Log Date: 12/16, 12/17/99 Log Cast: Calmwind, Wayfound, Summit Log Intro: The Willowholt has been destroyed in a thunderstorm and flood -- and a small number of bedraggled, now homeless Willowholt elves have been rescued by the Gliders of Blue Mountain. Trollkiller and most of the other adults who have been given refuge by the Gliders have been busy commencing searching for their missing tribesmates... and their missing chief. But this has left the cubs, Midnight and Wayfound and Summit, to their own devices within the Mountain, along with those who volunteer to keep watch over them. Wayfound, the chieftess's daughter, has elected to keep company with her tribesmate Calmwind... especially now that they have discovered a fascinating, bizarre object known simply as the Egg. Wayfound could easily spend hours studying this object on her own... but Calmwind seems to have dropped into a state of reverie in his own study of it, and Wayfound is not about to leave him. And thus, she has waited for hours at his side... ---------- Chamber of the Egg Somehow this room seems level while the rest of Blue Mountain is at a disturbing angle. Somehow the damage that has wracked the very foundation seems faltered before it hit this room. But it's only an illusion created by the tilted form of the large stone Egg floating in the center, twisting just a bit off its axis. Obviously the pillars here, majestic once perhaps, have crumbled and split. Obviously the walls here, once smooth, are riddled with curls just like on the Egg, as though this room was once part of the Egg, as though the Egg is inside itself. And you with it. The dizzying effect here makes you uncertain, but there seems to be only two ways that lead out into the more tangible halls of the Mountain. One leads 'out' to the western hall, the other 'northeast' to Tenspan's hall and the dining room. Contents: Calmwind Egg Obvious exits: Tenspan's Hall Western Hall Calmwind Calmwind is a young adult now, with dark green eyes and long auburn hair tied back in a thong. He wears a dark tunic with a wide belt, and long breeches laced halfway down on the sides. He's very tall for a Wolfrider, but is usually so quiet that he fades into the background. Recent events, however, have lent a fierce obsessive intensity to him, and his attention is either wide-ranging and restless or narrow and focused. He is constantly seeking something to do with his hands. Calmwind eventually stirs from his contemplation and looks down at his small companion inquisitively. How many hours has it been? Wayfound has not been able to keep track, for time is difficult to grasp within this place that goes untouched by the passage of the Daystar... and seemingly untouched by time. Any other child would likely not have had the patience to wait at Calmwind's side for him to rouse, but then, _this_ is Wayfound. She is still there, parked cross-legged upon the stone floor, peering intently up at the great stone object floating before her and scrutinizing not only each shape that meets her eyes, but how it seems to relate to its neighbors. Every so often she's peered sidelong at her companion, just to assure herself of his continued presence, but for the time being she doesn't appear to have noticed his return to the here and now. Calmwind rises, stretches, looks at the shaper again. Then he looks up, at the ceiling-- he does that so much in here-- and down at Wayfound again. He sends out the gentlest of greetings to the cub, and accompanies it with a mental stretch, as of one who has awakened after a very long, heavy slumber. The touch to her mind immediately ensnares the girl's attention, and her gaze snaps swiftly upward to the face of her companion. "Hello, Calmwind," she murmurs, pitching her voice to a whisper as if a little unsure of how her words might carry in this chamber. Calmwind keeps to sending, himself. **We have been in here a long time... do you know if your fur-father has returned from his expedition? ** He glances regretfully at the Egg. ** I don't understand the kind of knowledge Jasmael says can be found in this, I think. There is a song to it, certainly -- ** and the patterning of the shapes translates directly to rhythms of speech, of wind and thunder ** but it is not something I can put words to. I think I dreamt while staring at it, though. ** Tentatively Wayfound slips into sending herself, since this is only Calmwind here to hear her and the relaxation she shows around no one else makes her sending easier. ** I have felt no sendings, ** she admits uncomfortably. ** And no one has come searching for us. ** Then she pauses, canting her head to the side. ** You dreamt? Most intriguing -- but you did not appear to sleep. ** Calmwind raises one shoulder, drops it. ** I don't know how else to explain it. ** He shares with her the random images that the shapes twisted themselves in his mind, elves flying through corridors made dizzying by lack of perspective, wonderful and exquisite shapes twisted out of stone and dancing with their maker's exultation, and other images. ** I stopped thinking, ** he admits. ** And listened. But it was silent... ** The child absorbs each image, her brows winging down over her intent eyes. Some of these concepts she understands -- she's seen Zalen glide often enough and has seen enough of this place thus far that she can begin to extrapolate what flying through it must be like. But other things within Calmwind's sending give even her formidable intellect pause, and for one of the few times in her young life, she finds herself needing to struggle to formulate a theory as to what she is learning. At last she hazards, ** These things... you have seen symbiols of them, there? ** Wayfound gestures up at the Egg, striving to understand. ** I have been studying the shapes on the outer layer, but I did not... stop thinking, as you describe. ** Not that _that_ is unusual -- when does this child ever stop thinking? When she is asleep, perhaps, and even then there might be some debate. Calmwind crouches again, staring up at the stone. ** I... don't know. ** And he honestly doesn't. ** I must have? I could not point out a symbol and say this produced that, but... where else could they have come from? ** He looks to Wayfound. ** I can't even remember the symbols I saw. What did you see?" ** This is... most unusual, ** Wayfound murmur-sends, shifting position, for her little rump is cold and numb from sitting on the stone for so long. Uncertain whether to answer the older elf's question first or ask one of her own, she peers uncertainly at him for a few moments before settling for the former option. ** There are a great many symbols on the outermost layer, ** she reports. ** I believe I possess too little knowledge to properly understand many of them, but I have guessed that many are meant to show Glider elves engaged in various activities within the Mountain. I am, I afraid, not properly acquainted with many Glider elves, however, so much of what is shaped there makes only a very braod kind of sense. ** The reply given, the child then gives rein to the little fear nagging at her. ** It is quite unusual for you to... cease thinking, ** she goes on awkwardly. ** Have you... experienced... anything else odd? ** And for a moment, she nibbles at her lower lip, looking abruptly _very_ young. ** Are you... all right? ** Calmwind looks at the younger elf, worried himself. ** I feel like I've just woken up, I think. ** He considers himself. ** Although the dreams, the images, are still whirling in my head. I do not, however, want to sacrifice my wolf-friend to serve their Lord, or whatever that Chosen was hinting at earlier. ** He shakes himself thoroughly. ** Maybe some exercise would be good. ** ** Such a thing _would_ go against reason, ** Wayfound replies, her little face twisting up into a grimace of distate as she peers at the Egg, as if suspicious that the thing might indeed somehow have a negative impact upon an elf's ability to think. But her expression clears at that latter suggestion. ** We could walk, ** she suggests, ** or practice wrestling if such is desirable. Hunting, of course, is not an option within this place of stone. ** Calmwind rises to his feet so quickly he almost loses his balance. "Let's explore more," he says. "The Chosen said the humans were in the chief's sleeping place, so I don't think we'll find them, but there might be other works like the fountain or the egg." He gives Wayfound a curious sideways look. "I don't understand their attitude towards the tall ones." On legs relieved to be straightening, for her young muscles have grown a bit stiff from hours of sitting still, Wayfound leaps up to join her companion, and then grimaces again. Sliding back into speech, she again grimaces. "_I_ do not understand Rainfire's attitude," she grumbles. "If there are friendly humans, all sorts of new things might be learned from them!" And then, her active little mind leaps to another thought. "Perhaps the humans never attacked them and so they have never had any reason to consider them dangerous. Also, they are as tall as the humans and thus the fright induced by greater height is lost. I observed that the Gliders do not use the name Tall Ones, or at least they have not thus far." Calmwind grants dubiously, "Also, I suppose the ability to fly might help in not being nervous. But... they're violent, and unpredictable..." He considers what Wayfound has said. "I don't think there can be any harm in observing them, though, especially when they're in an environment of elves. I mean, nobody thinks observing the Gliders will be dangerous, right? And they're just as strange, even if they do have the same number of fingers." He looks down at his fingers. "Flight," agrees the child, "does aid exceedingly in avoiding capture." And then Wayfound grimaces again. "In this, I must agree. The strangeness of the Gliders, that is. Thus far I have learned nothing that explains to me why these elves continue to allow Winnowill to be their chief, unless it is by virtue of her powerful magic. Where would you like to walk, Calmwind?" And as she peers towards the door, she adds thoughtfully, "I have often wondered why humans possess more fingers than we do and how the extra finger affects the function of the hand as well as counting in daily speech. Do you suppose that if humans ran Blue Mountain, they would have a Chosen Ten?" Calmwind moves to the northeast thoughtfully, peering in that direction. "I never thought of that." And he thinks of it for a few moments as he walks, studying his own hands, flexing the fingers here and there. Calmwind disappears towards the northeast. Calmwind has left. You choose one of the many confusing openings, and move through the winding corridors until you reach... Tenspan's Hall This room is surprisingly sculpted to an interior room, no bas relief trees or birds adorn the majority of this room, and its large hollowness even as the glowlight dims into rock rafters above is imposing. In the middle of the oval-shaped room is a huge, long table with many well-crafted stone chairs where sitting comfortably is a simple goal. Some of the chairs look newer, almost hastily sculpted to resemble the others, but the chair at the head of the table is, like the room, a glorious work of art. Three tunnels snake at odd angles away from this room. One is large and designed to handle a great deal of flow in and out of the ajoining hall, another, smaller, likely leads to the kitchen where food is prepared. Contents: Calmwind Obvious exits: Chamber of Egg Kitchen Northeastern Hall "I can think of a few differences," offers Wayfound, her tone brightening as the conversation continues. She strides along at Calmwind's side, matching her steps to his even as she sends her attention roving in several directions. "For example, if a human has extra fingers, perhaps he or she would need to make a flute with extra holes. Which, in turn, would mean that such a flute would make extra notes." Calmwind glances up at the dining room they've entered, his gazing roving over the chair at the head of the table and then the smaller tunnel. "I was thinking about drumming," he admitted. "If different rhythms could be established. And at first I thought the extra finger would be useful in creating a tempo, but then I thought that it wouldn't actually add complexity, simply change the patterning." He seems struck by the idea of extra notes, though. "Do you really think they could create extra notes with their fingers? That would create a whole realm of music we could not access." He doesn't seem to want to believe that. As she always does, Wayfound endeavors to reason this through. "I have observed," she muses, "that different lengths of hollow reed create different sounds when the wind blows across their tops. Moreover, longer reeds create lower notes. It seems reasonable to conclude that if a human were to make a flute, due to the larger size of his or her hands... as well as the greater reach of their arms... that human would be able to play a flute which would make much deeper notes than a flute we created would be able to do. Still, though, I do expect we would be able to _hear_ those notes." She and Calmwind are walking along together, apparently deep in conversation. Calmwind is deeply engrossed in this idea. "But do you think we'd be able to create them ourselves someday? I mean, an appropriately practiced singer might be able to learn to control their voice to that degree, although flutes and other instruments have a different musical quality than an elfin voice." He frowns some more. "Do you think a sequence of different instruments could contain the same range of sounds you think a human instrument could produce?" As she and her older companion wander through the immensity of space that appears to be this hall, Wayfound frowns in deep concentration. The youngster drifts to a halt, gazing absently at a shaped pattern along a column without truly _seeing_ it, for her mind is currently otherwise occupied. "It is my understanding," she says at last, "that humans have much deeper voices than we do. Perhaps it is a result of size, but I am not yet certain. I have observed that Midnight, Summit, and I have higher voices than the grown ones in our tribe do. However, there does not appear to be a notable difference between our tribe's grown ones and the voices of Gliders. It may be a result of humans simply being... humans. I will require further observation on the matter." Her mouth tightens, and she peevishly appends, "Assuming I am permitted to achieve it." Calmwind looks down at Wayfound, his expression contemplative. Then he shakes his head. "Soon you'll be old enough to make your own decisions on the matter, I think." He shakes his head. "It may not be the same humans then, but..." And he looks at one of the columns, taps his knuckles against it thoughtfully. "Do they only have stoneshapers here, do you think?" His attention seems to be evenly split between Wayfound and the thoughts whirling inside him. Summit arrives through the large tunnel leading out into the huge hall. Summit has arrived. Summit wanders in from the Northeastern Hall, his tiny, right hand trailing along the wall as he performs a careful inspection of it. Summit pauses as he hears the voices of his tribemates, swiveling his head to confirm their identities. His hand remains on the wall, unmoving as he tries to contemplate Wayfounds words - he always seems to have to think about them for some time in order to make sense of it all. He remains silent, content to watch and listen a bit, until maybe they bring up something he can more fully understand. "I have seen no wood as of yet, which would lead one to conclude that the Gliders have little use for a treeshaper," Wayfound murmurs. Then she lowers her gaze to her feet, scuffing a toe along the floor and grimacing intently. "I... confess to a measure of... trepidation, regarding my growing older, Calmwind..." Summit tilts his little head, stepping forward now with a very curious expression on his face - reminiscent to his uncle Simmel. "What's 'triptation'?" comes his sudden inquiry as he emerges from the wall. Calmwind blinks down at Wayfound. ** Why? ** he sends. His curiousity is never as intense as Wayfound's own, but it's certainly there, along with a touch of worry that is inexplicably linked to Rillwhisper. Then when Summit speaks he raises his head to offer a smile to the small cub. The diversion of Calmwind's attention leads Wayfound's over to take in Summit, and for just a fraction of an instant, the she-cub might be seen to bear an almost awkward expression. Then that glimmer of hesitance swiftly vanishes behind an impassive mask as she gruffly replies, "'Trepidation' means 'doubt' and perhaps also 'fright' if I understand the word correctly." She does not answer Calmwind's question, though it is highly unlikely that she missed it. Summit blinks abit as he approaches the duo, seeming more confused then before. He glances off, trying to place this new word back into Wayfound's statement and come up with a higher meaning. He just sighs and shrugs, then grins up at Calmwind. "Hihi," comes the typical greeting learned from his Mother. "What you two doing?" Calmwind says gravely to Summit, "We're exploring. Are you wandering around alone, Summit?" The youthful, almond-shaped eyes currently staring at Calmwind widen slightly. Then they regard you both, as innocent as can be, "Maybe a little, but I wasn't gonna go to far." He smiles then, as if that would make his words all the more sincere. "But now I'm not alone, so...nope." He beams. Summit is arguably the only person in the Holt Wayfound has as of yet not been able to classify -- either as someone who ignores her, or someone who does not. She stares over at him uncertainly, bemused by the one Willowholter younger than she is, and her voice stays gruffly hesitant as she offers, "If you wish to join us in our explorations, your presence is welcome." Her mouth stays open a moment, as though she might say more, but then she claps it shut. Calmwind lets a small smile crook his mouth. "I wasn't going to scold you if you were, Summit. But please, come with us if you want." He gives the boy a conspiratorial look. "We're hoping to catch a glimpse of the humans. Or perhaps Gliders doing whatever Gliders do when they're not being Chosen or Dread Lords." Summit reacts to Wayfounds words with glee, happy to now have companionship. His lips part into an excited smile and he moves closer to Wayfound, clutching her hand as any -average- cubling would do when walking along with older elves. Whatever Wayfound thinks of him seem irrelevant, as he seems to think Wayfound is almost as cool as Egg - except she perhaps talks too much at times. The cub then glances up, getting even more excited at Calmwind's words, that is, until he mentions humans. His little brows furrow into one and he asks in a whisper, "There are humans here?" Wayfound does, in fact, stare in obvious surprise at Summit as her hand is seized, but she doesn't jerk away from him or make any cry that reflects her shock. She merely blinks several times, then yields herself to the inevitable and settles her little hand into what appears to her to be the most comfortable grip of the smaller one that's wrapped around it. Nor does she say anything, apparently deciding that Calmwind should lead the conversation now that someone else has arrived on the scene. Calmwind seems bemused by this, but points out the huge chair as the three elves walk along. "The Chosen say that the Lord of this place keeps them as pets. And that there are peaceful humans below the mountain." He gives Summit a sharp look. "Not that you should take this as permission to go looking for them. Humans that are peaceful to Gliders may very well not be peaceful to small elfcubs." Summit makes a face up at Calmwind, "I heard that humans are stinky anyway," is all he comments. He falls silent, content to just walk along and be included, letting the other two resume their previous conversation if they wish, or for Calmwind to continue his tour. "I am similarly informed," murmurs Wayfound, "but lack proper information to decide for certain." She casts a wary sidelong glance at the boy beside her, wondering if he is likely to tell her to shut up as Midnight does or make fun of her observations. Only when Summit seems uninclined to do either does she grudgingly append, "It would seem logical to conclude, however, that the Gliders od not find their scent offensive..." Calmwind points out, "Well, they don't seem to be running around in a great abundance here, anyhow. It's possible when the Gliders visit them, they just stay upwind." He shrugs and keeps walking, tapping on a few more pillars. "I wonder what sort of musical instruments one can craft from stone." Summit regards Wayfound, ever curious, as she speaks. His thoughts seem to stray as he looks over the slightly older elf, a glimpse of innocent wisdom evident behind his eyes. After a moment, he moves a bit closer to Wayfound, asking her in a very easily heard whisper ( but obviously discrete to Summit), "Why do you always talk so quiet? It's hard to hear you..." He smiles slightly, encouragingly. Then, his attention, as is typical of a young cub, is swept away by yet another thought as Calmwind speaks. He remains silent, looking to Wayfound,k as if -she- might have the answer. Before Wayfound can come up with an answer, however, something else again distracts the younger cub. "Mother wants me!" he pipes, and with a wave to both the remaining elves, he scampers back off to join the rest of the tribe camped elsewhere within this Mountain. Wayfound watches him go, looking extremely bemused, and still having failed to answer the guileless inquiry. At last she mumbles, "How... very odd." Calmwind is almost as bemused by the rapidfire visit of the youngest cubling, but he only looks after him for a moment before dropping his gaze to Wayfound as he guides the tour towards the kitchens. After a moment, he says tentatively, "You were saying something before he found us?" He looks over his shoulder where Summit vanished, and then sighs. "I hope he makes it back to his mother without getting distracted again." "I... know he can send," Wayfound surmises, "and if so, Joy and Ahdran should be able to locate him with relative ease." Still, she sounds awkward, and she casts a strange, nervous glance down at the hand Summit had held before she crosses her arms along her chest, uncertain as to what else to do with her hands. "Your memory is accurate," she mutters then. "I was... speaking of growing up." Calmwind nods. "You were." He closes his mouth for a moment, and then says, "And it worries you?" "Yes," the little girl replies with uncharacteristic brevity. "I..." Calmwind is quietly patient, although he gives the elfling an encouraging look. He'd like to offer insight, clearly, but he's still uncertain where the problem is. And quite abruptly, Wayfound bursts out raggedly, "I am... most dismayed!" She stops, her face falling, her eyes turning liquid with the force of whatever emotion has gripped her. "In recent moons I have observed a notable decline in my agility. I... I trip over my feet. I feel quite clumsy. I do not feel _ill_, however, and, and I must therefore conclude that it is part of my increasing height and size, but..." Calmwind crouches down swiftly, looks up at Wayfound. Then he just sits down, crossing his legs before him. "I used to be very comfortable with my body. Then my hands got way too big for me to use them properly, and my voice started doing strange things. I banged my head /so/ many times." His voice is grave, without even the faintest hint of humor. Obvious relief floods the girl's expression. "You _are_ quite tall," she agrees in a rush, "but you have always seemed so to me for as long as I can remember. Did you grow swiftly? Did it hurt?" Calmwind considers, tilting his head to one side. A loose shock of hair falls across his face and he pushes it aside in exasperation. "There were several summers between being cub-sized and being now-sized, although there was one in particular that was unpleasant." Hr grimaces, but it's best to be honest. "I was worried about how tall I was becoming, and my head ached from banging into den roofs and branches. And I kept having weird aches as I was growing." He looks at Wayfound's face, worried that he's caused her anxiety to blossom again. "But as the newness faded, I didn't think about it as much. And I learned my new height." He shrugs. The Wolfbringer's daughter settles down on the floor next to her tribesmate, apparently unconcerned at least for the nonce about the possibility of any passing Gliders looking askance upon them. Wayfound draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms about them, raptly absorbing Calmwind's every word and considering meanings and implications. She finally nods, then slowly hangs her head. It seems to take a very long time before she timidly admits, "I... am scared, Calmwind. I... knew... long ago that I am... different from most of the tribe, but..." Then she grimaces at the sound of her own voice, her little mouth tightening up into that stoic line that seems to be its habitual set these days. And she sends tinily, trying to avoid having to listen to the rasp lent her little voice by the lump in her throat yet perhaps unaware of the emotions making that lump coloring her thoughts, ** Now I seem to be getting... more different. ** Calmwind rests his chin on his knees. ** More different from yourself, or more different from the rest of the tribe? You still seem to be you, to me. ** He hesitates and then admits, ** I haven't noticed the awkwardness you spoke of, yet. ** And he raises his head, drops a light hand on the elfgirl's mop of hair. ** I do? I... I mean, you haven't? ** Wayfound affixes a liquid, hopeful gaze upon her friend, and then she swallows hard and goes on, ** There is another example of what I mean... I... I seem to be rather more inclined... to... displays of emotion, as of late... I... ** Calmwind actually smiles at this, although it's clear he's not laughing at her from his light mental touch. ** The past few seasons have been very stressful. In addition, well... I imagine you know yourself very well. I understand completely being made nervous and stressed by something you know well changing on you.** He looks up around the room. ** Here you are, and your outside environment has changed around you, and your insides are changing, too... ** ** And Mother is gone, ** comes Wayfound's mournful send, her little body hunching closer in on itself. Calmwind drops his hand to Wayfound's back. ** But not forever. ** He seems certain of that, although he's stressed by her absence. ** And your fathers are here. ** He hesitates. ** And I am here. ** and then he shakes his head and says, a bit anxiously, "Would you like to go find them?" She's trembling, this little elf-cub, but she peeks up again at the touch. ** You are here, ** she agrees, but both her eyes and her sending are plaintive. ** Calmwind, do you... think I am... bad for being... glad that it is the others... and... Mother being missing... and not you? I... feel as though you are... the only one who understands me and does not look at me strangely when I speak or make fun of me. I do not think I could bear it if the flood had taken you away! ** These last admissions burst out of Wayfound's mind, and then she flushes crimson, visibly embarrassed by her outburst as tears start to well up in her eyes. The young drummer blinks at Wayfound for a moment and then his neck turns pink and he bites his lip. Then as tears brighten Wayfound's eyes, he hugs her. ** Not bad, ** he sends, and there's no value judgement at all because his thoughts are too tinged with surprise and confusion. And then he simply opens his mind and sends a rush of affection and warmth and loyalty to the chieftess's daughter. She's clearly pretty important to him, a friend who encourages his own mind to work and helps him in defining his art. And then awkwardly, he tries to wrap words around the encouragement. ** It's okay... ** That is all the excuse the youngster needs to throw her slender arms around the bigger elf, bury her face against his chest, and cry. A sending escapes her, but it is jangled, full of a great number of sentiments and pieces of memory and images. All of them do have one thing in common, however: Wayfound's utter conviction that out of three eights of tribesmates, including her own mother, this one is the only one who does not seem to consider her some sort of freak. It takes her much effort before she can mumble, "F-forgive me... I... c-c-can't stop crying. I can't stop..." Calmwind holds the cub as she sobs, his long fingers gentle on her back. He doesn't say 'shhh' or 'hush' or any of those sounds, and while his warm sending contains a hint of doubt that anybody who loves her could actually consider the cub a freak (and certainly her mother loves her), he eventually says softly, "Maybe when all the tears have come out?" "I... I..." Wayfound swallows hard and then switches back to sending, finding it easier for all that her little mind reverberates with the force of her inner turmoil. Still, despite the storm of emotion that's swamped her, she somehow manages to retain at least a semblance of the piercing clarity that characterizes her mind. ** I cannot refute Mother and Fur-father and Fire-father's affections, ** she concedes even as she clings to Calmwind, her form shaking all over. ** But why does... no one but you want to talk with me or listen to me? Why is Midnight so _mean_ to me? ** A fresh surge of tears dampens the drummer's chest as she wails in conclusion, ** Why am I so _different_?! ** Calmwind hugs Wayfound again, and he can't answer why Midnight so mean because he honestly doesn't understand. He's barely out of cubhood himself, after all. But he does send, ** You're /special/, Wayfound. ** And he adds, not entirely sure of himself, "Maybe when you're... taller..." and he closes his eyes for a moment, "people won't be so put off by your behavior. I mean..." and he sends an image of Summit's innocent wanderings and lack of focus, "that's cubs... and Midnight... " and he points out randomly, "I didn't have other cubs around when I grew up." That brings the girl's head up, and she fixes a teary but still nevertheless keenly attentive, anxious gaze upon her friend's face. ** You must have been terribly lonely, ** comes a tiny sending, then, somewhere between the deductions she appears to accomplish with blinding speed -- and the guess of someone who operates out of nothing more unusual than a deep, profound understanding. Calmwind is surprised again. ** I don't think I knew what being lonely was until my mother left. I had so much to listen to and learn. ** he shrugs. "Now I know. But you and I are friends and even if we don't have a holt anymore we're both still okay." Wayfound sniffles mightily, at odds with the uncannily mature expression in her little features, and then tentatively sends, ** I... do not recall that you have ever... told me that I am... special before... ** A smile twists up one corner of his mouth, wry and full of self-directed humor. ** You are special, ** he sends simply, and then pulls himself and the cub to their feet, looking at her quizzically. ** ** is Wayfound's immediate, bemused reply, as she lets herself be helped up. Then, quite abruptly and impulsively, she hugs her tall friend and pipes out, ** You are making me feel better! I... know that it is not logical, my mind knows what you have advised, but... ** And she pulls back a bit, looking up up up to try to meet Calmwind's green gaze. Biting her own little lip and tapping her chest, ** I am starting to feel better here now...! ** Calmwind lowers his own gaze to meet hers. ** I hope I can continue to help you in that way. ** He is deadly serious, very intense, and then it passes. And he tosses that errant lock of hair out his his gaze. "We should go see what news your furfather has now, perhaps?" Emphatically the child bobs her pale tousled head. ** I believe, ** she surmises even as she scrubs the back of a little hand across her ambergreen eyes, ** that we will all feel better if we get good news. Let us go in search of Fur-father! ** Wayfound turns towards the way from which they'd come... and perhaps without even realizing that she does in fact have something in common with the other two cubs in the tribe, she impulsively and trustingly seizes Calmwind's hand as they set off upon this very quest. [End log.]