"An Ebbing of the Spirit"

Log Date:
	2/15/02

Log Cast:
	Coralfire, Vardeus, Flashfire, Quietharm

Log Intro:
	It has been a restless Vardeus indeed who has been recovering
from his injuries upon the island of the Raft Elves... and struggling to 
assimilate the existence of the elves in general into his view of the world.
Most of the tribe that has taken him and Maerro in remains wary of him,
but some small number of them have reached out to befriend him -- like
Raven, who is sharing her tent with him and his loyal cabin boy, and 
Quietharm, who is fascinated by them and their alien language. And Shay'la,
who has fascinated Vardeus in turn by being an elf close to his own kind's
size... and who, despite the barriers of race and language, has realized
that Vardeus is an exile from a faraway home. Like her.
	The news that Kephissa and Valnek are alive has only increased the 
Captain's restlessness, as well. Injured as he is, he cannot go across the 
water to the mainland to find his missing crewmates, which frustrates him to 
no end... and morever, his injured, exhausted state has only left him more 
vulnerable to the guilt and anxiety that have been plaguing him ever since his
people were lost at sea. Vulnerable enough that he cannot keep himself from
breaking down, even as he discovers that he and Maerro are _not_ the only
humans on the island of the Little People....
	
----------
Raft Beach - Shoreline - Raft Holt(#10028RJLS)
        Truly magnificent and unique in its beauty, Rafter's beach unfolds 
  before you. The sand is soft yellow, verging on golden, patterns of black 
  sand trickling through the monotone coloring. The soft rushes of the waves 
  playing upon the beach is accompanied by the light breeze which stream 
  through the palm trees further into the cove. There you have it, rising up 
  on either side is majestic cliffs with reefs and rocks underneath. The 
  cliffs rise further, forming a lush green ridge formed as a giant U, which 
  surrounds this secluded area. At the mouth of the U, there is only 
  blue-green ocean to be seen with exception of the tribal gathering raft 
  dipping on the waves. The tide slips greedily ashore, concealing and 
  enfolding all it can reach. 
        Midnight passes and the second moon rises to chase after the first. 
  The silence is nearly complete and all you hear is the soft sound of water 
  in the distance. The bright tangle of the Waterfall glitter brightly the hot 
  summer skies. The moon and stars dancing overhead dancing attendance.
Contents:
Flashfire
Obvious exits:
Fire  Camp area <N>  East <E>  Swim <S>

Late night and Coralfire wanders along the beach, barefoot to enjoy the 
  feeling of the sand on her feet. It's good to be home, after all. She is 
  only half paying attention to where she is going, knowing there are others 
  here who don't know who she is. Most are friendly though, and she's had a 
  chance to visit with family. Silently she moves though, having learned from 
  Shadowslip and the Raft elves.

Late night, and the human woman is not the only person out and about on the 
  beach. A figure significantly larger and broader of frame than just about 
  every other being on the island sits on one of the boulders overlooking the 
  beach; in fact, from the size of him, he can't be anything but a human 
  himself.
Vardeus, his hair ruffled in a passing breeze, pays no mind to the beach 
  behind him. Some of his attention is caught by the activities of the objects 
  in his hands: a small piece of driftwood, which he strives to whittle with 
  one of his iron daggers. The rest of it is on the ocean, however, and he 
  watches it with a kind of barely shuttered, agitated frustration. 
  Frustrated, too, is the sound of his voice as he sings absently under his 
  breath, the words of a Vraeyan sailing song keeping a rhythm to his 
  whittling.

Nighttime, especially in the tropical climates, is a much more comfortable 
  time for one Flashfire, the tall, fuzzy wolfelf preferring shade and cool 
  water during the day while he's more apt to roam at night. Vardeus has been 
  a source of some curiosity and interest, though for the most part he's been 
  watched from a bit of a distance, close enough that Flashfire can keep tabs 
  on him without the human noticing. Sight good, he spots the occasional glint 
  of a blade while the odd song finds his ears from the spot in a bit of 
  shrubbery he's crouched in, blending in with much of the greenery around the 
  beach.

Coralfire continues along, catching the odd sound of singing. Around here, 
  that's enough to wend her feet towards the source. She pauses as she spies 
  the singer. Odds are that isn't an elf. Well, Keffiza did say there were 
  humans over here too. She stops where she is, a good few paces away, a brow 
  arching. Her hands move to her hips and one knee bends alertly before she 
  pitches her voice to carry, in elfin. "Calm tides."

Instantly, the low, gravelly baritone singing stops, and the man on the rock 
  whips his head around in the direction of the voice. Eyes the color of the 
  ocean look vaguely, unsettledly sheepish, as though he's just been caught at 
  some sort of intimate activity, and is embarrassed to have been so caught; 
  however, when Vardeus realizes that the person who has called out to him is 
  in fact... well, from what he can tell, _not_ one of the Little People, his 
  expression turns to one of apparent shock. "Ah... taydes," he calls back, 
  the elfin word awkwardly accented in his voice.

Coralfire
        Tall and slender, the woman before you is a definite athlete. She has 
  the lean lines of a swimmer, body muscled and toned, while leaving the 
  feminine curves that mark her as female. Her complexion has been tanned a 
  rich golden brown by the sun. The coppery waves that spill down around her 
  face have been bleached to a lighter fire red and even touches of blonde in 
  places, lending highlights and depth to the gentle waves. Her features are 
  fine and delicate, set in a heart shaped face. A hint of natural rose colors 
  her upswept cheekbones and full lips. Her odd, slightly pointed ears can be 
  seen as normally she she wears her waist length hair back into a functional 
  braid down her back. Her bright blue eyes have the barest of slants, lending 
  an exotic appeal to her face. 
        She is wearing clothing made of a combination of styles. Green leather 
  breeches hug to her slender, shapely legs, going down into sturdy, but 
  supple leather boots of the same color. Both breeches and boots have some 
  slight mottling to them to lend better camouflage. Tucked in the top of her 
  boots are a pair of knives for protection. Her top is a mottled brown and 
  green tunic made of softer sea elf fabric... though the style is definitely 
  wolfrider. It is made for camouflage.

Flashfire's head tilts as the second human, one he's more used to seeing in 
  this world, walks in and speaks to the strange seaman in the elfin tongue. 
  Settling down a bit lower for the moment, he continues to listen as Vardeus 
  more or less answers back, at least in a way that he can make out what he's 
  trying to say.

Coralfire listens to that accent, and she is rather bemused by it. What did he 
  just say? It's too bad she didn't get to speak much to Kephissa before they 
  got separated. "Was it you Keffiza was looking for?" she asks, curiously. 
  She's not entirely sure what he just said, but it seems like it was a bit of 
  a greeting. Coralfire certainly does look like she's Olbar, yes. At least 
  she does so far. Wait until she gets hold of the weaver around here, and 
  perhaps she'll be changing her wardrobe to match the weather. Maybe. "I'm 
  Coralfire."

So stunned is Vardeus to see a woman of his own kind here that for a moment he 
  just stares, half-whittled driftwood in one hand, knife in the other. Then 
  he catches himself, shutting his mouth with force enough that elfin ears 
  might almost hear his teeth snap, and slides the knife into the empty sheath 
  at his side before he slides off his perch on the rock. "Vardeus," he says, 
  pointing at himself, and then his brow furrows, in intermingled frustration 
  and pre-emptive apology. "No... hae good elf-say. You... _huimin_...!"

Flashfire rises a bit and at least considers moving elsewhere, but it seems to 
  be an interesting thing, listening to Vardeus trying to talk in elfin. He's 
  been watching the man when he could, but he'd missed the progress made with 
  the language. As for the wolfelf, he still doesn't know the stranger's 
  tongue, but at least it looks like some communication may be improving. 
  After glancing around his own area, he sinks back down, this time to all 
  fours.

Coralfire has very good elfin, but no Vardeus-speak at all. She puzzles out 
  the words, trying to figure out what's being said. "True enough. I'm not an 
  elf. I'm human." she says, eventually. She moves closer, now that she won't 
  surprise this stranger. "You must know Keffiza. She's on the beach, across 
  the vast deep." She tries to use simpler words, though this language is 
  actually her first. "Vardes? Vardos? Vardees?" she tries to get that name, 
  and a soft laugh escapes her, curving her lips in a smile, as she raises 
  both hands, palms up.

_Now_ it seems to register with this big stranger that this woman has uttered 
  the name of one of his crewmates twice now -- and it provokes first a start 
  and then a broad smile that somehow doesn't quite manage to dispell the 
  anxious frustration in his eyes, not yet. "Kephissa, aye!" he answers 
  swiftly, bobbing his wind-tousled head. He seems not only unbothered by the 
  strange woman's approach, but even rather wonderstruck by her. With an 
  unthinking, restless energy to his gestures, he once again indicates 
  himself, this time with the hand that holds the half-carved figurine. "I, 
  Var-de-us. Kephissa... elf-say word, _tribe_? Kephissa tribe! _You_ _see_ 
  Kephissa? See Valnek?" His hands keep moving as he speaks, long lean fingers 
  indicating his eyes to try to help clarify 'see', his free one flexing at 
  the empty air as if he hopes to pull better words out of the very night 
  itself.

As the five-fingers attempt to talk to each other, Flashfire slips quietly out 
  of the brush to settle himself a few lengths out into the open, possibly 
  able to be spotted if either sees the way his eyes shine in the night. 
  Vardeus..Kephissa..Valnek. At least he knows the first name, but the two 
  that follow don't register.

Coralfire chuckles a bit at all that. Well, if she can make out the Elfin 
  words, she can understand you. Mostly. "Vardeus," she repeats, listening to 
  the sounds themselves and trying to say what she hears. The accent might not 
  match, but she gets a close approximation. Valnek - no. Keffiza looked for 
  him." Coralfire's brow furrows. Oh, this is worse than learning the human 
  speech from Shadowslip! At least they had a language in common. She glances 
  around the beach as she thinks, catching sight of the shining of eyes, but 
  disregarding it. Her attention goes back to Vardeus. "He went other way."

Valnek wasn't around? This seems to disturb the man called Vardeus, and hsi 
  brow furrows further as he struggles to try to figure out how to put what he 
  desperately wants to say into the limited set of words he possesses. "Nae 
  see Valnek," he acknowledges frustratedly, shoving his empty hand back 
  through his hair as he nods and then goes on, "Kephissa, nae hurt? You 
  see--" Skyfather! What's the right word? "Ah... ah, other huimins? Like 
  Kephissa? Like Vardeus?"

Cautiously, Flashfire sticks closer to the ground as the elfin-shaped mass of 
  fur and claws approaches a bit closer, growing more certain that there isn't 
  anything to really worry about for the time being. They're just talking. 
  Maybe he can, too. Soon enough, more of him may be visible, shifted into 
  more of a crouched, sitting position again as he watches openly.

Coralfire works her way through that one. "Kephiza no hurt. No, no others like 
  you. Others like me, yes. Coralfire." She repeats her name once more, 
  absently gesturing towards herself. Not really a human name, but that's 
  okay. She's just special. No, really. Ask her brother Talorin about her. He 
  would no doubt love to kill her, since she associates with demons. Erm, but 
  that's another story. Coral glances around and finds a rock to sit on, 
  somewhere she can let her feet touch the water and enjoy the sensation. "You 
  missing more tribe?"

Quietharm arrives from up the beach.
Quietharm has arrived.

Well, all right. So 'tribe' may not really be the proper one one might want to 
  use for the crew of a Vraeyan ship -- but it's the closest word Vardeus has 
  right now, and it'll do him for the time being. "Koorelfaer," he repeats, 
  brows winging down over his eyes, as he gleans her name. 'Missing'. That's a 
  word he's not sure he knows, but he's willing to hazard a guess. His face 
  falls. So do both his hands, though he still holds the driftwood he'd been 
  whittling. "More... tribe. Gone. Many gone."

Quietharm ambles her way up the beach, habitually soaked as she made runs 
  between the island and mainland. A bit fatigued now, she drags herself to a 
  gathering of three figures just ahead, two notably tall, one slightly 
  shorter. Tipping her head up to examine each in turn, the huntress proffers 
  an uneasy smile. One was familiar, the others vaguely. She eventually ceases 
  all motion when she comes within a few paces of those gathered. "((Hello, 
  Vardeus.))" To Coralfire and Flashfire, she switches to elven. "Tides. What 
  is going on?"

Coralfire is sitting on a boulder, chatting with Vardeus, or trying to. 
  Flashfire is crouched a ways away, listening in and openly watching. It's 
  late night, and Coralfire has her toes in the water, enjoying the waves 
  playing over them. "Calm waves, Quietharm," she says, with a smile, though 
  her eyes widen a bit. "You speak the language of Vardeus?" There is 
  hesitation before the name, and she pronounces it very carefully, coming 
  almost close to getting it right.

Flashfire frowns at the bits of conversation he picks up on, opening his mouth 
  once before shutting it afterwards when Quietharm appears and greets the 
  seafaring man in his own tongue. That earns a few blinks of the eyes before 
  he attempts to explain, his answer rather minimal. "Lost..tribe..?"

Truth be told, Vardeus hadn't actually seen Flashfire until the wolfelf speaks 
  up; now that he does, though, the Vraeyan captain blinks noticeably in his 
  direction, staring at him oddly, as if not entirely convinced he's not 
  seeing a fever dream come to life. Only when he glances swiftly at both 
  Coralfire and Quietharm and sees no sign of shock in either of their faces 
  at the sight of him does he seem to hesitantly accept him as part of the 
  conversation... and even so, the arrival of Quietharm provokes visible 
  relief from him. "Kyethaerm! Taydes!" he greets her, before gesturing with 
  those restless hands of his at the human woman. "Koorelfaer come. Say 
  elf-say, say see Kephissa -- ((ach!))" His rugged features twist up in weary 
  frustration. "((Skyfather, I need more words here!))"

Flashfire
        At first glance, it is clear that Flashfire isn't at all like most 
  elves. One can see a fine layer of fur over any skin that's exposed - even 
  his face, but nothing shows on his palms or beneath his feet. Its color is a 
  rusty reddish-brown. The Glider-tall elf's face is marked with 
  larger-than-normal eyes of a golden yellow, surrounded by a mane of fire-red 
  hair that darkens a bit as it trails down to partially frame the rest of his 
  face. It is a bit darker at the roots and his hair rests somewhat wildly on 
  his head, with no rhyme or reason as to where it falls. His pointed ears are 
  upswept, and a thickening tuft of fur-like hair can be seen around his 
  earlobes. His nose pokes out slightly, turning up very faintly at the tip, 
  and when his lips part, you can notice his canines are sharp, definitely a 
  telling sign that Flashfire is a 'throwback' of sorts, wolfen qualities 
  stronger in him.
        Those attributes are clearly enhanced by his current appearance. 
  Flashfire wears no clothing over his fur, though it is thick enough to allow 
  him to look decent in the necessary areas. His weapons of choice are either 
  a spear or a bow and arrows, a spear commonly found in his possession these 
  days. Once smaller and somewhat lanky, he's undergone quite a...growth 
  spurt, suddenly, even more lanky than before. It seems that, for the most 
  part, he's able to get around pretty well in this new form.

Quietharm draws her lips into a thin line, the corners creasing upward at the 
  several looks aimed her way when she greets Vardeus. Shrugging a bit 
  awkwardly, she lightly remarks, "A little." Turning to face Vardeus, the 
  she-elf blinks several times before regarding Vardeus with amusement. 
  "((Skyfather no help you here. Kephizza, Valneck and I make little raft for 
  them to use on big sea. They come to little land on raft.))" She makes 
  several motions with her hands, indicating the proposed plan.

Coralfire is actually a little curious about Flashfire, since she's never met 
  him particularly. Though she's perhaps seen him from a distance before, 
  having grown up at the Raft. Maybe not. She listens to Quietharm's words, 
  though mostly they slide right over her. High Ones, but it's quite a neat 
  sounding thing. She glances back at Flashfire, and then at Vardeus, unsure 
  which one should get more of her attention. You know, some moons, you can go 
  forever without seeing anything interesting. And now this?

Flashfire sits up further as Vardeus stares his way with that weirded-out 
  expression on his face. Causes the wolfelf's head to tilt in response. Is it 
  possible the man doesn't recognize him? Yellowed eyes shift towards 
  Quietharm as she speaks in the man's own tongue, quite a few words in fact. 
  As far as it goes with Coralfire, this isn't the first time Flashfire's been 
  here, so she may have caught sight of him at some time in the past. He's 
  silent, however.

Quietharm's news is the first good news Vardeus had had in days, and though he 
  does not quite sag per se in his relief, a measure of tension nevertheless 
  eases out of his face and frame. Kephissa and Valnek are coming _here_! 
  Impetuously, he crosses what little distance remains between him and the 
  small she-elf in two quick strides of his long legs; then, he drops right 
  down to one knee and seizes her in a hug. "Is _good_ say!" he cries. 
  "Kephissa, Valnek come? Nae hurt? Nae hurt big?" Then he pulls back, most of 
  his anxiety eased. But not all of it. "Kyethaerm nae see more ((crew))? Nae 
  see more, ah... tribe?" And then his gaze wanders back to Flashfire again, 
  distinctly bemused. To him, he says haltingly, "Vardeus... see you? Head 
  hurt... _you_ come?"

Quietharm emits a short, startled noise as the large human sweeps her up in a 
  hug. She initially tenses, but then relaxes as she reaches around to embrace 
  Vardeus in return. Drawing away, she parts them to pat his arm reassuringly 
  and a bit sadly. "((It is good. I no see other crew. Just Kephizza and 
  Valneck..sorry.))" She wears a sly little smile now, crossing her arms 
  against her chest. She shifts her weight to the other foot, and for the 
  first time acknowledges that she was the shortest one present.. how ironic. 
  Most of her comrades were shorter than she, on the average. Ah well, variety 
  was the spice of life.. or so they said. Her gaze meanders slowly from one 
  face to the next, taking in alien features and expressions. Truth be told, 
  she hadn't seen an elf quite like Flashfire before, and it intrigued her.

Coralfire glances to Vardeus at his words, and then she looks over at 
  Quietharm. "Did I hear you say Keffiza?" she asks. "She coming here? That 
  might help her out. She was looking for her tribe too, I think." she says, 
  before she just has to go closer to Flashfire to take a look at him. She 
  pads over, hands in front of her, palm down, fingers spread. "Calm waves, 
  friend. I am Coralfire, and who are you?" Even if she's seen Flashfire 
  before, he wasn't quite so tall then, was he?

Flashfire isn't exactly like tales depict Timmorn Yellow-Eyes himself, but the 
  resemblance can be found. He, too, tenses visibly when Vardeus all but 
  springs to his feet and engulfs Quietharm in the embrace, coming to bite at 
  his lip as more of the snippets of conversation come to be grasped. It 
  sounds as though others of Vardeus' kind are coming, then? At the questions 
  the man asks of him, his head bobs in a slow nod. "Aye.." he answers 
  somewhat gruffly before Coralfire approaches. Seems his very first instinct 
  upon seeing the elfin-garbed human is to inch back a step or two, then sniff 
  in her direction. "Flashfire.." he answers quietly. As for his height, he 
  may or may not have been this tall the first time he was here. It's been 
  some time.

"Kephissa-tribe, Vardeus-tribe..." Ach! Help him out here, Quietharm? Vardeus 
  makes that absentminded gesture again, the agitated flex of his fingers that 
  suggests he's trying to pull words out of the very air. Still kneeling, he 
  shoots a look up at Coralfire and then gets the word he wants: "Same! 
  Vardeus -- ((captain))! Elf-say... chief? Chief!" This small triumph's 
  enough to make him smile, just a bit, lopsidedly. Only then does he absently 
  rub his free hand at his side, frowning down at himself. Ow. Cursed ribs. 
  Now he shifts again to just sit right down on the sand, and as he does, he 
  espies the half-whittled figurine he's still holding. And he just stares at 
  it, broodingly, as the human woman and the elves converse around him.

Quietharm keeps her gaze riveted to the tall elf; seems they just kept 
  sprouting higher each year. The beach was now full of them, in her opinion.. 
  not that that mattered much. Picking up a few lines from the male human 
  again, the elfess nods once, almost curtly. Turning her body a bit to face 
  the others, she explains, "Kephizza and Valneck are a part of his tribe. He 
  is their leader, called a 'Captain'. It basically entails the same rights 
  that goes with being a Chief, or so I have come to believe." That said, 
  Quietharm cranes her head to regard Vardeus once more, a fleeting wisp of 
  concern foreshadowed upon her features. She lays a hand on his side, raising 
  questioning eyes to his stead. "((Still hurt bad? Need new bandages?))"

Coralfire just holds her hand out, wondering if this strange wolf elf will 
  want to sniff for real. Rather like Shadowslip's wolffriend, isn't he? She 
  glances back at Vardeus. Chief is he. Oy. Well, too bad Jacynth is already 
  married. Though he is quite something to look at, isn't he? She forces 
  herself to look back over at Flashfire, just in case he decides to bite or 
  something. Somehow he's not quite so cute as the human to her. "Thank you 
  for translating, Quietharm. I appreciate it. It made me very curious to see 
  Keffiza. Even if only for a very short time.

"He's..chief?" Flashfire repeats to Quietharm, his words still rather few and 
  a little far between. Indeed, he can be quite the odd one at times, and it's 
  not that uncommon for him to go through spells where he's much more wolf 
  than elf. This seems like a time when the balance is a bit skewed towards 
  wolf, given that he approaches Coralfire on all fours, moving like he's done 
  it many times before before pausing to sniff the hand again, eyeing 
  Coralfire with a bit more curiosity. Can't remember seeing a hoo-man that 
  looks more like an elf in dress, smells a bit like elf too.

Apparently unaware of Coralfire's scrutiny, Vardeus stares at the little piece 
  of wood in his hands: from the shape of it, one might perhaps glean the 
  vague shape of a form of some kind, human or elfin. It has a crudely carved 
  head, shoulders, the impression of arms. More than that, though, is 
  indeterminate -- and it brings back more of the brooding look to Vardeus' 
  ocean-colored eyes. "((Nae hurt sae bad, no, Kyethaerm,))" he rumbles 
  distractedly to the little elf. _Just badly enough that I still can't go 
  look for my crew and do something besides thinking about home... gods! Stop 
  it, man, it won't help you to brood, now will it?_ Desperate for a 
  distraction from the turn of thought threatening to ambush him even now, he 
  forces his attention to Flashfire as well. "I chief," he rasps to the 
  wolfelf. "((Captain.)) You...?" Feh. He isn't sure of the word for 'what', 
  but that's obvious query in his features now.

Quietharm uncrosses her arms, letting them rest at either side of her body. 
  "It is not a problem. Sometimes I just get caught up with their speech, and 
  I tend to forget myself." When Flashfire drops to all fours, she watches him 
  closely, a bit taken aback. What an odd being. She knew that she was indeed 
  part wolfrider herself, but this elf clearly embodied the very aspect of 
  'being of the blood'. Nodding affirmatively to the wolfen elf, she adds, 
  "Yes, he is a Chief. If I am not mistaken, he told me earlier that he has a 
  second out there somewhere, still missing. Her name is Tiana. I once found 
  him calling her name in a nightmare. She must be very important to him." 
  With that, she shoots a look to Vardeus.

Coralfire smiles at Flashfire, reaching out to touch his arm. "You're 
  different than most of the other elves." she says. She hadn't entirely 
  understood wolfblood until about now. Her eyes go back to Vardeus and 
  Quietharm and then she shrugs. "I'm a hunter, for my people. Not chief." 
  Well, chief hunter perhaps in another season or two, but that's another 
  story. "Oh. What happened? Where is he from?" she asks, distracted now by 
  the thought of the story she hasn't heard yet.

Flashfire also casts a glance towards that figure Vardeus had been working on, 
  making out that it does hold an elfin or human-like shape so far. Eyes shift 
  back to Coralfire, more specifically her hand as it meets his arm and the 
  fur that covers it. Different? That he is, the stating of the obvious met 
  with a half-smile and a nod. "Noticed," he comments before nodding to 
  Quietharm's explanation of what Vardeus' status is. His answer to the 
  'Captain' is on the simplistic side as he points to himself with a 
  claw-tipped finger. "Not chief.." That's the most he figures the man is 
  asking so far.

As Quietharm looks at him, Vardeus is still rather distracted by this bizarre 
  wolf-creature that seems to move like both an elf _and_ a wolf, and which 
  also _talks_ -- in the speech of the Little People, he thinks he's able to 
  make out. Though to be honest, Vardeus has seen so many wonders as of late 
  that in his current mood he's not entirely certain of anything other than 
  that he'd give his right arm to see a few more familiar faces, to be able to 
  converse in more than broken snatches of sentences. To have his lyre in his 
  hands and be able to make proper music again. Flashfire's answer is not 
  exactly informative, though. And so Vardeus starts as he realizes Quietharm 
  has said _that_ name -- "((Tiana?))" he blurts then, gruffly. "((What about 
  Tiana?))"

"He comes from a place he calls Vrae. They sail rafts called 'ships'... and I 
  think he wants to know what type of station the wolf elf holds." Dark eyes 
  turn to Flashire appraisingly, waiting for a response. After none is 
  provided, she scrunches up her nose in slight irritation. At the mention of 
  Tiana's name, however, Quietharm turns to settle her sights on Vardeus 
  again. "((You said 'Tiana' when you slept, once. You said it many times. You 
  woke up, and then..))" She shrugs, barely a visable movement of her 
  shoulders. "((It was over. I tried tell you, but you no understand.))"

Coralfire shrugs, and settles down, content to listen to the sounds. Maybe 
  she'll start picking some up, aside from just names if she hears them 
  enough. She gives up on Flashfire, since he's obviously not the talkative 
  sort. Well enough, she can sit silently, when she wants to. And besides, 
  it's really very late now, and she's beginning to tire. A yawn is stifled. 
  "Is there - is anyone going out looking for the rest of Vardeus' tribe?" she 
  asks, looking to see if there's something she can help with. Though if there 
  are wolves on the hunt, they'll find the humans, no doubt.

Flashfire looks from Vardeus to Coralfire and even Quietharm next, frowning as 
  all three of them seem to react a bit poorly to his lack of words. Sitting 
  down and patting at the spot on his arm Coralfire touched, he figures out 
  that Vardeus probably meant something else. "I hunt..can scout, track.." 
  He's not always this quiet, really. "Ships..?" comes the question to 
  Quietharm, confusion evident. "Don't know where tribe is." he shrugs at 
  Coralfire's question.

_Vardeus_ would like to go out to look for Vardeus' tribe. However, certain 
  persons have strongly advised him against straining his still-healing ribs 
  by the journey to the mainland, and, so, well, he is a frustrated man with 
  too much restlessness and not enough strength to easily burn it off. And is 
  that a _blush_ beginning to darken his cheeks? Human eyes could not pick it 
  out in the darkness, but perhaps elfin eyes could. Especially elfin eyes 
  with the sharpness of the wolf-blood. "((Tiana is... little captain,))" he 
  mutters, and his voice grows even gruffer. Now he takes out that knife 
  again, going to work on the crude little figure he holds now, bent on doing 
  _something_ even if he winds up whittling the driftwood into splinters. 
  "((She's... a good little captain. Gives me bloody buggerin' hell, though. 
  Prob'ly gonna be after givin' me a thrashin' an' a half for the mess I've 
  got us in now an' no mistake. She never has liked me much since I went and 
  got us bloody buggerin' _lost_...))" The words pick up speed as they come 
  out of him, but not volume. Forgetting that he's probably surpassed 
  Quietharm's meager knowledge of his syntax, just needing to say _something_ 
  to vent the frustration out of his system even if his words are nonsense. 
  With each word he whittles clumsily at the wood; apparently, he's not 
  exactly skilled at it. His knife slips, nicking one of his fingers, and with 
  a sharp hissed oath, he brings it up to his mouth to suck on it, eyes 
  smoldering.

A worried look passes over Quietharm's features, but then darkens, like a 
  stormcloud waiting to hail. "We shall find them." She gestures down to 
  Flashfire, still unsure of what to make of the lupine being. "If anything, 
  he can sniff them out. Native human or not, they all have a distinct smell, 
  to be sure." When the wolf elf finally takes the initiative to speak up 
  again, Quietharm spills into a winning smile. "Yes, ships..big sails. Like 
  our rafts, but much larger." As Vardeus spills into the ramble of unrelated 
  words to her limited vocabularly, Quietharm spins on her heel, eyes wide 
  open. "((Vardeus, slow! I not know much!))" Ever as he grazes the sharp 
  blade over his flesh, peeling a thin, uneven graft away, she growls quietly. 
  "((You hurt -you-. You much too angry now. Calm, no more worry. Tiana is 
  well.))" She just had to be, judging by the retalliation Vardeus displayed. 
  The man had something going for her.

It would seem he does, hmm? Coralfire understands even less than one word, but 
  she shrugs, eyes closing and then blinking open to look over to look at 
  Vardeus. "Should go slow," she says, before she stifles another yawn. She 
  curls up in the sand, resting her cheek on one arm and just considers the 
  sadness of losing family, of not knowing where you are. She sighs. "No 
  rush." Course, she is just about drifting off to sleep where she is, now 
  that she's let herself stop moving. So much for switching to wolfrider time 
  for a while. Her eyes are heavy lidded and slowly close once more.

Quietharm has been quite the swift study in what words he's been able to teach 
  her, through physical objects, through gestures, through pantomimes. Enough 
  that now, though her phrasing is still crude, it is far better than his own 
  in _her_ tongue -- and more than enough to bring a look of distinct 
  embarrassment to the man's countenance. Uncomfortably he looks away from her 
  eyes, struck with the uneasy sense that she sees far more of him than he's 
  comfortable with revealing to anyone. His gaze passes over the human woman, 
  Koorelfaer... sleepy? And the inscrutable wolf-creature. Then it skitters 
  out to the ocean again, drawn there inevitably, just as the tides are drawn 
  in to the shore. "((I... nae calm, Kyethaerm. Nae calm... many days,))" he 
  mutters.

Flashfire is certainly one who could sniff out a scent, that's for certain. 
  After Quietharm explains the concept of a ship, a hint of recognition 
  flashes before he eyes Vardeus when he speaks more of Tiana, having heard 
  that name many times now. Did his face flush? Hmmmmmm. He doesn't even 
  bother trying to follow all the Vrae-speak, instead shifting into more of a 
  seated position as he watches the man work with the knife, getting himself 
  along the way. "Careful.."

Quietharm temporarily looses her attention on the group to scan the beaches 
  and coastal tide. She had been expecting her young son, Kelp, (who in 
  reality wasn't that young anymore, although she could always make with some 
  pretense) to show himself earlier in the course of the day. As always, the 
  pip was most likely somewhere off with Waterlark or another playmate who 
  could do him the same amount of trouble. She nibbles her lower lip 
  disparagingly, before focusing back on Flashfire and Vardeus, just as 
  Coralfire nods off. What an odd, rag-tag group they had made up. She sighs 
  and just watches the others.

"Vardeus nae hurt big," the human mutters then, switching back to his clumsily 
  pronounced store of elfin words, though it makes him scowl to hear his own 
  awkward phrasing. Fretfully, he wipes his blade on the black pants that 
  Shay'la has stitched together for him, before jamming the iron weapon back 
  into its sheath. The figurine he stares at a moment, before jamming it away 
  behind the thick belt that encircles his middle, for lack of anywhere else 
  to put it. He looks at Quietharm. Then he looks at Flashfire. And then he 
  announces to the both of them, smirking slightly, "((I hope the two o' you 
  ain't after waitin' for _me_ to hold up this conversation.))"

Flashfire's somewhat shaggy head nods to the statement of the sailor that he's 
  fine, and truly, it /was/ just a little nick. "Good you didn't cut your 
  finger off." he smirks, again looking lost at the Vrae-words he adds before 
  settling back down into a partially curled-up pose, chin settled across an 
  arm as he watches Vardeus.

Quietharm barely manages to catch the deft movement the human made of that 
  strange figurine, but she does note it. It still sticks into view, being 
  tucked behind the belt as it was. Approaching it with an ambiguous 
  expression abiding on her countenance, the smallest of the three reached out 
  to give one good, quick tug on the item of her interest. "((I know Vardeus 
  not hurt. What that?))" Another yank.

The human looks down at it, his eyes liquid in the moonlight, pensive. Though 
  he's not about to keel over on the sand as the apparently entirely relaxed 
  Coralfire has done, still, there are lines of weariness etched into his 
  face. He is _tired_, but then again... language lessons by moonlight trump 
  restless solitude and dreams in Raven's odd little tent, as far as he's 
  concerned. "Vardeus make... ah, ((doll)). Vardeus huimin, ((doll))... little 
  huimin. Vardeus think--" And he taps his temple, still pensive-eyed, as he 
  finishes on a hoarse exhalation of breath, "Little... ((sister))."

Openly confused and not at all for the first time, Flashfire blinks a few 
  times before simply rubbing behind an ear, giving himself a bit of a 
  once-over to pick at a few pieces of twig and such that have found a home in 
  thicker fur and hair. "Made little..hoo-man..?" he questions. There was once 
  a time that he and Suntop made a small palace and bowl with clay near the 
  river that runs by Lostholt...

Doll...Doll...nope, she hadn't chanced to encounter that word yet. 
  "((Dooll?))" A quick snap of eyes shifting from Flashfire to Vardeus again, 
  and it's clear that Quietharm is thinking hard. It was a figurine he 
  whittled, to be sure, so that must be the word he used to describe the 
  creation. Running a hand through her hair, a bit agitated, the female elf 
  throws glances between the two introspectively. She tries again with the 
  latter word, "((Seester? Little Seester? Who little Seester?))"

"((Sister)) is..." Gods, trying to think of how to explain concepts like this, 
  makes his head hurt; Vardeus rubs his brow, then blows out a breath and 
  gestures at himself. "Vardeus... ((man))." Oh, here we go. He turns, and 
  gestures over to the slumbering Coralfire, adding, "Koorelfaer ((woman))." 
  Turning back around, he continues, "((Man, woman))..." He brings his hands 
  together. "((Join. Uh, marry.)) Make... little huimins. ((Babies.))" 
  Remembering Shay'la's own pantomime of her lost child, he tries to mimic it 
  now, though the gesture of rocking an invisible baby looks a trifle awkward 
  with his big broad arms. "((Sister... baby like Koorelfaer.))" Get it? He 
  sure hopes so. Anxiously, Vardeus looks between both of his odd little 
  companions.

Flashfire's head could start to hurt if he tried to follow half of what 
  Vardeus is trying to show, so he doesn't even bother. It's beyond him, 
  really. Glancing elsewhere, he comes to stare at the moons up in the sky for 
  a number of moments, gaze almost locked on them.

Quietharm's look goes from befuddled to enlightened in a snap. She points to 
  Vardeus, repeating his actions to confirm the idea forming in her head. 
  "((Man))" To Coralfire, she acknowledges, "((Woman))". Pressing both of her 
  palms together, she states. "((Join-Marry, Make little humans?))" Well, that 
  made a world of sense, to be sure. Sister was still a sketchy concept, 
  though. "((Baby Coralfire. Little Coralfire, little Vardeus. Join-Marry, 
  Make little humans?))" That did it, she was completely lost. She suddenly 
  got a strong mental image of two human children, the girl giving birth to 
  more little children just like the originals, and that didn't give a clear 
  story at all...unless the girl was what he meant, in comparison to the boy. 
  Boy and Girl, both small, perhaps both of the same parents? Ah, mayhap 
  sister and brother? "((I think I know. Little Sister like..))" Oops, 
  problem. How to word that to convey she understood?

C'mon, man, think! Vardeus pounds a lightly clenched fist at the air for a 
  moment, then rubs that same fist across his left eye before straightens up 
  again. "((Aye, aye..... ah, man, big! Vardeus big, Vardeus man. Maerro 
  little, Maerro little man, _boy_! Boy, little man. _Girl_, little woman!))" 
  As he speaks, he keeps those big lean hands of his moving, spreading them 
  apart first for 'big', bringing them closer together for 'little'. "((Man, 
  woman, make babies. Boy baby, girl baby. Girl baby, _sister_.))"

Showing just how deeply involved he's become with this particular 
  conversation, Flashfire props himself up on both hands, head craning up at 
  the moons before he offers them a howl. A much more content, relaxed look 
  flashes once he's finished, and he glances back to human and elf as if he 
  just did the most normal, commonplace thing imaginable.

Quietharm makes a fleeting motion in the air as she is drawn into the madness 
  that Vardeus presents, her need to absorb as much of his language as 
  possible spurning her on. "((Yes! Maerro little boy. Little man. Little boy 
  is to little girl. Little girl is to -sister- to little boy...!))" She would 
  have expanded on that further, had it not been cut short by the rather eerie 
  howl that Flashfire erupted into. She had never seen an elf actually howl 
  like a wolf, nor had the inclination to do so herself. Her eyes rivet to 
  Flashfire, and her head inclines to one side. "What did you just do, and 
  why?"

Had Vardeus not already been sitting down, he might well have fallen at the 
  unearthly sound that Flashfire unleashes to the skies. The big human jolts, 
  turning eyes more spooked now than they've been since his awakening on the 
  wolf-elf; his right hand sweeps to one of his daggers, though he does not 
  draw thanks to the fact that the... creature... seems to be happily still 
  sitting right there and not about to, oh, say, attack him or Quietharm or 
  Coralfire. "((A wolf,))" he mutters to himself, sounding rattled. "((A wolf 
  that talks. Walks like a man. But it howls, too, aye? Of course it does, 
  wolves howl...))" Gods. What kind of a land has he been dropped in, where 
  most of the beings that live here aren't even his own kind much less 
  familiar with his homeland? Where, as near as he can tell, beasts can stand 
  up on their feet and converse as men do? Where monsters can rise up out of 
  the ocean and demolish his ship--
_Don't think about that!_
Making a strange, strangled little noise in the back of his throat, then, 
  Vardeus frenetically rubs his hand across his face, as if by the force of 
  that action alone he could try to hide exactly how unsettled he is. 
  Especially after having the sheer _alienness_ of this place driven home to 
  him while trying to explain why he was trying to carve a doll to look like 
  his little sister.

Flashfire's initial reaction when Vardeus stares at him and starts for his 
  dagger is to tense up and inch back warily, seemingly as cautious towards 
  Vardeus as the man is towards him. Quietharm's question can only be answered 
  with a blank look and a number of eye blinks, only able to shrug and murmur, 
  "Why..? Because..." Because that's what he does. How do you explain 
  something that's completely natural to do? Indeed, at least he's not going 
  on the attack or anything of that nature. He just doesn't understand what 
  the big deal is. Yes, wolves howl. Suddenly left out of sorts at the way 
  Vardeus has reacted, looking rather frightened and all, the wolfelf begins 
  to draw back further, just in case.

Quietharm jumps just as Vardeus startles, but only for that reason. There were 
  enough wolves around the raft holt at any given time to assume that the 
  half-seaelf knew what a howl sounded like. It only perturbed her that an elf 
  would mimic the sound so perfectly, with a resonating quality to the high 
  pitched noise that rattled the trees. Looking fretfully at the human with 
  stricken concern abundant in her expression, Quietharm moves to comfort him. 
  "((No worry, Vardeus. He no hurt you. That <<elf>> not like other <<elfs>>. 
  He is safe, you are safe. He make sound because he does. Who he is))". She 
  lifts both webbed hands, palms facing up. It was a helpless move that showed 
  she couldn't make it anymore blunt. With regard to Flashfire, she blinks. 
  "You still haven't answered me.."

The wolf-creature is an _elf_?
Vardeus' half-panicked scrubbings of his hand across his face slow and finally 
  stop, and he flashes a glance sidelong at Quietharm. Uneasily he nods, just 
  enough to show that he'd heard and more or less already come to the same 
  conclusion... he thinks... he hopes. His mind has grown overfull, stretched 
  almost to the breaking point with all of the oddities he has seen on this 
  island of the Little People, when he'd already been worn down in heart and 
  spirit by the tribulations his crew has suffered at sea.
And all at once more of his outer resolve cracks away, letting leak into his 
  eyes a suddenly acutely vulnerable mix of despair, exhaustion, and more than 
  a little fear. It drops years off his age, making him seem suddenly 
  significantly younger. A heartbeat later, as if aware he's on the verge of 
  breaking down, he slams those anguished eyes of his shut, dropping his head 
  heavily down into one hand, reaching blindly with the other to clutch at the 
  half-done figurine as if it were a sacred talisman, his only charm against 
  losing himself entirely to chaos.

"What can I say?" Flashfire retorts a little defensively when Quietharm 
  presses for an answer. "Just felt it..in here." he explains, patting over 
  his heart with a hand. That's about the best she's going to get, the best he 
  can give. Hasn't she ever seen a Wolfrider howl? It's as much a part of them 
  as it is for the wolves themselves. But at least, well aware of the 
  discomfort and fright it stirred up in Vardeus, he tries to 'make it better' 
  somehow by standing up to approach slowly, a hand extending towards his 
  forearm if it isn't stopped first, trying to pat it once. "Didn't mean 
  to..scare." Hopefully it's understood. The man doesn't look very composed...

Quietharm is immediately at Vardeus' side, sensing a growing unrest in the man 
  that threatened to overtake him. She hadn't believed it had worn this far 
  into his psyche. He had grown stronger with each passing day physically, but 
  his emotional wounds were much more grave than she had realized. Her arms go 
  around his waist, and she hugs him tight, one hand rubbing slow, comforting 
  circles into his back. "((Slow, Vardeus. Hush. Quiet.))" She opens her eyes 
  to watch Flashfire approach, and then make contact with the human. Hoping 
  this would do something to ease his fears, the she-elf continues her 
  ministrations, beginning to hum in a low tone. She had reservations with 
  humans of course, but it was moot at this end, for she was rather fond of 
  Vardeus. "((No worry, no fear...))"

_Gods take you, Vardeus Alirreus, son of Marcos, sailor, seafarer, you are 
  -not- -going- -to- -cry-..._
Too late. A convulsive shudder sweeps through his frame at the contact of the 
  small arms around him; he hadn't known whether the elves would even _want_ 
  to hug one such as he after what Shay'la had told him people like him have 
  done to people like them. He'd impulsively gambled that Quietharm would not 
  mind, eager as she'd been to learn his language and help him find what's 
  left of the _Windrider_'s crew. Now, though, all he knows is that there are 
  suddenly arms about him providing comfort, and a hand on his arm, and 
  Vardeus is undone.
"Vardeus... know... ((wolf))-elf nae bad," he mumbles, the best he can manage. 
  And then a suspicious wetness begins to trickle out from under his lashes, 
  gleaming silver in the moonlight, as he shivers in Quietharm's hold.

Flashfire's hand returns to his side, it looking as though Quietharm is having 
  better success with Vardeus than what he tried. Oh well - she's developed a 
  stronger 'relationship' with him anyhow, working on bridging the language 
  barrier the way she has. "Remember..? Helped your..cub? Helped him back to 
  the tent.." See? He's not bad, an agreeing nod following the man's murmurs 
  as he stands nearby biting his lip in wondering what else to do. Maybe 
  another pat on the arm, which he tries, tentatively.

Quietharm tips her head back, exposing a length of her bronzed neck as she 
  feels something drop onto her head. One small nudge, stirring sensitive hair 
  follicles near the base of her forehead. As she watches Vardeus begin to 
  cry, a look of pure misery streaks across her countenance. Something tickles 
  in the corner of her own eyes, and they were quickly shining with unshed 
  tears. "((Vardeus, please. No pain. I am here. Other <<elf>> here. He say he 
  help find Maerro. He likes you too. We -care-))". She was speaking for other 
  elves, of course, and that might have been an overstatement on her part. At 
  this time, however, she wouldn't be open to -any- debate on what the 
  opinions the others held towards the strange visitors.

As far as Vardeus knows, what was left of the ship's stock of uzo went down 
  with the ship herself, in the treacherous monster-infested waters. Nor has 
  he seen any sign that the Little People have anything he would recognize as 
  wine or anything else he could use to drown his sorrows in temporary 
  forgetfulness. But now, hugged, murmured to, learning that at least in 
  _this_ elves and humans seem not entirely unalike, he finds a tiny grain of 
  comfort even as he hears himself croaking out dolefully, "((I cannae gae 
  home, Kyethaerm... ship's gone... m... monster... broke 'er. Killed 'em, 
  must hae killed most of 'em. And... we w... were lost. I dinnae... I dinnae 
  ken... I dinnae know how t' get home...))"
And if he can't have wine, he'll take the offered comfort of contact instead. 
  He turns his head slightly away from Quietharm, dimly aware he is crying, 
  shamed at the prospect of getting her wet and yet simultaneously aware that 
  such a worry is ridiculous. And as he does, he squeeze her with one arm 
  unthinkingly, while his other hand fumbles clumsily to pat whatever part of 
  the wolf-elf is nearest.

Call it a shoulder that Vardeus can reach, Flashfire not exactly objecting to 
  the touch right now. The man seems to be needing something like that, but he 
  knows not what else to say. Whatever he and Quietharm are saying remains 
  beyond his ability to understand, so he can't do much more than just 'be 
  there,' in some way. He probably does care in some way, even as the other 
  elf insists others do. He glances down at his hand, slowly making to rub 
  Vardeus' forearm with it, at least as long as he can manage it.

Quietharm squeezes Vardeus tightly, which took a great amount of strength on 
  her part to pull off. Drawing away slightly, the beset huntress keeps a 
  supportive hand at the man's back, urging him in the direction of Raven's 
  Tent with gently applied pressure. She watches Flashfire from across 
  Vardeus' midsection, a wealth of gratitude in that one look as she catches 
  his gaze. Nodding, she tilts her head up to settle her focus on Vardeus once 
  more. "((Come. You need rest, you are tired. Sleep. Feel better later. We 
  help.))" Taking a small, hesitating step forward, she timidly takes the lead.

Part of his mind rails at him that he should be ashamed of himself, losing his 
  grip on himself so severely... and yet, Vardeus _is_ tired. Another part of 
  him, a sterner, more rational part, points this out. And reminds him that he 
  _had_ already decided he needed the help of the Little People; should he 
  not, therefore, let go of his pride enough to admit that he _definitely_ 
  needs their help now? He can almost hear Tiana again, chastising him for 
  foolishness. He can almost see that look in her eyes when she'd caught him 
  swaying on his feet on the deck...
_Tiana._ Vardeus is swept all at once with a desire for _her_ arms around him, 
  which shakes him to his core as badly as everything else has done tonight. 
  _Now,_ he thinks foggily, _I -know- I'm tired..._
And so, shaken, unaccountably shy, Vardeus wobbles to his feet and lets 
  Quietharm coax him away, to sleep. And prays, as he goes, that he is tired 
  enough tonight that he will not dream.

[End log.]