THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
The longest part of the day has arrived, bringing with it the brightness of the daystar high over head.
Savith arrived near dusk two days ago. His bird is perched upon the cliff, and he even sent a message along with Streak, that it was urgent he speak with the tribe's chief. Since then, it's been a waiting game. As dawn nears, he wakes, having slept against his bond bird. Not the most comfortable place to rest, but rest it was, and the Chosen stands, folding his blankets and tucking them away, chirping and clicking to Winddance, back to the beach below.
The Chief must be a busy man indeed, because it has taken him this long to actually take the time, it would seem. Not usual, considering the Raft in general are usually quite eager to meet their Mountain visitors. Now though, he makes his way up towards the camp area, trident in hand. The bird and accompanying elf is not hard to spot, so it is a straight line he makes towards you. ** Fair tides, Savith. ** he greets the by now familiar face. He isn't quite his smiling self these days, though.
Ah. Finally. Savith looks over his shoulder before turning fully to face the chief. **Clear skies, Chief Firewater,** he replies. **I bring a message from My Lord Winnowill, of Blue Moutain, meant for you and you alone.** And it's right down to business.
** I see. ** Firewater sends, giving a faint nod of his head. Glancing around, he gives a wave of his hand towards the firepit and the driftwood logs left out as seating place there. Switching to private sending smoothly, he moves towards them himself, waiting for you to follow. ** What message does Lord Winnowill have? ** He can be business too, see.
Savith leaves his bird as he is bid, and flies to the fire pit. Enroute, a locksend drifts from his mind. By the time he has settled, Savith's eyes have gone flat and emotionless. IN a send locked to Firewater's mind, the touch of Savith's mind, mingled with His Lord's conveys the message, **My Lord... I, request that you, Chieftain of Raft, and any magic users and able-bodied elves you can spare from your home, travel to Blue Mountain. At the summit, we shall all, all the various tribes from across Two Moons, shall discuss what must be done about a destructive set of twins that have destroyed no less than one elven holt: Grove holt. My Lord feels... I feel... this is a matter that no single tribe or gathering of elves can handle alone.**
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Ah yes. Firewater goes quiet for a few moments, glancing down at the dormant firepit for a few moments. ** The Raft has not been too... welcome at the Mountain before. There have been complications. If Lord Winnowill can assure us that there will be none this time around, I am certain we will be able to come. ** That precept having been said though, Firewater continues, ** But in principle, the Raft agrees. We will join in whatever effort will be made to stop these twins. **
The Chosen smiles. It's a seductively dark expression, to which his eyes glimmer azure. **You have my personal Promise that no harm will come to /any/ of your tribe, so log as none move to harm any member of my family during their stay,** Savith replies... no. Not Savith. Winnowill. The Dark Lord of Blue Mountain sends through her Chosen, using his mind like a puppet. The feel of her mind strengthens, over powers the feel of Savith's own mind.
The change of sending tone is something that Firewater picks up on, the Chief narrowing his eyes faintly as he nods his head carefully. ** I see. Then we have an accord, as it is. I have business on the mainland as is. We will make our way to the Mountain at the same time. **
Savith nods, eyes still blue. **I have instructed my Chosen, Savith, to bring you or any other you wish to send ahead, on the back of his hawk, so you can inspect the area I have set aside for your tribe's use,** Winnowill replies through the mind of her puppet. **I can not stress enough how little time there is to gather and plan.** The smile fades, the Chosen's expression becoming more business like now that Raft's Aid is secured.
** I am certain we will find an arrangement for that. There is other things we would discuss as well, if there is time at the summit. ** Firewater sends, inclining his head towards the mind-riding Winnowill. ** Until then, Lord Winnowill? **
Again the Chosen nods, smiling a pleased and almost pleasant smile. **Of course, Chief Firewater,** Winnowill replies. **Savith knows what of what we spoke, and will wait two days here for you to inform him if he shall be carrying anyone to mountain.** When the send fades, Savith blinks, his eyes returning to their mossy hue. His shoulders slump and he exhales as if he had been holding his breath for far too long. Whew! That's just freaky...
The stiff smile Firewater returns is momentary, and fades quickly from his lips. By the time Savith seems to be Savith once more, Firewater is already rising to his feet. ** I have other business to attend to. I will see to it that you are given a more proper residence for your time here, as well as food, if you do not wish to hunt yourself. ** Firewater's stiffness is almost tangible, and his sending is a constrained one. Because when it comes to having your mind ridden, Firewater has experience on that part. It cost him three hundred years of memories in the end, and his tribe, until no more than a few hands of turns ago, and as such, this was not the most pleasant of experiences. ** Until later, Savith. ** he sends, giving a faint inclination of his head before turning and moving off.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
A Beach Side Chat
THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
Dawn has come, bringing with it the bright array of colors to light up the horizon.
Watersong comes down onto the campsite to see if the guest of the tribe has returned. She's wet from the Waterfall, but is air drying. It's rather late at night as she sashays down from the forest in her bare feet.
After the flight with Firestorm, Savith has sent her off to rest while he stayed awake, unable to sleep. Finding Winddance's perch cold and unyielding, the Chosen opted for the fireside. His eyes upon the flames, the CHosen seems lost in thought.
Watersong smiles, "Calm tides Chosen. How are you doing tonight?" She comes up opposite of him so he can see her by the fire light, "Might I join you?"
Green eyes blink a few times as Savith pulls his gaze from the flames. His gaze settles upon the friendly Watersong. "I am well," he replies, a light shrug and a shake of his head his only answer to her question about her joining him.
Watersong smiles as she sits down by the fire, "How was the manyteeth steak? Did you enjoy it?" She asks as she folds her hands on her legs as she is sitting with her legs folded under her demurely.
"It was most filling," the Chosen replies, eyes upon Watersong as she sits by the fire. "Thank you again for bringing it. I was most thoughtful."
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I can make another one for you while you stay here. I don't mind. I enjoy cooking, almost as much as I enjoy making music." Watersong's eyes light up as she talks about music. "So besiding doing your Lord's bidding what do you like to do?"
Savith quirks a brow at the question. "My Lord's Will," he replies. His voice is flat in tone, though his eyes remain attentive and curious. The offer of cooking recieves no comment. Merely, it is just filed away for later.
Watersong ohs, "So that's all you do? It must be boring, but each to their own. I couldn't do that all day. I'm always singing or humming, even if it's not out loud."
Savith just nods. For a heartbeat he waits, not giving a reply to Watersong's comment about how boring it must be. With nothing more to say, he turns back to the fire.
Watersong continues to chatter on, not minding Savith's silence, just gives her more chance to talk, "Do you have any family? Or squirts? That's children if you didn't know. I have one, but he's with is father in the plains." She sighs wistfully, "I miss him sometimes, but they were happy in the plains and I am happy at the ocean."
Savith would have replied, but Watersong just kept right on talking. So instead, the Chosen slides his eyes frm the flickering firelight again to regard Watersong.
Watersong looks to Savith and waits for him to reply to her question, "Is that a no?"
"A no about what," he asks in reply. His head tilts faintly in question, like a bird looking at something sideways might.
Watersong giggles, "About having a child silly? Or is it just you all alone at the Blue Mountain."
Savith ohs softly, licking his lips before replying. "I have four, actually." And they all say that the mountain is stagnant! HA!
Watersong oh mys, "Four. Oh I can't imagine that. One was a handful enough. I certainly hope they were spaced out."
Savith's head rocks side to side. "You could say they were," he murmurs, turning his eyes back to the flames. His eyes narrow faintly as the conversation brings to mind a few things, and he stops to think them through.
Watersong ahs, "I'd imagine so. So how long are you going to be here? Is it a long visit like that of your watershaper?"
The voice once again draws Savith from his reverie, and the Chosen turns his gaze back to Watersong. "My stay will be as long as it must be in order to deliever my message and recieve a reply. No more, no less." He pauses than, as if selecting the right words to say. "No," he replies finally.
Watersong looks wistful and put a finger to her lip to tap it gently, "Too bad. That large bird of yours is certainly useful for catching manyteeth. Or so I have heard the hunters talk about it."
Savith nods, an almost smirk playing across his features. "That she is. I do plan on huntnig a little later, or at least scouting the waters for any small manyfang we can collect. I dislike being aburden to tribes I visit."
Watersong waves her hand at him, "Oh pasha, you are not a burden on the tribe. It's an honor to have you here."
That recieves a snort from his nose and a nearly full-fledged smirk, all while his eyes return to the flames. "Not all share your pinion, and so I tread lightly." As Ordered.
Watersong shrugs, "I never cared what other's thought as long as I'm here I'll make you feel welcome."
Savith dips his head at Watersong as he replies, "Very nice of you, thank you." Then his eyes return to the flames.
Watersong smiles, "You're welcome. I don't mind, if you need anything just ask." She looks at the flames and holds out her hands to warm them up before she rubs her arms.
Savith nods to the offer. The night is pleasant for him. Then again, he's in a gull glight suit, and so, when he spots Waterson gtrying to warm herself, he eyes an extra blanket he brought. "If you're cold," he begins. "I have an extra blanket you can borrow for now."
Watersong smiles, "Why thank you." She moves over to him to get the extra blanket and she wraps it around herself before sitting back down. Watersong looks up, "It's a beautiful night out."
As Watersong agrees to the blanket, Savith's mind reaches for it, and brings it to her, meeting her halfway. Once she's settled witht he balnket, he removes his mental hold over it, eyes returning ot the flames. "Hmm, yes, it is," he replies, somewhat distractly.
Watersong looks back at Savith, "Is something wrong Savith? Did your reunion with your daughter not go as you thought it would?"
Oh! That brings Savith to the present. The CHosen stiffens, and turns cold green eyes upon Watersong. "What makes you think it was my daughter," he asks, lifting a brow. "We gliders must all look a like to you, hmm."
Offshore, there's an elf capering in the nighttime water as if it's midday, chasing the ripples of moonlight and starshine across the water without much purpose beyond simple movement.
Watersong wells, "The way you two were carrying on it certainly seemed like it. I could be wrong, I've been wrong before." The noice of the capering distracts her, "Who's out there?"
Savith hmms softly, not replying. At Watersong's question, Savith turns and looks out to sea, eyes narrowing.
After a few momoments more frolicking, the elf in question seems to notice the audience and the fire and waves. **Gentle currents!** Definitely Sandspur. He dives again, but surfaces -- eyes and nose only -- not far from the shore, looking curious.
Watersong smiles, ** Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing? ** She looks to Savith, "It's just Sandspur."
Ah. Sandspur. Savith eyes the happy-go-lucky elf, eyes curious as well, as he sends his reply. **Clear skies.** Sittign by the fire, they are, and Watersong wrapped in one of Savith's blankets.
**Just swimming. There's a baby boatback out there.** The Raft tribe's resident bit of flotsam bobs in the waves a few moments more, then wades up onto the beach, wringing out his hair and shivering just a little in the night air before he hunkers next to the fire. He tilts his head at Savith. **Have you talked to the chief yet?**
Watersong opens the blanket for Sandspur, "Care to join me? You wouldn't want to freeze. I'm sure Savith wouldn't mind if his blanket got a little wet. I'll hang it out to dry for him if he does."
Savith watches Sandspur makes his way toward teh firesie, shaking his head as the other elf draws near and asks about the chief."I admit that I hav enot, but I have been here but little, and so can wait longer." At Watersong's offer to Sandspur of his blanket, he blinks once. Emotions hard to read ont he Chosen, he replies in a flat even tone, "As you like."
Sandspur blinks and glances from side to side. Finally, he shrugs and shakes his head, simply stretching out full-length by the fire. **I'll dry instead. Then you can salt me and put me in the storage dens as well,** he open-sends, teasing. He plunks his chin down on his palm and regards Savith with grey eyes gone amber in the firelight. **Do you like it here? Do you think you'll stay?** There's an odd undercurrent to that open sending -- or perhaps just odd because foam-headed Sandspur rarely has an undercurrent of anything going through his mind. All his emotions tend to rise to the surface.
Watersong chuckles a little bit as she rewraps herself, "Promises, promises." She turns to listen to Savith's responce as she stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes near the fire.
Savith returns Sandspur's scurtiny firmly, with an unworried look. "I must say no," he replies. "I have my Orders,and once fullfilled, I must take my leave."
Though he makes no send, the look of disappointment on Sandspur's face gives away his opinion on that course of action. He switches to speech. "But it's such a long journey. Doesn't your bird have to rest some more?"
Watersong shushes Sandspur, "Chosen Savith has very many important things to do. His bondbird is very strong and I'm sure she is rested enough even if he had to leave at a moment's notice."
Sandspur looks puzzled. "'Chosen'?"
The disappointment from Sandspur makes Savith nearly chuckle. The expression ends up a smirk on his features, as he shakes his head softly. "Rest or not, My Lord's WIll is my own," he replies. He pauses as Watersong seems to chides Sandspur, and a brow quirks as he wonders just what Watersong knows about gliders and their bondbirds. After all, he made no mention as to what his hawk was called, at least, not to her. Sandspur's question recieves a nod. "Yes. I am Chosen of Blue Mountain, Chosen out of the rest to Protect, Provide, and Serve."
Watersong has been asking around about the glider Savith from other Rafters. She smiles as she listens to Savith explain what the Chosen do. "See it's very important."
Sandspur sighs pitiously. Even his sharp eartips seem to droop. "Will we get to hunt again before you leave?" he asks, his voice wistful.
Asking about, huh? Well, if she had been asking about, it's a miracle her view of him is as bright and pleasant as it is. Granted, he's been polite the last view times he was here, but still. There are too many in this holt that know of the horrorific things a Chosen can do that can spread rumors about him and his baby-snatching ways. Savith flicks a glance at Watersong, before replying to Sandspur, "Most certainly. I was planning a hunt during the day, for a manyfang to provde the tribe with." Like he said earlier, he does so hate to be a burden.
Watersong chose only to believe the good stuff she heard about him, putting the other stuff to misunderstanding and overactive imaginaitons. She smiles at Sandspur, "Maybe if you ask nicely Savith will take you with him."
Sandspur brightens slightly. He was hoping that they could hunt redbelly again, or something that would take just the two of them, but it was better than nothing. "You'll wake me, won't you?"
Good stuff? Like what? The brawl with Shadows where he tore up the wolfrider? The time he flew away with the nweborn Amber? Or what about the constant tailing of the glider refugee Larias? Or the time he nearly skewered an expectant mother with a spear while she was about to drop her child? So many 'good' things to say about Savith. Really, pray tell what good things were said about hte Chosen? After all, he's just playing with Amber and being nice to her when he visists so later he can steal her away and make her thing it was her choice. He nods to Sandspur, "I shall, if you are within send's reach, but I do not think you should join me on a hunt for manyfang. It is a dangerous hunt, to say the least." And Winnowill would BEAT him if he screwed up Raft relations. "If that hunt turns up nothing, I would be willing to hunt redbelly with you again, however."
Well how good a hunter of manyfang he is for one and there is other good stuff to be said about Savith, Watersong just can't remember it right now, not that she ever let that bother her. She nods approvingly and keeps quiet for once as the subject is about hunting something she doesn't know much about.
Sandspur actually sulks a little. "I've hunted manytooth before. Are you planning to fly out and take one on your own?" His eyes light suddenly, sparking excitement, and he leans towards Savith so far he almost unbalances. "Are you hunting from birdback?"
As Watersong stays quiet, Savith focuses upon Sandspur, the excited youth getting a smirk. "I am, indeed," he replies. "To both, hunting manyfang alone, and hunting from birdback. It is the way way to bring in the catch."
Sandspur all but has his chin on Savith's knee at this point. "You know, I don't weigh all that much and Watersong *did* say your bird is strong..."
Savith eyes Sandspur as he practically puts his chin on his knee. But the Chosen refrains from pulling back, or making any sort of motions. Rather, Savith just regard him and replies, "It is not your weight the concerns me, but rather your safety. I would have to divide my attention between you and the hunt. Something that could get us both killed."
Watersong continues to listen attentively to the two males talk about hunting manyteeth. She yawns a little and covers her mouth with her hands before she snuggles down into the blanket that Savith has lent her.
Sandspur sighs and wishes he was better at this cajoling business, but this is as good as he gets at clever speaking. "What? I would fall off into the water at worst."
"And into the mouth of the manyfang, at best," Savith replies, shaking his head. "It is a risk I can not take. I will not hunt manyfang with you astride my bird." Of course, that says nothing about just flying about on the bird's back...
Watersong looks to Sandspur, "You're hide doesn't need any more scars on it Sandspur."
Sandspur blinks and looks down at his scarred chest. Oh yes, those. Well, it is true that he doesn't have that much hide left, but still...flying! With Savith! On the bird! Waaah! All the same, he heroically refrains from kicking the sand and going into a full-on pout. "Oh, very well. I'm not going to hope you come back empty-handed, Savith. And I'd still like to know when you leave."
Savith nods, and is rather glad Sadspur didn't ask for a joy ride. His orders to be polite might have forced him to say yes. There's little danger in it, after all.. At least, none for Sandspur. Saviht, on the other hand, would have immediately been assumed to be flying away with Sandspur... Okay, so Savith would have said no anyway, but STILL! He'd have thought about it, and it's the thought that counts, right? "I'll send for you, or you can listen for my whislte. It's loud enough to be heard clearly for quite a distance."
Watersong smiles and nods, "I hope you have a good hunt Savith and come back with as big a manyfang that your bird can carry." She looks up, "Still it would be nice to ride up in the cloud. Not that I would want to Savith. It would be nice, but I would perfer to keep my feet on the ground."
Sandspur rests his head on folded arms and sighs deeply enough to stir his salt-and-water weighted hair off of his eye. "It must be exciting to fly, though, Watersong. And imagine how much of the world you could see from that height! It took me days and days to reach my island, but I'll be Savith could be there in an eight of hours."
Savith grins smirks, and turns his gaze back to the fire. Finally! His face shows some emotion. And that emotion is pride. Yeah. Flying is da bomb. He won't trade it for anything in the... okay, maybe ONE thing, but let's not go there. Not a pleasant place to be. INstead, Savith sits smugly, watching the fire eat at the logs.
Watersong shrugs, "Maybe so, but I like looking at the world from under the water. The sky is only blue because the water is blue."
Sandspur tilts his head to one side. "What?"
Savith's brows lift faintly a she sits silently and listens to the conversation. But his thoughts stray, and he finds himself cold despite teh flames, and so, a frown forms. He should go back to his bird's nest, and force himself to rest. Especially if he's going to be hunting tomorrow.
Watersong looks over at Sandspur, "I like looking up at the world, not down at it."
Sandspur still doesn't think it makes sense, but nods. "Savith...are you all right?"
Savith hmms, and looks over at Sandspur. He asks the question honestly to himself first, taking note of what's going on. No, he's not fine. How much will that new hatchling change while he's away? It's heartbreaking, despite the fearful thrill that meeting Firestorm was.But to Sandspur he nods, averting his eyes as he out rights lies, "I'm fine. I think I'll retire to my nest now, in preparation for my hunt in the morning." Oh, but standing is a good excuse to avert ones eyes, and so, he stands.
Sandspur sits up. "All right...sleep well." He grins. "Don't forget me!"
Watersong yawns and stands up, "I think I'll go back to the rafts as well." She unwraps and carefully folds the blanket, "Thank you for the use of your blanket Savith." Watersong holds it out to him.
Savith takes the blanket, with his HAND this time!, and nods. "Sleep well," he murmurs to Watersong, eyes cast down to hide the troubled glint to their hue. His mind collects the rest of the bedding he brought down to the beach, haivng thought to nap out here, by the lapping waves. "A difficult thing to do, I assure you, Sandspur," Savith replies, lifting himself from the ground as he collects all hs blankets.
Sandspur watches him go, then settles by the fire again. "You go ahead, Watersong. I'm not tired."
Savith flies to the cliff without another word, mind, body, and soul aching for his lifemate, and the feel of their two hatchlings in his arms. Seeing Firestorm today made him realize just how alone he is when out on a mission. Shivering with a sudden chill as he drops to a landing, he coos at WInddance, pats her gently and covers himself, half sitting half laying aginst his hawk. 'Larias... I hope you're dreaming well,' he thinks to himself, hoping she can hear him, as he closes his eyes and focres his body to rest.
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
Dawn has come, bringing with it the bright array of colors to light up the horizon.
Watersong comes down onto the campsite to see if the guest of the tribe has returned. She's wet from the Waterfall, but is air drying. It's rather late at night as she sashays down from the forest in her bare feet.
After the flight with Firestorm, Savith has sent her off to rest while he stayed awake, unable to sleep. Finding Winddance's perch cold and unyielding, the Chosen opted for the fireside. His eyes upon the flames, the CHosen seems lost in thought.
Watersong smiles, "Calm tides Chosen. How are you doing tonight?" She comes up opposite of him so he can see her by the fire light, "Might I join you?"
Green eyes blink a few times as Savith pulls his gaze from the flames. His gaze settles upon the friendly Watersong. "I am well," he replies, a light shrug and a shake of his head his only answer to her question about her joining him.
Watersong smiles as she sits down by the fire, "How was the manyteeth steak? Did you enjoy it?" She asks as she folds her hands on her legs as she is sitting with her legs folded under her demurely.
"It was most filling," the Chosen replies, eyes upon Watersong as she sits by the fire. "Thank you again for bringing it. I was most thoughtful."
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I can make another one for you while you stay here. I don't mind. I enjoy cooking, almost as much as I enjoy making music." Watersong's eyes light up as she talks about music. "So besiding doing your Lord's bidding what do you like to do?"
Savith quirks a brow at the question. "My Lord's Will," he replies. His voice is flat in tone, though his eyes remain attentive and curious. The offer of cooking recieves no comment. Merely, it is just filed away for later.
Watersong ohs, "So that's all you do? It must be boring, but each to their own. I couldn't do that all day. I'm always singing or humming, even if it's not out loud."
Savith just nods. For a heartbeat he waits, not giving a reply to Watersong's comment about how boring it must be. With nothing more to say, he turns back to the fire.
Watersong continues to chatter on, not minding Savith's silence, just gives her more chance to talk, "Do you have any family? Or squirts? That's children if you didn't know. I have one, but he's with is father in the plains." She sighs wistfully, "I miss him sometimes, but they were happy in the plains and I am happy at the ocean."
Savith would have replied, but Watersong just kept right on talking. So instead, the Chosen slides his eyes frm the flickering firelight again to regard Watersong.
Watersong looks to Savith and waits for him to reply to her question, "Is that a no?"
"A no about what," he asks in reply. His head tilts faintly in question, like a bird looking at something sideways might.
Watersong giggles, "About having a child silly? Or is it just you all alone at the Blue Mountain."
Savith ohs softly, licking his lips before replying. "I have four, actually." And they all say that the mountain is stagnant! HA!
Watersong oh mys, "Four. Oh I can't imagine that. One was a handful enough. I certainly hope they were spaced out."
Savith's head rocks side to side. "You could say they were," he murmurs, turning his eyes back to the flames. His eyes narrow faintly as the conversation brings to mind a few things, and he stops to think them through.
Watersong ahs, "I'd imagine so. So how long are you going to be here? Is it a long visit like that of your watershaper?"
The voice once again draws Savith from his reverie, and the Chosen turns his gaze back to Watersong. "My stay will be as long as it must be in order to deliever my message and recieve a reply. No more, no less." He pauses than, as if selecting the right words to say. "No," he replies finally.
Watersong looks wistful and put a finger to her lip to tap it gently, "Too bad. That large bird of yours is certainly useful for catching manyteeth. Or so I have heard the hunters talk about it."
Savith nods, an almost smirk playing across his features. "That she is. I do plan on huntnig a little later, or at least scouting the waters for any small manyfang we can collect. I dislike being aburden to tribes I visit."
Watersong waves her hand at him, "Oh pasha, you are not a burden on the tribe. It's an honor to have you here."
That recieves a snort from his nose and a nearly full-fledged smirk, all while his eyes return to the flames. "Not all share your pinion, and so I tread lightly." As Ordered.
Watersong shrugs, "I never cared what other's thought as long as I'm here I'll make you feel welcome."
Savith dips his head at Watersong as he replies, "Very nice of you, thank you." Then his eyes return to the flames.
Watersong smiles, "You're welcome. I don't mind, if you need anything just ask." She looks at the flames and holds out her hands to warm them up before she rubs her arms.
Savith nods to the offer. The night is pleasant for him. Then again, he's in a gull glight suit, and so, when he spots Waterson gtrying to warm herself, he eyes an extra blanket he brought. "If you're cold," he begins. "I have an extra blanket you can borrow for now."
Watersong smiles, "Why thank you." She moves over to him to get the extra blanket and she wraps it around herself before sitting back down. Watersong looks up, "It's a beautiful night out."
As Watersong agrees to the blanket, Savith's mind reaches for it, and brings it to her, meeting her halfway. Once she's settled witht he balnket, he removes his mental hold over it, eyes returning ot the flames. "Hmm, yes, it is," he replies, somewhat distractly.
Watersong looks back at Savith, "Is something wrong Savith? Did your reunion with your daughter not go as you thought it would?"
Oh! That brings Savith to the present. The CHosen stiffens, and turns cold green eyes upon Watersong. "What makes you think it was my daughter," he asks, lifting a brow. "We gliders must all look a like to you, hmm."
Offshore, there's an elf capering in the nighttime water as if it's midday, chasing the ripples of moonlight and starshine across the water without much purpose beyond simple movement.
Watersong wells, "The way you two were carrying on it certainly seemed like it. I could be wrong, I've been wrong before." The noice of the capering distracts her, "Who's out there?"
Savith hmms softly, not replying. At Watersong's question, Savith turns and looks out to sea, eyes narrowing.
After a few momoments more frolicking, the elf in question seems to notice the audience and the fire and waves. **Gentle currents!** Definitely Sandspur. He dives again, but surfaces -- eyes and nose only -- not far from the shore, looking curious.
Watersong smiles, ** Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing? ** She looks to Savith, "It's just Sandspur."
Ah. Sandspur. Savith eyes the happy-go-lucky elf, eyes curious as well, as he sends his reply. **Clear skies.** Sittign by the fire, they are, and Watersong wrapped in one of Savith's blankets.
**Just swimming. There's a baby boatback out there.** The Raft tribe's resident bit of flotsam bobs in the waves a few moments more, then wades up onto the beach, wringing out his hair and shivering just a little in the night air before he hunkers next to the fire. He tilts his head at Savith. **Have you talked to the chief yet?**
Watersong opens the blanket for Sandspur, "Care to join me? You wouldn't want to freeze. I'm sure Savith wouldn't mind if his blanket got a little wet. I'll hang it out to dry for him if he does."
Savith watches Sandspur makes his way toward teh firesie, shaking his head as the other elf draws near and asks about the chief."I admit that I hav enot, but I have been here but little, and so can wait longer." At Watersong's offer to Sandspur of his blanket, he blinks once. Emotions hard to read ont he Chosen, he replies in a flat even tone, "As you like."
Sandspur blinks and glances from side to side. Finally, he shrugs and shakes his head, simply stretching out full-length by the fire. **I'll dry instead. Then you can salt me and put me in the storage dens as well,** he open-sends, teasing. He plunks his chin down on his palm and regards Savith with grey eyes gone amber in the firelight. **Do you like it here? Do you think you'll stay?** There's an odd undercurrent to that open sending -- or perhaps just odd because foam-headed Sandspur rarely has an undercurrent of anything going through his mind. All his emotions tend to rise to the surface.
Watersong chuckles a little bit as she rewraps herself, "Promises, promises." She turns to listen to Savith's responce as she stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes near the fire.
Savith returns Sandspur's scurtiny firmly, with an unworried look. "I must say no," he replies. "I have my Orders,and once fullfilled, I must take my leave."
Though he makes no send, the look of disappointment on Sandspur's face gives away his opinion on that course of action. He switches to speech. "But it's such a long journey. Doesn't your bird have to rest some more?"
Watersong shushes Sandspur, "Chosen Savith has very many important things to do. His bondbird is very strong and I'm sure she is rested enough even if he had to leave at a moment's notice."
Sandspur looks puzzled. "'Chosen'?"
The disappointment from Sandspur makes Savith nearly chuckle. The expression ends up a smirk on his features, as he shakes his head softly. "Rest or not, My Lord's WIll is my own," he replies. He pauses as Watersong seems to chides Sandspur, and a brow quirks as he wonders just what Watersong knows about gliders and their bondbirds. After all, he made no mention as to what his hawk was called, at least, not to her. Sandspur's question recieves a nod. "Yes. I am Chosen of Blue Mountain, Chosen out of the rest to Protect, Provide, and Serve."
Watersong has been asking around about the glider Savith from other Rafters. She smiles as she listens to Savith explain what the Chosen do. "See it's very important."
Sandspur sighs pitiously. Even his sharp eartips seem to droop. "Will we get to hunt again before you leave?" he asks, his voice wistful.
Asking about, huh? Well, if she had been asking about, it's a miracle her view of him is as bright and pleasant as it is. Granted, he's been polite the last view times he was here, but still. There are too many in this holt that know of the horrorific things a Chosen can do that can spread rumors about him and his baby-snatching ways. Savith flicks a glance at Watersong, before replying to Sandspur, "Most certainly. I was planning a hunt during the day, for a manyfang to provde the tribe with." Like he said earlier, he does so hate to be a burden.
Watersong chose only to believe the good stuff she heard about him, putting the other stuff to misunderstanding and overactive imaginaitons. She smiles at Sandspur, "Maybe if you ask nicely Savith will take you with him."
Sandspur brightens slightly. He was hoping that they could hunt redbelly again, or something that would take just the two of them, but it was better than nothing. "You'll wake me, won't you?"
Good stuff? Like what? The brawl with Shadows where he tore up the wolfrider? The time he flew away with the nweborn Amber? Or what about the constant tailing of the glider refugee Larias? Or the time he nearly skewered an expectant mother with a spear while she was about to drop her child? So many 'good' things to say about Savith. Really, pray tell what good things were said about hte Chosen? After all, he's just playing with Amber and being nice to her when he visists so later he can steal her away and make her thing it was her choice. He nods to Sandspur, "I shall, if you are within send's reach, but I do not think you should join me on a hunt for manyfang. It is a dangerous hunt, to say the least." And Winnowill would BEAT him if he screwed up Raft relations. "If that hunt turns up nothing, I would be willing to hunt redbelly with you again, however."
Well how good a hunter of manyfang he is for one and there is other good stuff to be said about Savith, Watersong just can't remember it right now, not that she ever let that bother her. She nods approvingly and keeps quiet for once as the subject is about hunting something she doesn't know much about.
Sandspur actually sulks a little. "I've hunted manytooth before. Are you planning to fly out and take one on your own?" His eyes light suddenly, sparking excitement, and he leans towards Savith so far he almost unbalances. "Are you hunting from birdback?"
As Watersong stays quiet, Savith focuses upon Sandspur, the excited youth getting a smirk. "I am, indeed," he replies. "To both, hunting manyfang alone, and hunting from birdback. It is the way way to bring in the catch."
Sandspur all but has his chin on Savith's knee at this point. "You know, I don't weigh all that much and Watersong *did* say your bird is strong..."
Savith eyes Sandspur as he practically puts his chin on his knee. But the Chosen refrains from pulling back, or making any sort of motions. Rather, Savith just regard him and replies, "It is not your weight the concerns me, but rather your safety. I would have to divide my attention between you and the hunt. Something that could get us both killed."
Watersong continues to listen attentively to the two males talk about hunting manyteeth. She yawns a little and covers her mouth with her hands before she snuggles down into the blanket that Savith has lent her.
Sandspur sighs and wishes he was better at this cajoling business, but this is as good as he gets at clever speaking. "What? I would fall off into the water at worst."
"And into the mouth of the manyfang, at best," Savith replies, shaking his head. "It is a risk I can not take. I will not hunt manyfang with you astride my bird." Of course, that says nothing about just flying about on the bird's back...
Watersong looks to Sandspur, "You're hide doesn't need any more scars on it Sandspur."
Sandspur blinks and looks down at his scarred chest. Oh yes, those. Well, it is true that he doesn't have that much hide left, but still...flying! With Savith! On the bird! Waaah! All the same, he heroically refrains from kicking the sand and going into a full-on pout. "Oh, very well. I'm not going to hope you come back empty-handed, Savith. And I'd still like to know when you leave."
Savith nods, and is rather glad Sadspur didn't ask for a joy ride. His orders to be polite might have forced him to say yes. There's little danger in it, after all.. At least, none for Sandspur. Saviht, on the other hand, would have immediately been assumed to be flying away with Sandspur... Okay, so Savith would have said no anyway, but STILL! He'd have thought about it, and it's the thought that counts, right? "I'll send for you, or you can listen for my whislte. It's loud enough to be heard clearly for quite a distance."
Watersong smiles and nods, "I hope you have a good hunt Savith and come back with as big a manyfang that your bird can carry." She looks up, "Still it would be nice to ride up in the cloud. Not that I would want to Savith. It would be nice, but I would perfer to keep my feet on the ground."
Sandspur rests his head on folded arms and sighs deeply enough to stir his salt-and-water weighted hair off of his eye. "It must be exciting to fly, though, Watersong. And imagine how much of the world you could see from that height! It took me days and days to reach my island, but I'll be Savith could be there in an eight of hours."
Savith grins smirks, and turns his gaze back to the fire. Finally! His face shows some emotion. And that emotion is pride. Yeah. Flying is da bomb. He won't trade it for anything in the... okay, maybe ONE thing, but let's not go there. Not a pleasant place to be. INstead, Savith sits smugly, watching the fire eat at the logs.
Watersong shrugs, "Maybe so, but I like looking at the world from under the water. The sky is only blue because the water is blue."
Sandspur tilts his head to one side. "What?"
Savith's brows lift faintly a she sits silently and listens to the conversation. But his thoughts stray, and he finds himself cold despite teh flames, and so, a frown forms. He should go back to his bird's nest, and force himself to rest. Especially if he's going to be hunting tomorrow.
Watersong looks over at Sandspur, "I like looking up at the world, not down at it."
Sandspur still doesn't think it makes sense, but nods. "Savith...are you all right?"
Savith hmms, and looks over at Sandspur. He asks the question honestly to himself first, taking note of what's going on. No, he's not fine. How much will that new hatchling change while he's away? It's heartbreaking, despite the fearful thrill that meeting Firestorm was.But to Sandspur he nods, averting his eyes as he out rights lies, "I'm fine. I think I'll retire to my nest now, in preparation for my hunt in the morning." Oh, but standing is a good excuse to avert ones eyes, and so, he stands.
Sandspur sits up. "All right...sleep well." He grins. "Don't forget me!"
Watersong yawns and stands up, "I think I'll go back to the rafts as well." She unwraps and carefully folds the blanket, "Thank you for the use of your blanket Savith." Watersong holds it out to him.
Savith takes the blanket, with his HAND this time!, and nods. "Sleep well," he murmurs to Watersong, eyes cast down to hide the troubled glint to their hue. His mind collects the rest of the bedding he brought down to the beach, haivng thought to nap out here, by the lapping waves. "A difficult thing to do, I assure you, Sandspur," Savith replies, lifting himself from the ground as he collects all hs blankets.
Sandspur watches him go, then settles by the fire again. "You go ahead, Watersong. I'm not tired."
Savith flies to the cliff without another word, mind, body, and soul aching for his lifemate, and the feel of their two hatchlings in his arms. Seeing Firestorm today made him realize just how alone he is when out on a mission. Shivering with a sudden chill as he drops to a landing, he coos at WInddance, pats her gently and covers himself, half sitting half laying aginst his hawk. 'Larias... I hope you're dreaming well,' he thinks to himself, hoping she can hear him, as he closes his eyes and focres his body to rest.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Long Lost Daughter
WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
It is the dark of night, with little more than the two moons and a sparkling of star to light the way for one and all.
As the midday sun moves toward the western horizon, a Raft's visitor can be found returning from the waterfall side pool, where he cleaned off travel grime. That done, and in a clean uniform, Savith floats down from his bond bird's perch on the cliffs above. Last time Savith was here for a visit, Amber was born. Since then, the CHosen has stopped by twice, mostly for a hunting trip. Each time, he's managed to spend a few hours with the cubling, intent on whatever game she is playing at the time. It's dinner time, and not yet having completed his business here, Savith considers whistling for his bond, WInddance, and heading out over the ocean in search of a small manyfang to bring in for himself and the tribe. Peace offerings are always a good thing.
Watersong comes walking up to the campfire, her hips swaying back and forth. She has a plate of cooked meat and a waterskin. She smiles at the visitor as she sees him, "Calm tides, I thought you might be hungery, I brought you some manyteeth steaks."
Streak's steps are light as the elf darts up the beach, little puffs of sand rising with each footfall; her steps slow abruptly as she catches sight of the visitor and Watersong's approach. A few tentative steps bring her over towards the pair, her sending curious as she wonders, ** You are... Savith? **
Savith never expected such a welcome, and it causes the Chosen to blink a few times, then clear his throat. "I am, actually," he replies to Watersong. "I was going to go hunt, but it seems the kill has been brought to me." And cooked, his eyes notice. He almost grins. At the touch of his name, his face and eyes trns to Streak, as the CHosen nods. "I am."
Watersong smiles as she sashays over to Savith and holds out the plate for him. "Well here you go. You are a visitor after all. I also have a skin of wine if you'd like some. I have a cup and untencils as well for you." She looks over at Streak and smiles at her before turning back to Savith.
Streak's lip quirks wryly as she watches Watersong undulate over to the Glider, clasping her own hands behind her back as she studies him with unashamed eyes, lingering on the sheer height of the flier. ** Be welcome, then, as Watersong has offered... I'm Streak. **
From the tree line drifts a form that has become a somewhat normal sight for those of the tribe, the tall redhead known as Firestorm who has at last regained her full strength. Having been restored her weapons and given free run of beach and forest the half-breed has made many efforts to avoid those of the tribe and stay hidden, or at least alone. It's no secret she doesn't like many others, though she's often in the Chief's company these days. She returns now with a string of fish, spear in hand as always.
Savith lifts his hands for the plate, taking it from Watersong with a gentle nod. "Thank you," he says, "Utensils would be useful." He nods to Streak, and moves to find a seat to sit so he can eat. Firesong enters from behind him, and so Savith doesn't notice her yet.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready.
A crease in her brow that settles as her eyes resolve the flicker of movement into Firestorm's entrance, and Streak's mouth tightens almost imperceptibly, tension edging into her limbs. ** I'll let Watersong tend to you--I must go, but I will carry news of your arrival to the others. ** She steps back gracefully, a smooth turn, then her light steps resume to carry her swiftly down the beach and into the sea.
Sandspur has connected.
Savith sends out to Strek quickly, **Your chief, Streak. I must speak with your chief, as soon as possible.** All else is forgotten as he sends.
Streak makes no reply to Savith's send save a wordless assent, her sleek form already diving into the waves.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready. (re)
Message delievered, Savith settles back. Nothing left to do but wait. Turning his attention to the meal, Savith pulls out the small knife from his boot to eat with, cutting a bitesized piece and taking a taste. The wine, he glances at, and the cup is pulled from Watersong's hand... by nothing.
Watersong lets go of the cup as soon as she feels the invisible tugging on it. "If you need anything else, just ask Chosen." She smiles as she goes to find a seat, "So what brings you to Raft?"
Savith eyes Watersong a moment, before continuing to eat, sending so he doesn't have to break the movements. **I come at the Order of My Lord to speak with your Chief, as soon as is possible,** he sends. The wine cup is brought to his knee, and held there.
Sandspur climbs out of the surf, smiling broadly as ever. He pauses on the sand, regarding the gathered elves. A string of fresh-caught redbellies dangles over his shoulder. **Well, I'm back,** he open sends. He tilts his head to one side. Firestorm he remembers in passing, but Watersong seems new to him. **Greetings, Savith!**
Watersong looks over at Sandspur and waves to him, "Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing?" SHe looks back to Savith and ohs, "I see secret chief type stuff."
** What do you want with my Chief? ** comes a defensive, almost posessive send from Firestorm. She eyes the back of the red head, only barely listening in to the conversation, completely missing reference to 'my Lord' and what it could possibly mean, or even the word 'Chosen', though that is a familiar word.
The chatter, even the greeting, Savith seems to only partially acknowledge. It is the send, the defensive feel to it, that catches his attention. Caught mid-bite, Savith turns to look at Firestorm. His head tilts, and he replies. **I want nothing. I must speak with him.**
Sandspur's return send is bright with silent laughter. **I swim away for three seasons, and this is all the greeting I get? Ah, well. I am well enough, thanks to him.** The dripping swimmer drops down on the sand.
Watersong chuckles, "What did you expect? Someone to faint away?" She asks with a smile, "Come join us." She slides over and pats the seat next to her.
Sandspur scoots over to Watersong, wracking his brain trying to remember her. **Thanks.** He holds up his catch. **Redbelly?**
Watersong smiles at Sandspur as she is Splash's and Crest's youngest and cutest baby sister. "Sure, would you like me to cook it up for you."
Firestorm regards Savith for long moments, taking in every angle and stitch of clothing on him and to him, slowly floating back towards the trees, more a motion out of habbit then anything else given she's still holding a spear, and there's a knife tucked into the waistline of her breachs.
Sandspur shrugs. **I've eaten. I had some left and didn't know who else I'd meet.**
Watersong smiles, "Well I'll cook it up and put it in a storage den for later."
She floats. Savith finishes that one last bite, and sets the plate down, one hand collecting the winecup balanced on his knee while the other returns his eating knife to his boot. Ignoring the two raft holters for the moment, Savith glides to his feet. Every detail of Firestorm is taken into account, even.. that knife. **The blade... I wonder where you got it,** he asks, mind soft, almost silken, and yet the interest he shows, that undivided attention, makes it seem.. inky.
Sandspur nods, still smiling. **Have you seen what Savith can do? He went hunting with me...he's fantastic!**
Watersong looks over to Savith and nods, "Yes I've seen what he can do. Magic is very amazing."
Firestorm bares teeth that show slight points, though not nearly as vicious looking as a wolfriders, as she puts her back to a tree. Though her mental voice does not stutter her body language nearly hums with fear. ** I found it. ** For someone so frightened she does well to try and hide it behind her hawk like gaze.
The damp mop of blond hair sprays water droplets all about as Sandspur shakes his head. **Not just the magic! He practically yanked me out of a manytooth's jaws!** An excited, half-jumbled send shares an image of dangling above a shadow in the water.
Watersong holds up her hands to fend off the droplets of water from Sandspur, "Lucky for you. You wouldn't look good with bite out of you."
Sandspur laughs out loud and flops back onto the cool sand. **I don't have that much hide left to sacrifice to manytooths anyway.** He indicates the rough scars along his front. **And I'd prefer not to anyway.**
Faint points? Almost glider tall. Hawkish eyes. So like... Wildstorm.... **Where,** Savith asks, a tremmor beginning in the pit of his own stomch as thoughts race in his mind. 'How old is she? Where did she come from? She's a half-breed, that much is certain, but... Red hair..grey eyes... GREY? Was Clearlight's eyes grey?' High ones... Savith can't remember. A bit of his soul, and he can't remember!
Watersong giggles as Sandspur flops back and she looks down at him, "I'd say not." She winces and raises her hand up to her lips, "Where did you get those scars?"
Sandspur rolls lazily onto one side. His hide and clothing are thuroughly coated in sand, which sparkles in the moonslight. **Drowned a manytooth. Just a little one, though.**
Firestorm faces down Savith for a moment, confused by the questions he asks, she wasn't there, she had nothing to do with what took place. The grip on her spear eases up but her guard doesn't waver as she responds to his question. ** A forest, or what was one a forest till it was destroyed. ** She peers at him now. A glider. Red hair. His eyes though, they're not her's, and even her features are more angled and sharp. Could he be? So many questions unanswered after all these turns.
Watersong turns around to face Sandspur, "How do you drowned a manytooth?"
Sandspur blinks, surprised by the question. **Some of them have to keep swimming in order to breathe. If you grapple one and hold it still, it drowns. They put up a fight though...and they've got skin like sand!**
**The Forbidden Grove,** Savith remarks, eyes studying the half glideress. **I know the are well. It is among the things I must speak to your chieftain about.** 'How long has she been here? Does Ekana know? Fuck! Where /is/ Ekana?' Savith's eyes narrow. Her features are SO angular! Clearlight's must have been.
Short red hair sways. ** I never knew it's name. **, her mental voice responds, still watching Savith, but oddly feeling more relaxed. He does not seem as threatening for some reason anymore, and so she drops her tension as well, even coming forward a little. The two are so alike they could almost be siblings, or perhaps father and daughter. ** I have told my Chief as much of that as I already knew, but I am sure he will welcome any new information you may have for him. **
Savith nods slowly. Everything but the eyes. Grey vs green. Grey eyes just EAT at Savith's memory, but he can't put his finger on it. **You glide,** he comments. **Not many do. It speaks of your hertitage.** Let's see what this does. If it's her, she'll remember... hopefully. Wolfblood does WEIRD things to glider minds.
Watersong ahs a little and nods, "I'd fight too if someone was trying to drown me. I'm glad you haven't gotten hurt to badly. Have you ever tried to drown any of the bigger ones?"
Firestorm stiffens, either through pride of that warriness again. ** I know my hertitage to well, and not well enough. ** What is he hunting for from her, if he does not know, does that mean it's not him, or will her own father not even remember his hatchling.
Sandspur goes eyes-wide and shakes his head again. **I'd wind up a shredded rag on the sand! The little one was a one-time thing. I didn't have a choice.** Again, that wide smile. **Even I know taking on a manytooth with no weapon means red water.**
Watersong smiles back at him, "Unless you planned it right. You could put some rope around a manytooth's tail and tie it to a rock to get him to stop mocing. Hunting manyteeth is very dangerous."
Savith hmms softly, then lifts to the air. **I understand. Come then. When last I saw you, you were a pup, and unable to fly. Let's see what time has taught you, Storm.** It HAS to be her! It hasn't to be... If Ekana lived... why couldn't Wildstorm?
**But not all of them drown if they don't move, just certain kinds. Try that with bottom-feeders and you'll just have a mad manytooth on your hands.** Sandspur watches curiously as the two fliers break off their intense glaring and Savith rises into the sky, wondering what's up.
Firestorm blinks, surprised, but then it dawns on her, you can see it in her eyes. 'It /is/ him!' ** Firestorm... father. ** she corrects, gently, softly, touching only his mind alone, none others need to hear this exchange or know the truth as she lifts into the air to follow him, straining her talents.
Watersong nods, "Probably, I'm a better cook and musician then I am a hunter." She over at the gliders as they life up and leave, "I wonder what that was all about?"
The locksend makes Savith tilt his head... Fire..storm. Makes sense. Most wolfriders change names as they grow older. Father... It is her. It /is/ her. And a shiver runs through him. **Firestorm,** he corrects, then replies. **Once Souldancer, always Savith.** Likewise locked to his daughter's mind, Savith doesn't need to share this with the others. He reaches out a hand, much like he did when he left them in the woods, to die. She can follow now.
Sandspur shrugs, frowning. He feels just a bit hurt that Savith didn't even look his way, but he supposes the visitor has other concerns.
Firestorm takes her father's hand.... and a sense of closure is reached. At long last she has a name, and a face, and .. confussion. He does not seem so horrible as her mother made him out to be, no sneering, no cruelty, but it's him, he knows her, he remembers. ** Savith... may I call you... father. Please? ** she asks him in locksend, her soul yearning for that closeness that only one other would know, but then Firewater isn't here to protect the young elfess.
Watersong smiles at Sandspur, "Would you like to go swimming with me at the Waterfall?"
The shiver settles into a lump at his throat as Firestorm takes his hand. She's alive. All his horrific nightmares, all his guilt... relieved. SHe's alive, and she... she doesn't hate. What hint of warm glimmers into those green green eyes. A tiny tiny smile forms. In locksend, he replies, **Father... you may.** He can't held back the memory of that last time she called him that... when he herd her crying it at the top of her lungs as he left them in the forst.
Sandspur looks over to Watersong and nods, his sunny smile breaking out over his features again. Company is company, after all, and there are other kinds of magic.
Watersong smiles as she holds out a hand to help Sandspur up.
Sandspur lets the pretty one draw him to his feet. "You...were around when I was last here, weren't you? You remember me?"
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
It is the dark of night, with little more than the two moons and a sparkling of star to light the way for one and all.
As the midday sun moves toward the western horizon, a Raft's visitor can be found returning from the waterfall side pool, where he cleaned off travel grime. That done, and in a clean uniform, Savith floats down from his bond bird's perch on the cliffs above. Last time Savith was here for a visit, Amber was born. Since then, the CHosen has stopped by twice, mostly for a hunting trip. Each time, he's managed to spend a few hours with the cubling, intent on whatever game she is playing at the time. It's dinner time, and not yet having completed his business here, Savith considers whistling for his bond, WInddance, and heading out over the ocean in search of a small manyfang to bring in for himself and the tribe. Peace offerings are always a good thing.
Watersong comes walking up to the campfire, her hips swaying back and forth. She has a plate of cooked meat and a waterskin. She smiles at the visitor as she sees him, "Calm tides, I thought you might be hungery, I brought you some manyteeth steaks."
Streak's steps are light as the elf darts up the beach, little puffs of sand rising with each footfall; her steps slow abruptly as she catches sight of the visitor and Watersong's approach. A few tentative steps bring her over towards the pair, her sending curious as she wonders, ** You are... Savith? **
Savith never expected such a welcome, and it causes the Chosen to blink a few times, then clear his throat. "I am, actually," he replies to Watersong. "I was going to go hunt, but it seems the kill has been brought to me." And cooked, his eyes notice. He almost grins. At the touch of his name, his face and eyes trns to Streak, as the CHosen nods. "I am."
Watersong smiles as she sashays over to Savith and holds out the plate for him. "Well here you go. You are a visitor after all. I also have a skin of wine if you'd like some. I have a cup and untencils as well for you." She looks over at Streak and smiles at her before turning back to Savith.
Streak's lip quirks wryly as she watches Watersong undulate over to the Glider, clasping her own hands behind her back as she studies him with unashamed eyes, lingering on the sheer height of the flier. ** Be welcome, then, as Watersong has offered... I'm Streak. **
From the tree line drifts a form that has become a somewhat normal sight for those of the tribe, the tall redhead known as Firestorm who has at last regained her full strength. Having been restored her weapons and given free run of beach and forest the half-breed has made many efforts to avoid those of the tribe and stay hidden, or at least alone. It's no secret she doesn't like many others, though she's often in the Chief's company these days. She returns now with a string of fish, spear in hand as always.
Savith lifts his hands for the plate, taking it from Watersong with a gentle nod. "Thank you," he says, "Utensils would be useful." He nods to Streak, and moves to find a seat to sit so he can eat. Firesong enters from behind him, and so Savith doesn't notice her yet.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready.
A crease in her brow that settles as her eyes resolve the flicker of movement into Firestorm's entrance, and Streak's mouth tightens almost imperceptibly, tension edging into her limbs. ** I'll let Watersong tend to you--I must go, but I will carry news of your arrival to the others. ** She steps back gracefully, a smooth turn, then her light steps resume to carry her swiftly down the beach and into the sea.
Sandspur has connected.
Savith sends out to Strek quickly, **Your chief, Streak. I must speak with your chief, as soon as possible.** All else is forgotten as he sends.
Streak makes no reply to Savith's send save a wordless assent, her sleek form already diving into the waves.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready. (re)
Message delievered, Savith settles back. Nothing left to do but wait. Turning his attention to the meal, Savith pulls out the small knife from his boot to eat with, cutting a bitesized piece and taking a taste. The wine, he glances at, and the cup is pulled from Watersong's hand... by nothing.
Watersong lets go of the cup as soon as she feels the invisible tugging on it. "If you need anything else, just ask Chosen." She smiles as she goes to find a seat, "So what brings you to Raft?"
Savith eyes Watersong a moment, before continuing to eat, sending so he doesn't have to break the movements. **I come at the Order of My Lord to speak with your Chief, as soon as is possible,** he sends. The wine cup is brought to his knee, and held there.
Sandspur climbs out of the surf, smiling broadly as ever. He pauses on the sand, regarding the gathered elves. A string of fresh-caught redbellies dangles over his shoulder. **Well, I'm back,** he open sends. He tilts his head to one side. Firestorm he remembers in passing, but Watersong seems new to him. **Greetings, Savith!**
Watersong looks over at Sandspur and waves to him, "Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing?" SHe looks back to Savith and ohs, "I see secret chief type stuff."
** What do you want with my Chief? ** comes a defensive, almost posessive send from Firestorm. She eyes the back of the red head, only barely listening in to the conversation, completely missing reference to 'my Lord' and what it could possibly mean, or even the word 'Chosen', though that is a familiar word.
The chatter, even the greeting, Savith seems to only partially acknowledge. It is the send, the defensive feel to it, that catches his attention. Caught mid-bite, Savith turns to look at Firestorm. His head tilts, and he replies. **I want nothing. I must speak with him.**
Sandspur's return send is bright with silent laughter. **I swim away for three seasons, and this is all the greeting I get? Ah, well. I am well enough, thanks to him.** The dripping swimmer drops down on the sand.
Watersong chuckles, "What did you expect? Someone to faint away?" She asks with a smile, "Come join us." She slides over and pats the seat next to her.
Sandspur scoots over to Watersong, wracking his brain trying to remember her. **Thanks.** He holds up his catch. **Redbelly?**
Watersong smiles at Sandspur as she is Splash's and Crest's youngest and cutest baby sister. "Sure, would you like me to cook it up for you."
Firestorm regards Savith for long moments, taking in every angle and stitch of clothing on him and to him, slowly floating back towards the trees, more a motion out of habbit then anything else given she's still holding a spear, and there's a knife tucked into the waistline of her breachs.
Sandspur shrugs. **I've eaten. I had some left and didn't know who else I'd meet.**
Watersong smiles, "Well I'll cook it up and put it in a storage den for later."
She floats. Savith finishes that one last bite, and sets the plate down, one hand collecting the winecup balanced on his knee while the other returns his eating knife to his boot. Ignoring the two raft holters for the moment, Savith glides to his feet. Every detail of Firestorm is taken into account, even.. that knife. **The blade... I wonder where you got it,** he asks, mind soft, almost silken, and yet the interest he shows, that undivided attention, makes it seem.. inky.
Sandspur nods, still smiling. **Have you seen what Savith can do? He went hunting with me...he's fantastic!**
Watersong looks over to Savith and nods, "Yes I've seen what he can do. Magic is very amazing."
Firestorm bares teeth that show slight points, though not nearly as vicious looking as a wolfriders, as she puts her back to a tree. Though her mental voice does not stutter her body language nearly hums with fear. ** I found it. ** For someone so frightened she does well to try and hide it behind her hawk like gaze.
The damp mop of blond hair sprays water droplets all about as Sandspur shakes his head. **Not just the magic! He practically yanked me out of a manytooth's jaws!** An excited, half-jumbled send shares an image of dangling above a shadow in the water.
Watersong holds up her hands to fend off the droplets of water from Sandspur, "Lucky for you. You wouldn't look good with bite out of you."
Sandspur laughs out loud and flops back onto the cool sand. **I don't have that much hide left to sacrifice to manytooths anyway.** He indicates the rough scars along his front. **And I'd prefer not to anyway.**
Faint points? Almost glider tall. Hawkish eyes. So like... Wildstorm.... **Where,** Savith asks, a tremmor beginning in the pit of his own stomch as thoughts race in his mind. 'How old is she? Where did she come from? She's a half-breed, that much is certain, but... Red hair..grey eyes... GREY? Was Clearlight's eyes grey?' High ones... Savith can't remember. A bit of his soul, and he can't remember!
Watersong giggles as Sandspur flops back and she looks down at him, "I'd say not." She winces and raises her hand up to her lips, "Where did you get those scars?"
Sandspur rolls lazily onto one side. His hide and clothing are thuroughly coated in sand, which sparkles in the moonslight. **Drowned a manytooth. Just a little one, though.**
Firestorm faces down Savith for a moment, confused by the questions he asks, she wasn't there, she had nothing to do with what took place. The grip on her spear eases up but her guard doesn't waver as she responds to his question. ** A forest, or what was one a forest till it was destroyed. ** She peers at him now. A glider. Red hair. His eyes though, they're not her's, and even her features are more angled and sharp. Could he be? So many questions unanswered after all these turns.
Watersong turns around to face Sandspur, "How do you drowned a manytooth?"
Sandspur blinks, surprised by the question. **Some of them have to keep swimming in order to breathe. If you grapple one and hold it still, it drowns. They put up a fight though...and they've got skin like sand!**
**The Forbidden Grove,** Savith remarks, eyes studying the half glideress. **I know the are well. It is among the things I must speak to your chieftain about.** 'How long has she been here? Does Ekana know? Fuck! Where /is/ Ekana?' Savith's eyes narrow. Her features are SO angular! Clearlight's must have been.
Short red hair sways. ** I never knew it's name. **, her mental voice responds, still watching Savith, but oddly feeling more relaxed. He does not seem as threatening for some reason anymore, and so she drops her tension as well, even coming forward a little. The two are so alike they could almost be siblings, or perhaps father and daughter. ** I have told my Chief as much of that as I already knew, but I am sure he will welcome any new information you may have for him. **
Savith nods slowly. Everything but the eyes. Grey vs green. Grey eyes just EAT at Savith's memory, but he can't put his finger on it. **You glide,** he comments. **Not many do. It speaks of your hertitage.** Let's see what this does. If it's her, she'll remember... hopefully. Wolfblood does WEIRD things to glider minds.
Watersong ahs a little and nods, "I'd fight too if someone was trying to drown me. I'm glad you haven't gotten hurt to badly. Have you ever tried to drown any of the bigger ones?"
Firestorm stiffens, either through pride of that warriness again. ** I know my hertitage to well, and not well enough. ** What is he hunting for from her, if he does not know, does that mean it's not him, or will her own father not even remember his hatchling.
Sandspur goes eyes-wide and shakes his head again. **I'd wind up a shredded rag on the sand! The little one was a one-time thing. I didn't have a choice.** Again, that wide smile. **Even I know taking on a manytooth with no weapon means red water.**
Watersong smiles back at him, "Unless you planned it right. You could put some rope around a manytooth's tail and tie it to a rock to get him to stop mocing. Hunting manyteeth is very dangerous."
Savith hmms softly, then lifts to the air. **I understand. Come then. When last I saw you, you were a pup, and unable to fly. Let's see what time has taught you, Storm.** It HAS to be her! It hasn't to be... If Ekana lived... why couldn't Wildstorm?
**But not all of them drown if they don't move, just certain kinds. Try that with bottom-feeders and you'll just have a mad manytooth on your hands.** Sandspur watches curiously as the two fliers break off their intense glaring and Savith rises into the sky, wondering what's up.
Firestorm blinks, surprised, but then it dawns on her, you can see it in her eyes. 'It /is/ him!' ** Firestorm... father. ** she corrects, gently, softly, touching only his mind alone, none others need to hear this exchange or know the truth as she lifts into the air to follow him, straining her talents.
Watersong nods, "Probably, I'm a better cook and musician then I am a hunter." She over at the gliders as they life up and leave, "I wonder what that was all about?"
The locksend makes Savith tilt his head... Fire..storm. Makes sense. Most wolfriders change names as they grow older. Father... It is her. It /is/ her. And a shiver runs through him. **Firestorm,** he corrects, then replies. **Once Souldancer, always Savith.** Likewise locked to his daughter's mind, Savith doesn't need to share this with the others. He reaches out a hand, much like he did when he left them in the woods, to die. She can follow now.
Sandspur shrugs, frowning. He feels just a bit hurt that Savith didn't even look his way, but he supposes the visitor has other concerns.
Firestorm takes her father's hand.... and a sense of closure is reached. At long last she has a name, and a face, and .. confussion. He does not seem so horrible as her mother made him out to be, no sneering, no cruelty, but it's him, he knows her, he remembers. ** Savith... may I call you... father. Please? ** she asks him in locksend, her soul yearning for that closeness that only one other would know, but then Firewater isn't here to protect the young elfess.
Watersong smiles at Sandspur, "Would you like to go swimming with me at the Waterfall?"
The shiver settles into a lump at his throat as Firestorm takes his hand. She's alive. All his horrific nightmares, all his guilt... relieved. SHe's alive, and she... she doesn't hate. What hint of warm glimmers into those green green eyes. A tiny tiny smile forms. In locksend, he replies, **Father... you may.** He can't held back the memory of that last time she called him that... when he herd her crying it at the top of her lungs as he left them in the forst.
Sandspur looks over to Watersong and nods, his sunny smile breaking out over his features again. Company is company, after all, and there are other kinds of magic.
Watersong smiles as she holds out a hand to help Sandspur up.
Sandspur lets the pretty one draw him to his feet. "You...were around when I was last here, weren't you? You remember me?"
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Fallen Lord
SATURDAY, MAY 22, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Main Hall
The room rises up round, walls idle in their shape, with little regard to gravity, and fluid stone columns drip from the ceiling to floor, curving and twisting into deep blue shadows. The massive room is dim, lit only at the far side, where rises the skeleton of a great bird, hovering protectively over the throne of Blue Mountain's Lord. Deep, wide stairs rise up to greet the throne, stopping many feet below, leaving no evident manner of ascending the seat. From time to time, elves flit in and out, through hallways and through narrow, holes in the walls, high above the floor.
Every so often, Savith grins faintly as flickering emotions from his lifemate come to him. The joys of a new child. Ah, so wonderful. But then, it's right back to that sour 'all-business' look. At least, until the next time he grins slightly.
Winnowill tenses in her seat, while the feeling of magical energies being summoned and drawn thrums through the hall. Its as if the air goes thicker for a moment.
Well, that certainly gets Savith's attention. The faint grin vanishes, as he turns his head sharply to his Lord. He floats an inch closer, waiting.
A slight smile plays over the Lord's lips. One that any Chosen would know means someone somewhere is soon to be in very much pain.
The smile makes Savith swallow. Oh boy. And his soul, unbidden, checks on another part of itself. Everything's fine there? Thank the High Ones.
Winnowill breathes in a gasp.. what the??!?!
As Winnowill gasps, Savith tenses. His mind opens, waiting and ready for a thought from his Lord, anything, an order or something, to tell him what he must do, what is happening, how he can do Her Will.
Winnowill furrows her brow, more energy focusing and directing.. sweat breaks out on her brow.
And little klaxons go off in Savith's mind. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Something's got the Lord working hard, but now it's clear to Savith: this something is not near by. He sends to the kitchen, to have a fresh pitcher of cool clear water brought: NOW.
Winnowill gasps awake, her eyes wide. She clutches for something, and finds nothing. She teeters, and falls, tumbling down th steps of her Throne.
ACK!! Seeing Winnowill fall, Savith drops like a stone, hoping to gather up his fallen Lord before she can fall all the way to the floor. And this, just as the kitchen server flies in pitcher and goblet on a tray.
Winnowill falls into Savith;s arms, a shocked expression on her face. She mutters.. "What?" A moment later she regains herself. And anger steeples her brow. "Gather the Chosen, NOW."
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Main Hall
The room rises up round, walls idle in their shape, with little regard to gravity, and fluid stone columns drip from the ceiling to floor, curving and twisting into deep blue shadows. The massive room is dim, lit only at the far side, where rises the skeleton of a great bird, hovering protectively over the throne of Blue Mountain's Lord. Deep, wide stairs rise up to greet the throne, stopping many feet below, leaving no evident manner of ascending the seat. From time to time, elves flit in and out, through hallways and through narrow, holes in the walls, high above the floor.
Every so often, Savith grins faintly as flickering emotions from his lifemate come to him. The joys of a new child. Ah, so wonderful. But then, it's right back to that sour 'all-business' look. At least, until the next time he grins slightly.
Winnowill tenses in her seat, while the feeling of magical energies being summoned and drawn thrums through the hall. Its as if the air goes thicker for a moment.
Well, that certainly gets Savith's attention. The faint grin vanishes, as he turns his head sharply to his Lord. He floats an inch closer, waiting.
A slight smile plays over the Lord's lips. One that any Chosen would know means someone somewhere is soon to be in very much pain.
The smile makes Savith swallow. Oh boy. And his soul, unbidden, checks on another part of itself. Everything's fine there? Thank the High Ones.
Winnowill breathes in a gasp.. what the??!?!
As Winnowill gasps, Savith tenses. His mind opens, waiting and ready for a thought from his Lord, anything, an order or something, to tell him what he must do, what is happening, how he can do Her Will.
Winnowill furrows her brow, more energy focusing and directing.. sweat breaks out on her brow.
And little klaxons go off in Savith's mind. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Something's got the Lord working hard, but now it's clear to Savith: this something is not near by. He sends to the kitchen, to have a fresh pitcher of cool clear water brought: NOW.
Winnowill gasps awake, her eyes wide. She clutches for something, and finds nothing. She teeters, and falls, tumbling down th steps of her Throne.
ACK!! Seeing Winnowill fall, Savith drops like a stone, hoping to gather up his fallen Lord before she can fall all the way to the floor. And this, just as the kitchen server flies in pitcher and goblet on a tray.
Winnowill falls into Savith;s arms, a shocked expression on her face. She mutters.. "What?" A moment later she regains herself. And anger steeples her brow. "Gather the Chosen, NOW."
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