused and disoriented and isn't as sure of rules anymore. ** Woodhawk will want you here when he wakes up. ** Calmwind turns to look over his shoulder at Trollkiller. "If the sky talks, we will return..." His voice is again soft, and he sends the same after a heartbeat or two. "Or if you call..." Rainfire has left. Rainfire has arrived. Rainfire has left. Rainfire has arrived. Rainfire says "It's all set up and dry in there." Rainfire pulls dry furs from his pack and pushes them into the tent. Wayfound bobs her head solemnly to Trollkiller, and then turns to pad off with Calmwind, the two of them beginning a thorough search over the nearest stretches of ground for fallen branches and twigs knocked off the trees by the storm. Rainfire looks to Trollkiller, "Let's move Woodhawk inside." Trollkiller nods to Rainfire, before thinking to look back. ** Are they searching? ** Rainfire nods. ** Searching for a place to land with the supplies they've brought, first... the Glider with them may be bringing them down individually, if they can't find a place for a clear landing, ** Silversong explains. Rainfire helps Trollkiller carry the still unconscious Woodhawk to the tent and tuck him in warmly under the furs. Trollkiller slumps against the tent after carrying Woodhawk inside, and rubs his eyes. Rainfire says "Anyone else who needs to get out of wet clothes and get warm can pile in there with him." Rainfire strokes Trollkiller's headfur gently, "Why don't you get some sleep too." Trollkiller locksends ** Not until Wayfound is done looking for wood. Need to keep her occupied. ** to Rainfire. Rainfire nods to a private send and leans down, kissing the top of Trollkiller's fuzzy head comfortingly. Rainfire locksends ** She can help me build a fire and warm up food when she gets back. ** to Trollkiller. Trollkiller sighs deeply and holds Rainfire's hand against his chest. ** Good. ** Rainfire scritches Trollkiller's chestfur soothingly and sinks down to sit beside him whilst the wood scavenging goes on. Jasmael has arrived. Aroree has arrived. Cloud Dancer has arrived. Savith has arrived. Trollkiller blinks and stands, somewhat less than gracefully - ** Brightmark! ** Aroree floats in, holding Jasmael aloft. Areelia has left. Areelia has arrived. Cloud Dancer flies up. Cloud Dancer has left. Rainfire stands slowly, just behind Trollkiller. Jasmael smiles down at those below as Aroree carries her downwards from a circling hawk above. ** Heyla, Fuzzy. ** Aroree determines that there is, indeed, ground here and sets Jasmael down lightly. "Greetings" she huffs, catching her breath for a moment. Calmwind has a small bundle of likely looking twigs when the arrival of the gliders catches his eye. He straightens, catches Wayfound's attention. His reddish hair hangs limply over one eye and he shivers once. Trollkiller looks at the new glider. He's not sure he's seen this one before. He looks around, tiredness in his eyes, and decides that he's as good a candidate as any. ** Greetings. My eyes see with - well, relief, I guess... Silversong said you were coming to ... help? ** Silversong smiles towards her daughter, and the glider that's brought her. ** Aroree. I'm glad to see that it's you. Of all the Gliders. ** Aroree looks at the gathered elves "We are here at your service. Any help we can provide we do gladly... there are more stranded needing rescue? I have three hawks, some rope and suplies." Trollkiller sends, ** We hope so. Many of us are still missing, including our chieftan Rillwhisper Wolfbringer, who was last seen trying to rescue Talek... and No-fur, last seen trying to rescue Sorrow... and Crystal, Acorn, Seedling, and many more... ** Aroree smiles slightly at Silversong "I believe that is why I was sent in first. I am happy to come to your aid, reguardless who sends me." Wayfound sees Calmwind react a beat before the shadows of the hawks make themselves known -- and then the newcomers are Here, and the adults are talking, and all at once the little elfling freezes where she stands, a pair of branches held in her arms. Rainfire holds a hand out to the elfchild. ** Wayfound. ** Aroree looks to Trollkiller as the obivious leader of this group "There are two Chosen above, Areelia and Savith. The three of us should be able to travel safely above the flood waters." Aroree glances about "Is this area safe?" Jasmael nods, unshouldering her pack and setting it onto the ground. Trollkiller thinks so. ** The flood water is level for the moment, and we're as high up as anywhere is right now. ** Calmwind stops beside Wayfound, not looking down at her, watching the Gliders. Calmwind locksends ** I haven't paid attention to the Gliders before, Wayfound. Can you advise me how to behave? ** Trollkiller calls over to Wayfound. ** C'mere, cub, it's okay. ** Aroree frowns slightly, then nods "It will have to do then. We will want to evacuate to higher ground soon as possible, but for now let's find your missing." Trollkiller nods. ** That was our thought as well. Thank you. ** Wayfound's slender little body is rigid with her reaction to the strangers, but she espies Brightmark among them readily enough, and there's her Fur-father and Silversong seeming to know who at least one of those tall elves are. She sees Rainfire beckon her way, too, and hears her Fur-father calling, but something holds her where she is as she casts a glance up at the tall young elf with whom she'd been gathering the deadwood. "Come on, Calmwind," she murmurs. Silversong locksends, to Trollkiller, Rainfire: ** Aroree, of any of the Gliders, can be trusted. She lived for a time with Cutter, and helped him during his tribe's troubles with the Mountain. ** Aroree says "I'm afraid I do not know my way around your holt. I don't supose there is anyone who could act as a guide? Perferably one who can glide" Aroree smiles slightly "Or at least does not weigh too much" Calmwind inclines his head again and follows Wayfound over to the other elves, his green gaze thoughtful and patient. The gathering of the wood and perhaps the uncertainty and tension of his companions has stilled his restless hands for now. You locksend to Calmwind, Wayfound doesn't answer, not immediately, but her little mind flares out in response to your own, flavored with a hint of barely restrained fright and exhaustion. This child is not skilled enough to keep her emotions out of her sending, not yet, which may well be why she hasn't chosen to send to anyone lately. ** I... have never seen Gliders besides Tsoran, ** she answers in a sending much tinier and much more vulnerable than any word she's uttered. Trollkiller locksends to Silversong, Trollkiller send-nods to you, quietly. Aroree glances upward briefly "How are you? Do you need food, Simmel packed quite a bit. We've some blankets and clothing as well." Trollkiller sends, ** Sela glides, and has been here, but I don't know where she is now... searching, I think. Dawn and Zalen... we don't know where they are. It's just us, I think. ** Jasmael starts pulling things out of the large pack she brought with her, pulling out tightly-rolled bundles of cloth. You locksend to Calmwind, Wayfound adds then, ** And... um... Ayerth at the Gathered Tribe. But he doesn't live in Blue Mountain... ** For once, it seems, the lass is at a loss for information. You sense in a locksend, Calmwind is comforting, mildly curious, worried. ** Let's find out together, then? It sounds like they're not staying long this time. ** Trollkiller sends, ** Food, more than most, would be good. We had time to grab virtually nothing when the great hill of water came through. ** Wayfound steps nearer to the others, her big eyes sweeping an uncannily adult gaze across the tall, slender strangers. She carries the two thick branches, about all a child of her size can hold effectively, over to just before Rainfire's tent. "Greetings," is all she says, and that very soft and solemn. You locksend ** ** to Calmwind. Calmwind ducks his head, murmurs a quiet greeting, and begins arranging the wood. It's still damp, although he's been nestling a handful of twigs in his tunic to warm and dry them. as his hands move the pieces of wood around, he peers up at the Gliders through his hair now and again. Aroree looks about again "Jasmael... I'm going to have Talon land, over there. If the water starts rising again take as many as you can into the air." Trollkiller looks over to Jasmael. ** You fly a hawk now, then? ** Jasmael nods up at Aroree. ** Alright. ** Of course, when Trollkiller asks that, that's when her expression becomes rather nervous. Not as much as if it had been her father asking that, but still... ** Alorn taught me how to guide them, a long while back. ** Aroree smiles "She's had one lesson, but that makes her more likely to convince Talon to go into the air than say the child over there." Aroree's smile evaporates quickly, her visage not one that holds smiles well. at least not lately. "Let us hope we need not test her ability. Now, where should we search first?" Trollkiller ah-heh. Hopefully. ** Yes, let's hope not... come up with me, I'll show you. ** And he climbs rapidly up one of the tallest trees. Areelia flies up. Areelia has left. Aroree floats effortlessly upward, weaving between the branches until she is on a level with her guide. Rainfire stays somewhat silently in front of the tent, just watching and listening. Trollkiller climbs as high as he can, which gives him treetop view over the holt. Or where it once was. He shakes his head, and his eyes tear up at the vast wasteland of fallen, broken trees and newly-forming swamp. ** I... I'm not sure. There's... nothing left. Not a single landmark remaining. ** He peers for a bit, trying to guess at the layout of the ground beneath it all. ** I... _think_... ** - he points - ** that the itchgrass circle used to run along there ** - he sends the location as he sees it - ** in a loop towards sun-goes-down. Always the same distance from the Old Willow, which, which... ** Trollkiller stops, and wipes his eyes, biting on his lower lip - he's shaking a little. ** Which I think used to be ... that way, halfway between. ** He closes his eyes. ** I think. ** Calmwind sends, ** There was a treehorn caught in it. ** His send is raw with sudden pain and more bitterness, and abruptly closed down. A coughing sob escapes, before Trollkiller can stop it. Wayfound, silent, grim, and liquid-eyed, sets herself to helping Calmwind with the wood. From somewhere the child produces the small tools needed to try to make a fire sans magic, as long as her Fire-father is still unconscious. For a moment, though, she peeks at Calmwind. As she does, her little face might almost seem to quiver, a hint of disconsolation peeking out from behind the stoic mask she's wearing. Then, grimly, she keeps working, little hands busy with the stick and the tinder. Trollkiller sends, ** Thank you, Calmwind. I remember that now. ** He sends a send-picture to Aroree. ** If it wasn't washed further away, that might help. ** Aroree sets a hand lightly on Trollkiller's shoulder ** Calm yourself friend. A set of trees are not a family. A place lacks importance without the people who live in it.** Rainfire locksends ** <> ** to Trollkiller. Aroree nods ** It does help. ** she looks upward and sends openly ** Savith, Areelia, we should begin. Come down. ** Trollkiller looks sharply at Aroree, and sends, ** The spirits of our ancestors lived there. ** He closes his eyes. ** I'm sorry. You wouldn't know. ** Rainfire comes to the base of the tree and looks up. Aroree drifts away slightly so that she may descend to ground level free of the tree branches. ** Spirits continue, and trees can be regrown. This destruction is horrible, but not an end.** Areelia has arrived. Calmwind looks up sharply at Aroree and then drops his gaze as Trollkiller corrects the Glider. He dumps some peels of bark out of his tunic and arranges them for Wayfound's inspection and then sits back on his heels, watching the cub's hands intently as she attempts to make fire. As Aroree speaks more, he sets his jaw. Jasmael finishes unloading her pack, a regretful look to her eyes as she raises them to Trollkiller. Finally, she looks over towards where Wayfound is, deciding to move over there near to where the cub is. Calmwind locksends ** Grim but mild anger tinges Calmwind's send. ** We are learning, I suppose. ** ** Trollkiller climbs back down the tree, to the base, to help Wayfound with that fire. Aroree faces Areelia stiffly and very formally adresses her "There is much ground to cover. Several elves are missing out in -that-. I sugest we work separately to more efficently use our time, there is no telling when the water may rise again." "Thank you, Calmwind," whispers Wayfound, hoarsely. She doesn't look up. Nor does she break the pace of her determined swiveling of that stick between the leather thongs to which she's affixed it. As of yet there's no sign of anything remotely resembling fire or even smoke being birthed by her efforts, but she keeps at it doggedly. Areelia raises a brow faintly at Aroree, glancing around for what /that/ is. You locksend ** ... ** to Calmwind. Aroree gestures toward where the holt used to be ;) Rainfire sighs softly and leans against the tree. Areelia starts in that direction? Umm..yeah.. Jasmael locksends ** She's quite a determined one... should I offer to help, or just let her keep trying? ** to Trollkiller. Calmwind says softly, "My drums were all nice seasoned wood. I keep wishing I had them to burn." And he does not sob, does not sob at all, but his eyes are burning. Trollkiller locksends ** The warmth might do us some good. And she's about to pass out from exhaustion. I've... been letting her stay up so she'll at least sleep a bit more soundly later. ** to Jasmael. Aroree frowns slightly, you get the idea she doesn't like Areelia much. then she turns to Trollkiller once more "I sugest you and your people remain here, eat and save your strength. Send for us if the water begins rising again." Aroree says "We did not think to bring wood... perhaps some of the clothing will burn." Rainfire watches the fire-starting attempts for a while and then searches through his beltpouch. Jasmael gives a slightly-perceptible nod towards Trollkiller, before looking to Wayfound again. ** May I help? ** Rainfire makes an annoyed face after a fruitless bit of rummaging and goes over to his pack, rummaging some more.. ** ..know it's in here somewhere.. ** Aroree collects a rope, checks that it is properly looped and tosses it over her shoulder "I for my part will send if I need help... have you a healer?" Calmwind's soft admission makes Wayfound's rhythm falter, then; one of the thongs slips against the stick she's trying to swivel. And quite abruptly, the child growls out a blistering whisper of an oath that sounds entirely -wrong- coming out of a cub her size: "Two-Spear's Madness!" is gritted out shakily under her breath. Jasmael locksends ** Are you *sure* she's just a cub? ** to Trollkiller. Jasmael looks startled at the exclamation, peering for a moment up at Trollkiller. Trollkiller nods. ** Silversong. She's... ** He peers around. ** ...over there. ** Trollkiller locksends ** She's an odd one. But yes. Of Rillwhisper and Lonehowl. It's ... been some time. Do you know that story? ** to Jasmael. The healer in question, it seems, has drifted off into light sleep again, leaned up against one tree. Aroree says "Good. It would be too much to hope for us not to require a healer." Aroree nods and with no further ado heads into the former holt ;) (um, which direction was it?) Rainfire ahs! and comes up from the pack with small leather pouch. Trotting over and crouching next to Wayfound, he offers her the pouch, "There's not much left in there but it's very dry...maybe it will help." Jasmael locksends ** I'd heard of what Rillwhisper said, but I'd left for the Mountain with Dusk and the others before her cub was born. ** to Trollkiller. The chieftess's daughter looks rather startled by her own outburst, too. Her head shoots up, her eyes a little wild as she looks around in consternation from Calmwind to Rainfire to Jasmael and back again. And she starts to babble in uncertain tones, "I... forgive me, I... that seemed the appropriate thing to say, I-I-I have observed Mother swearing when she is angry... I..." The pouch is found to contain a small amount of brittle, dried moss when Wayfound calms enough to open it. Trollkiller pets Wayfound's head. ** It's alright, cub. Everyone's tired. ** Rainfire lays a gentle hand on the cub's shoulder, "I've heard your mother say much worse..you're doing fine." The response from Jasmael to that is a reassuring smile. ** It's alright. ** Though her inward thoughts are concerned. . o O (She's trying to grow up too fast...) Calmwind says, his voice like the moss, "It is very approriate, Wayfound." He raises an eyebrow at the cub. "You were awake when I came here, and awake when I woke up. Have you slept?" Touched by two different adult hands, Wayfound can be found to be trembling violently; her eyes tear swiftly over. All she can manage in response to Calmwind is a blurted, "I..." Aroree turns to walk northwestward to the bank of the Forbidden River. Aroree has left. Areelia turns to walk northwestward to the bank of the Forbidden River. Areelia has left. Jasmael slips back a bit, away from Wayfound, perhaps thinking that right now, giving room is the best thing. Rainfire strokes the shaking cub's back lightly, offering comfort but unsure of what else to do. She barely knows him. Trollkiller locksends ** Yes. She always has been. ** to Jasmael. Savith drifts down from above, his brow knit as he drifts to Jasmael's side. Trollkiller pads over to Wayfound, too. ** I think it's time for you to nap, now. You've done a marvellous job of collecting wood and getting things together, and now it's our turn. ** Calmwind takes the pouch of moss up himself, arranging it around the firetools before starting to twist himself. He glances up at Wayfound's father as he encourages the cub to rest, and nods himself. ** It's okay, ** he sends. You sense in a locksend, Calmwind adds, ** I'm sorry. ** She might converse like an elder many times her age, but when you get right down to it, Wayfound _is_ still only a child of eight and four turns of the seasons, her emotional maturity as of yet still far behind the uncanny maturity of her intellect. And right now, beneath her stoic exterior, Wayfound is an exhausted, demoralized child who wants her mother. "I.." Once more that's all she can manage, as she shoots a glance only now just beginning to overflow with tears she can't hold back any longer between Calmwind and Trollkiller. And then she turns and flings herself at Trollkiller's chest, starting to sob. Hot, scalding tears add new wetness to his chest fur, though the little one makes nary a sound. Savith looks to Jasmael before he hefts a few bags from his shoulder, looking around ** I've got some food and blankets to keep you warm while we search for the others. ** he tilts his head, looking from one unfamiliar face to the next ** Do we have any idea where others may be? ** Trollkiller wraps himself around his little cub, and holds her tightly in his warm fur as she cries, crying with her as well. ** Sleep, daughter, sleep... tomorrow, mayhap, things will be better... ** You locksend to Trollkiller, Wayfound touches your mind, plaintively, falteringly, ** I-I'm... so tired, Fur-father... ** Jasmael watches Wayfound for a moment, then raises her eyes to Savith. ** Other than around the 'holt... no. ** But motioning to Wayfound and Trollkiller, she locksends to Savith, ** Would you take them one of the blankets? I should countinue Wayfound's efforts to get a fire going. ** Trollkiller rocks back and forth with Wayfound, exchanging little sends of comfort as best he can. Calmwind turns his attention to the moss with an intense ferocity and much sooner than expected-- the dry moss a godsend-- there are sparks, and then a tiny tiny flame. ** See, ** he sends aimlessly, ** See, it's okay for now. ** And he feeds the shreds of bark to the tiny blaze carefully. Savith nods once to Jasmael before moving towards Trollkiller and his cub, his brow knit with concern as he lowers his arm, draped with a few warm furs towards them "Take these, they're dry and will keep you warm.." his voice is smooth and even. He kneels after a moment, digging into another pouch to retrieve strips of dried meat, offering those as well "They may not be the best tasting meat you've ever had, but it's food, and it'll keep you going." Rainfire watches Trollkiller and Wayfound with a vague feeling of helplessness. This is not going to get any easier anytime soon. Making himself useful, he moves around the fire to help block the wind from the tiny flame. Areelia has arrived. Savith looks over after distributing some of the food, and nods to Areelia as he rises, shouldering the bags again ** How goes the search? ** Areelia shakes her head, crouching down a bit once she has reached dry land, ** Nothing so far. ** Savith draws one of the dry furs out of the bag and moves over to wrap it around Areelia's shoulders before moving towards Calmwind and Rainfire, drawing the bags last couple of furs and rations "Here, these should help keep you warmer and your bellies full while we look for others.." Wayfound, cradled in Trollkiller's arms, grows eventually silent and still. Her little face retains its strain even as her exhausted young body finally succumbs to the demands of slumber, however. Even in sleep, the Wolfbringer's child is bowed down by the disaster that has destroyed her home. [End log.]