A Fish Out of Water

MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 2004

Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.

Rose Garden
Within this garden must be thousands of rosebushes, for everywhere is a new bud, or a fresh blossom. Every colour of rose imaginable is here, and the scent is deep, yet not overpowering. Rock lattices over a clear crystal ceiling which allows sunlight in to feed the roses. Some of the crystal seems to have been removed to allow for smooth airflow, and the air is moist, cool, and fresh. Along the winding path sit some benches, shaped out of the stone of the Mountain itself.

Tsoran pays no further attention to Ktai, his attention on the more exotic visitor. "I should be quite surprised if there was much in your history you were inclined to hide, Savah. Yours is such an...open mind."

Ktai much prefers to be dismissed by Tsoran, rather than to be the subject of his running commentary and observations, and so, once she sees that he has dismissed her, her shoulders drop slightly, and she almost relaxes into a more comfortable position sitting beside Savah. Not having anything worthwhile to offer, or perhaps she knows that if she speaks, she's likely to be under scrutiny again, she keeps her peace and simply waits.

From above, Savith drops in, literally. His eyes flick across the scene, before one brow lifts. "Entertaining our guests, Brother," he asks lightly of Tsoran, a faint near-smirk on his face.

Tsoran looks up at Savith, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "Savith. I do trust you have no objections."

Savith merely shrugs, arms crossing as he leans on a bit of stone near by. "I'm not your keeper," he retorts, eyes going to Savah breifly.

Savah looks towards the new arrival, and nods her head towards Savith, "Greetings Savith." Her eyes flit to each of those present from where she sits, with Ktai beside her, her smile growing more and more.

Ktai looks up as Savith glides in and her eyebrow quirks at the interplay between Chosen. To Savith, she offers a faint smile, for she has found him to be pleasantly tolerable, and to see his reaction to Tsoran might go far in ranking him as more approachable in Ktai's mind.

Tsoran considers this. "No, I do believe Kureel resumed his position once more." Narrow gaze flickers briefly to Ktai.

Savith gives Savah a light nod in reply, murmuring her name faintly. Ktai is likewise given a mere nod, though her name isn't uttered. His eyes return to Tsoran as the other Chosen replies, the words making Savith purse his lips faintly. "Hmmm," is all he replies with, lips never parting at the sound. A single brow lifts again, twitching up, before falling back to 'normal'.

As the by play between 'Broothers' begins, Savah goes as silent as Ktai on the matter, listening to the tones and inflections in voices.

Oh, that was too much. Ktai almost laughs softly, but manages to collect herself before her laugh escapes, and busies herself tidying the knot of her purple shawl.

Tsoran turns back to Savah. "It is a somewhat unique situation for the Chosen to have so many visitors of a... diplomatic kind. Some measure of adjustment has been needed. I do hope none of our visitors have had cause for complaint."

A locksend freezes Ktai motionless for a moment, and she remains still for a very long time before she slowly looks up and across to Tsoran, something hidden flickering through her eyes.

"The only disturbance I have witnessed thus far was between the stargazer and one of the go-backs, though, that was more harmless than anything else," Savah replies to Tsoran. She then turns her eyes on Ktai, one hand going to touch the glideress's own, a send drifting privately.

Savith's eyes remain on his brother. 'adjustment,' the Chosne repeats to himself, smirking. 'If that's what you want to call it.' Ktai's laughter isn't overlooked, for Savith's eyes flicked to her for the breifest of moments. The pause in Tsoran's voice makes Savith narrow his eyes, turning his gaze to scan the ladies. Ktai's reacted to something. No doubt his brother is the cause. Well, let's hope the elfess does nothing to force Savith's hand inthe matter. After all, the Cage is so terribly close by.

Ktai turns to look to Savah for a moment, a send slipping out, but to Tsoran in reply before she offers a pale and wan smile to the Mother of Memory. "Nothing more than a difference of opinions, Savah. Kindness begets kindness... and insults merit silence." After all, she promised Rayek, didn't she?

"Or extra shifts," Savith adds under his breath, a half-grin starting to dare to form. This ought to be fun.
Tsoran raises an eyebrow. "Most definitely a story there. But perhaps one of the 'hidden' ones." He looks to Savah, picking up the thread of earlier conversation. "But I do have to object, sweet Savah, to your implication that secrecy is linked merely to a lack of perfection."

Savah shakes her head, the humored expression she'd thus far carried upon her visage fades, disappointment and sadness replacing it. The timbre of her voice reflects the change in thought and mood as well, a long slow sigh slips from between her lips, her brows furrow softly, "No Tsoran, I stated no mind, however open, is perfect. There are flaws in us all, be those flaws from secrets or else."

Tsoran locksends ** Our Ktai does enjoy playing the martyr, doesn't she? **

You locksend ** A martyr, Brother,** Savith replies, curiousity twinging his send a faint orange. **Do explain. ** to Tsoran.

Tsoran says "Ah, but you stated this in response to my claim that you were unlikely to hold any secrets. Do you disagree with my assertion, then?"

Tsoran locksends ** I commented to Ktai on her smiling reception of yourself. She immediately acted as if this was a grave insult. Should it be? **

Savith lifts a brow, eyes on Tsoran. His stance goes from faintly amused to lightly curious. Then, at a private reply, Savith starts laughing. It's a deep hearty laugh, centered in his chest. He has to take gasps for air when and where he can. His eyes go to Ktai, sparkle a moment, only to drop him into laughter a new. Something, it is very clear, has so completely amused the Chosen. He can't even get his mind to settle enough to reply.

Ktai sighs wearily, watching the dance of words begin between Savah and Tsoran. Privately, she's glad it isn't herself in that dance, though she'd rather not see Savah scrutinized so. As for herself, she returns her thoughts to her shawl, settling it on her shoulders before looking up to Savith in a cross of amusement and surprise.
From afar, Ktai grins

"That I hold no secrets?" Savah asks softly.

Tsoran steps closer to Savah, meeting her gaze.

Savith fights for the laughter to subside. When it finally does, it's with a big smile and a hand held out to Ktai that he speaks. "Come on, Ktai. I'll get you some lunch."

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran

Savah lifts her gaze fully, honey hued eyes settling onto Tsoran's own without fear. She sends something privately to him then, in response to his own locksend.

Oh, the amusement in Ktai's eyes as she rises to her feet after a moment of consideration. "Thank you, Savith. I believe that I would enjoy that." Her skirts ripple at her feet as she pauses, looking back to Savah for a moment.

Savith steps from the wall, hand still held out to be taken by Ktai. He nods as she accepts his lunch invitation, flicking a lock send at his Brother.

You locksend ** Enjoying yourself? ** to Tsoran.

Tsoran locksends ** I would ask the same, Brother. **

You locksend ** I am now. ** to Tsoran.

Tsoran inclines his head politely to Savith and Ktai as they depart.

Only after Savah replies to her, does Ktai extend her own hand, fingers softly darker against Savith's fingers. She smiles to Savah, and moves to follow Savith.

Rock Garden
Hidden lights weave tangled shadows in the frozen beauty of the gardens. A dim memory of the dappled play of sunlight through leaves, the patches of light reflect off manycolored stone shapes that echo the essence of trees and bushes and tangled vines; and plants whose like has never been seen on the world of Two Moons.
Several reaching pillars sprout branchlike tendrils that reach for walls and ceiling as if to support them. Clusters of smaller shapes, bringing to mind flowers and birds, emerge from the clinging branches - skillfully drawn forth from smaller veins of softly colored rock.
Seats shaped like crouched animals, beaked and taloned, have been covered with soft furs to invite to restful contemplation of the gardens.
The distant walls of the garden appears as an interlaced mass of entwined rock, forming loops and mazes, scattered with random bulbs bursting with the promise of leaves, or flowers..or other things.
Drafts can be felt from deep within the walls, hinting at hidden shafts and openings.

Savith leads the way out, gently holding Ktai's hand in his own. THe smile remains, as does the soft chuckle as he walks, headed toward the Dining Hall.

As she moves with him, she looks to him thoughtfully. "You did that on purpose."

"Yes," Savith replies, still chuckling. "Yes I did. Serves him right, that jackass."

Oh, and now she laughs. It's a soft laugh, and one that perhaps the Mountain has not heard in a very long time, for it's the laugh that used to ring across the room when she used to be asked to a dance by wither Sothel or Valdir so very long ago. "I will admit that he has a certain... lack of charm about him."

"You can say that again," Savith agrees, walking amiably. He laughs again, shaking his head at the humor of the situation. His laugh, on the other hand, rather than being one long missed within the mountain halls, is a very new addition, one brought on by finding the soulmate that actually calms him rather than aggrivates him, and filling holes in his past and aches in his heart.

She moves along with him, a slow and steady pace, though she may seem relieved at the chance to get away from Tsoran's scrutiny. Granted, she is not entirely at ease with a Chosen, for there is that old knowledge that lies within her heart of betrayals and the fear that all Chosen are blindly Loyal to Winnowill and Her desires. "He took me to task for smiling at you."

Savith chuckles at that again, nodding. "Yes. He mentioned it. That's what I've been laughing at," he replies, smiling. His steps are slow and carefree, just moving throught the halls of his home. He shakes his head lightly at it all, chuckling every soon often.

She too shakes her head. "I have tried very hard to be respectable and polite... but it is increasingly difficult in the face of his insults." She hasn't even lowered herself to an insult yet... unless you count that one moment where she took leave of her senses with Kureel.

Savith shrugs lightly, grinning at everything that's been going on this afternoon. "Well, considering it's Tsoran, I think you've been doing rather well," he replies. There's the briefest of pauses in shich he turns to look at Ktai, the elfess at his side. "But do continue to restrain yourself. I'm certain he'd love any excuse to see the Cage warmed by an elfin body."

"I think that I have done enough time within the Cage, myself." For oh she has, indeed she has. She pauses for a moment, her skirts swirling to a rustling stop as she looks to him thoughtfully with unfathomable dark eyes. "You seem different from the other Chosen. I find myself pleasantly surprised."

Savith slows to a stop at Ktai's side, hand still holding hers lightly. He turns to face her, to meet her dark gaze with his own mossgreen eyes. Once, not so long ago, he would have avoiding her direct gaze. He would have looked her in the face, anywhere in tha face, anywhere but the eyes. The wolfriders called him Souldancer for a reason. But now. He meets her gaze frankly, the smiles fading as she studies him. "All in the name of diplomacy," he retorts, though one has to ask, is that all there is to it?

An eyebrow quirks, for she might suspect that there is more inherent to the difference, but if he wishes to shield himself with the cloak of diplomacy, she will not force the issue. "We do a great many things in the name of diplomacy." There's that faint little smile again, as if she knows the better but will not press it further.

To that the Chosen smirks, eyes starting to warm before he turns them away to continue on toward the Dining Hall. High ones! That might have been a blush, for Ktai's statement makes Savith remember all the things he's... ah... done.. in the name of diplomacy. Again, just as with Tsoran, Savith merely hmmms his reply.

Bemused, she moves along with him, choosing to walk over flight, though he may not have noticed. His noncommittal reply is noted, pondered, and then filed away into the silence that falls upon her for a moment, before she risks a comment again. "I hope that your kindness towards me will not result in ostracizing. I am an exile, after all."
Savith snickers at that verbal commit. "It shan't," he replies almost warmly, his steps sure and certain, as if the Chosen has been walking a lot as of late. "My lifemate was also an exile," he offers, eyes sliding to glance at Ktai.

"Is, in many ways still," Savith adds a moment later, voice softer, almost as if an afterthought.
Ktai cants her head slightly, looking to Savith in a rather sort of surprise. "Did she seek to return to the Mountain of her own free will?" Perhaps she does not know who his lifemate is. It's likely the case, as she has not been Within the Mountain for long, nor has she made herself privy to anything that has gone on. In fact, she's been holed up in the Guest Chambers more often than not... possibly to avoid confrontations with Tsoran or Kureel.

No, most likely she doesn't, since said lifemate has kept herself within his private living chambers with their youngest, in an attempt to keep contact with Outsiders at little to none. "She didn't, actually," Savith admits. "I sort of forced her hand into the matter... then our eyes met."

You sense in a locksend, Sandspur's wordless, sleep-heavy send of greeting brushes over your mind; despite assurances that he was fine, the hunt, flight, and the scuffle drained the recouperating Rafter.

You locksend to Sandspur, Savith is just mellowing after some hilarity, and so his send is marginally warm. Of course, discussing how he tricked Larias into returning to the mountain is chilling him slightly, there's a happy ending to it, for he Recognized, did he not? In anycase, the Chosen replies, the words soft and gentle, as one would send to an infant. **Sandspur, you're awake. I hope you slept well.**

Ktai nods slowly, in understanding. "My own Recognition came as quite a shock as well, though it was not destined to be anything more than Recognition." She doesn't mention the fighting, the deathwish, the wildness that took over and brought her to a unique understanding of the Wolfriders, nor does she mention the threats that her own children made... one of which is within these very halls.

Sandspur locksends ** Very well. **affection, pleasure at the greeting, humor** And there are no holes in your cushions. **

Savith hmms again softly, mind flickering at some locksends. "I understand," the Chosen replies, a smile at something sent combatting with that deep frown of past pain.

You locksend ** For that I am glad,** he replies, a heartache competing with the touch of humor that tries to echo your own. **Everyone else sleeps still? ** to Sandspur.

Sandspur locksends ** Yes. Savith, what's wrong? <> **

Both eyebrows arch, and the exiled glideress looks concerned for a moment. "Is there something amiss?" He is, after all, a Chosen, and there is that Duty that she knows he will answer should it come to it. She isn't yet comfortable enough around him to not be concerned for her own throat, but she'll remain calm for now. No need to leap to conclusions with him. Yet.

You locksend ** Just a marginally unpleasant topic. But one grows stronger from such conversation, I think. But calm yourself. I am fine. ** to Sandspur.

And thank the High Ones for that. Savith has had it to the eartips with elfesses thinking the worse of him. To her question, the Chosen shakes his head, replying to a locksend before he speaks. "No, Ktai. Just a guest of mine that has woken. YOu were saying," he promptly softly, still waking toward the Dining Hall, taking the ...ah... scenic route?

The scenic route is what one gets within the Mountain when one chooses to walk instead of glide, for there are many stairs and long corridors that one must wander in lieu of simply flitting across the wide expanse and alighting within the room that you desire to be within. "Hm?" She asks almost conversationally. "Oh, I believe we were discussing Recognitions and lifemates." She, of course, hasn't mentioned her own status other than being Recognized.

Sandspur locksends ** If you're sure. <> **

Sandspur locksends ** I am a little hungry. <> I'd rather not wake the pretty one, though. **
"Hmmm," Savith replies for a moment, while his mind asks something. "We were," he continues, but he will not press on the subject of Ktai's unpleasant Recognitions, having had two more than any sane elf would have liked in his lifetime. Rather, the Chosen asks, "Are you happy with your life's choice?"

You locksend ** My thanks for that, Sandspur. Any amount of sleep she can get is a good thing. I am headed to the dining hall with another elfess. Would you like me to collect you? ** to Sandspur.

At that, Ktai tilts her head and looks to him. "Choice in which? Mate, or else?" There is a great deal of vagueness within his question, and she would like to know what it is that she is being asked.

"Mate," Savith clarifies, eyes flicking upward at a send. One brow is lifted, as if he too is awaiting an answer. Until this conversation in his head is over, he's only partially paying attention, and that's clear.

You sense in a locksend, Sandspur perks up, the earlier incident with Generi forgotten or at least not being dwelt upon. New! Must explore! **I'd like that, yes!**

She nods thoughtfully, pondering her reply. "Well, he's hotheaded, arrogant, often times pompous... and a third of my youngest daughter's age... but I do love him, and that's what counts, isn't it?" The entire description is given in a lightly amused voice, as if she's wondered at her own sanity for choosing as she has.

Savith sighs lightly, not really having paid attention to the description, though what had heard it can't help but envision Kureel.. at least unti lthe age is mentioned. But unable to dwell on it, Savith's shoulders tense, and he pulls his hand from her grasp gently. "Forgive me, Ktai. I must go and collect another for food. I shall rejoin you in the Dining Hall, if you wish to continue this conversation." And, not waiting for a reply, the Chosen rockets off through the mountain and toward his room.

Tenspan's Hall
This room is surprisingly sculpted to an interior room, no bas relief trees or birds adorn the majority of this room, and its large hollowness even as the glowlight dims into rock rafters above is imposing. In the middle of the oval-shaped room is a huge, long table with many well-crafted stone chairs where sitting comfortably is a simple goal. Some of the chairs look newer, almost hastily sculpted to resemble the others, but the chair at the head of the table is, like the room, a glorious work of art.
Three tunnels snake at odd angles away from this room. One is large and designed to handle a great deal of flow in and out of the ajoining hall, another, smaller, likely leads to the kitchen where food is prepared.

The regal Glider floats into the hall at a pace slightly slower than normal, allowing the Rafter tagging at his heels to kep up. Though the blond, barefoot, and bare-chested stranger to the mountain walks with only a trace of a limp, he is obviously gawking at everything -- his lips are slightly parted and his wide grey eyes flick to every corner of the room, up, down, and then circuit again to see if he missed anything.

The Chosen's earlier 'guest' is sitting quietly at a table, dutifully ignoring the stares and pointed sent and spoken whispers from the kitchen staff. No doubt they're talking about her again, and they aren't doing much to hide it, instead opting to whisper loudly in accompanyment to sent gossip. She's busy trying not to care, however, and focus on the water that she has managed to acquire.

Savith drops to a gentle landing as he and Sandspur arrive, sending a snap at the kitchen staff. **Quit your gossip and get back to work. Raw fish, water, wine, and fruit, now.** The Chosen sighs faintly at the chattering sparrows, walking toward the table.

Watch the staff scatter and scramble to get the Chosen what he... requested. Granted, it wasn't a request, but the Chosen aren't required to be courteous and polite all of the time. The elfess at the table lifts her head to look over at the send, and offers a faint smile of thanks to Savith, for she certainly isn't anyone to tell them what to do, or even to leave her alone. In fact, to even attempt it might result in one of those 'problem' moments.

Sandspur continues to gape in Savith's wake. In some ways, he considers the living caves in the Rafter territory to be more beautiful...but he has never seen art on this scale before. A little bone or coral shaping, yes, but this...to shape your entire _world_...is an overwhelming concept to one who is far more used to being at the mercy of nature at its rawest. He bumps into the table, then looks at it curiously, and finally looks up to notice Ktai. He smiled cautiously, an expression not a litle bit like the sun peeping out from a wisp of cloud. "Clear skies. I'm Sandspur."

Savith narrows his eyes at one particular little gossip, making her flit from the ground to get out of his way, before he turns back to Ktai and the table. The smile is replied to by a faint grin and a light send. **Annoying little twitter birds.**

Sandspur gives Savith a wicked little grin. **Am not!**

That makes Savith snicker once, replying, "Not you."

Sandspur laughs a little. **You're more patient than most of my tribe, then.**

She laughs at the Chosen's comment, and nods to the elf that she does not know. "Clear... skies to you." it is not a greeting that she herself uses often, though what her greeting of choice may be remains unknown. "The staff will talk... I have little doubt that they will talk all the more after this." And she'll have to warn Rayek, lest he overhear something that isn't the case.

Savith rolls his eyes lightly, sitting across the table from Ktai. "Unfortunately, you're right," Savith grumbles as the staff begins bringing out the meal. He watches Sandspur, refraining from offering aid up to the table just yet. Oh yes, the staff will talk! After all, Ktai and Savith WERE seen holding hands, ALL the way from the Rose Garden!

Sandspur regards the table and chairs as most might regard a strange tool. It has *some* use, obviously, but he's not sure just what. Well...the maiden is sitting. Maybe that's what's expected? The Rafter shrugs and takes a seat, trusting that Savith will probably just pluck him off of the chair if it's inappropriate.

Ktai laughs lightly again, though her comment seems that it should be more concerned than amused. "And if Rayek catches word before I can tell him what was going on, he'll be shooting sparks from one side of the Mountain to the other faster than it takes to say it."

"Ah," Savith says, eyes widening and a faint smile forming. "So that's the arrogant one you were talking about." Sandspur's choice of chair can ONLY be wrong if he sat inthe big winged one, you knoe, the Lord's Chair. The Chosen shakes his head. "High Ones, and I though my lifemate was an odd choice." Not that he was ENTIRELY in control of the choice, but still.

Sandspur listens, absorbing information like a sponge. "Is your lifemate here?" Sandspur asks curiously.

She rises to her feet, her skirts cascading a shimmering darkness all about her legs and pooling in ripples at her feet, and she looks to one of the many exits. "Indeed he is, and I'd better go speak with him now... before one of those chattering little birds get to him first." With a faintly apologetic smile, she moves towards the exit, pausing to turn back to Savith. "I will have to take you up on your offer of a meal at a later time, I fear. May the High Ones look kindly upon you."

Savith nods in reply, smiling lightly at Ktai. No worded reply does he give, however.He just watches her leave before turning back to the table. With the feast served, Savith motions to it, eyes going back to Sandspur. "The fish is raw for you." See! Savith remembers!

Sandspur has to swallow the rush of wetness in his mouth before he speaks. "Thank you." The fact that Savith has recalled that little detail isn't entirely lost on Sandspur...he saw the Glider cooking his own and knows Savith must find it distasteful. Yes, he will certainly have to do something for his friend soon. He tilts his head to one side as he piles the leaf-thin slices of pale, red-veined meat before him. "Who are the ones serving?"

"The annoying sparrows," Savith replies, eyes falling upon one thin boned elfess. She lifts her gaze to him, swallows, then drops her eyes, pouring wine into the CHosen's goblet. Savith narrows his eyes at her, lips pressed into a thin line. He's served himself some of the raw fish, and watercrestnuts to munch on, fingers collecting the delicate meat slowly.

Sandspur,munching happily on his meal, misses the look that passes between Savith and the skinny maiden. Between his recouperation and the excitement of the day, the Rafter is starving, and it shows. He inhales the meat and its garnishes with good appetite, then regards the dark liquid in Savith's cup when he comes up for air. "Is that medicine?"

Savith was midswallow, and Sandspur's question, so innocent, makes him cough as he tried to chuckle and swallow all at the same time. See, some rafters can breath water, but no elf can breath wine.
Sandspur tries to decide if he's offended or not, and decides to save it for after Savith has stopped coughing. He stands quickly and moves to thump his companion on the back a few times.
Savith waves off the help, getting his throat cleared. "I'm fine. Ahh.. It's wine," he answers finely, clearing his throat again. "Hmm.."

Well, the word sounds half-familiar, but not really. Sandspur regards the decanter, considering. "What's it for?

"Drinking," the Chosen replies, bringing more to his lips to clera his throat.
Obvious enough. Sandspur looks between the decanter and the extra goblet for a moment, then reaches for both, ignoring the server.

Savith watches Sandspur, sipping at his own wine. He clears his throat again, then reaches for some more food.
Sandspur seeing that he's not going to be stopped, Sandspur pours himself a generous cup and sniffs carefully. The smell makes his nose tingle a little, but nothing horrible...just new. He introduces himself to wine with hardy gulp, struggles with it for a second, then manages to swallow (even if if does make him go pop-eyed). **It stings!**

Savith laughs heartly at that, setting the wine goblet down. **Yeah, it can at first,** the Chosen sends, too busy laughing to speak. "But it grows on you."

Sandspur frowns a little at being laughed at and turns wordlessly back to his goblet, determined not to let a stinging berry juice get the better of him. He finishes the whole thing off in another gulp and reaches for the decanter again.

Still chuckling, Savith's eyes widen as Sandspur moves for more. "You might want to take it slow there," he tries to warn the Rafter.

**I'm thirsty,** Sandspur sends back stubbornly, trying to ignore the slight tearing of his eyes and the slight dizziness that comes with drinking that fast without a breath. Oh, yes. Breath. He remembers to breath before he starts gulping his second cup.

Savith shakes his head lightly, and floats the decanter away, one hand reaching to get Sandspur's wrist, if he can. "I think you've had plenty."

Sandspur doesn't try to avoid and shrugs slightly. "If you think so." Maybe some water wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Tethered by his wrist and not really able to get comfortably back to his seat, Sandspur opts to perch on the edge of the table, swinging his legs. "That wasn't bad." He feels pretty good, actually...fuzzy, warm, and his leg is giving him no pain. He grins. "So it is medicine," he says aloud.

Savith sends for the water as he lets go of Sandspur's wrist. "No, it's not medicine. It's just wine, and if you're not used to it, over doing it is bad." He should know. His lifemate... oh bou. what a drinker a few turns back.

Sandspur laughs a little. "Well, it helped my leg. Doesn't ache at all now." A carafe of water settles at the Rafter's elbow and he carefully pours, spilling just a few drops down the side of the goblet, though he almost upsets everything setting it back down. He manages his drink without disaster, however. "How many rooms are here?" he asks softly, looking around as he remembers to be awed again.

"A lot," Savith replies, sitting back, eyes on the rafter. "I've never bothered to count." Cause, he hasn't. What's the point? The shapers could jsut as easily add or remove rooms whenever they wanted as leave everything alone. He continues eating lightly, almost enjoying the day off he's got from all the hunting and running around. That last hunt really helped.

"It's..." Sandspur goes quiet for a time as he tries to think of a good word. "We all build homes," he says finally, "but not like this. Not half-alive...looks like it'd flow under your fingers if you touched it."
Savith just shrugs at that. "If you're a rock shaper, I suppose." He drinks a bit more, gagging himself with food and drink. "If you'd like a tour," he offers after a moment of chewing.

Sandspur considers for a moment, then nods. "I'd like that. I want to see how you live. I've been swimming around forever, but I never saw any other elves until recently. It's happened so fast..."

Savith nods, munching on some fruit. "I'd be happy to show you around, at least until Duty summons me," the Chosen adds. "Whenever you're ready." SOmething's put a burr under his butt. Maybe it's the fear of a drunken rafter?

Good Intentions, Misunderstood

Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.

Field before Blue Mountain
A single mountain stands almost unnaturally into the air before you, grand and solid. Boulders and uneven, sheer rock faces threaten those who wander too close. Huge cracks split the mountain's roots, down to the assortment of rubble at its feet and up, hundreds of heights toward the mountain's spindly peak. In either the brightness of day or under the light of twin moons, the entire mountain and all the rocks about it have a definite blue tint.
The field, dotted with boulders, seems to end at the mountain itself. One of the larger cracks obviously delves in deeper, forming a short, narrowing cave.

A few hours ago, a large hawk did a flyby of the area, its rider not stopping. Now, however, the hawk has returned, and drops off an elf. The Chosen, now, emerges from one of the Raft Holt tents, brow a bit furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. He stands for a moment in the open clearing in the middle of the campsite, as if composing himself for a nasty meeting mountainside.

Azil was tending to the fawns when she heard the high pitched whistle indicating an arrival. She turns on her heel, grabs her spear and pokes her head out of the tent. She can see a vague outline in the distance and she looks around to see who else is there for support. Not suprised to find anybody she creeps out of the tent, spear held at ready. She says nothing.

Savith stands still, head bowed against the gusts at the base of the mountain. The gleam of metal can be seen in his hands as he fiddles with the talonwhip that marks him as Chosen.

Azil's eyes widen then narrow again as she notices the weapon.She isn't sure if he's noticed her yet as she slinks behind a tree. She whistles for backup, doubting anyone will come as they are probably too busy eating, sleeping or furring. She calls out "What do you want pale one, a fight?"

The voice catches Savith's attention, and he turns to look in the direction of the sound. Green eyes narrow faintly as he scans the treeline searching for the voice's owner. "No," he replies a loud, continuing to coil the silvery rope attached to the butt-end of his weapon.

Azil's lips curl into a sneer as her eyes narrow. "Then go back into yer stinking hole and return our cheiftess to us!" She barks out. Its been a while since Kahvi and Kintae left to the mountain, she doesn't know what is going on, or if they will see her again... alive.

Savith rolls his eyes, moving to clip the weapon to his belt. "Your chieftess is free to return when her business is done," he replies coolly. "Perhaps you should send to her and see how much longer she'll be."

Azil blinks a bit then scratches her head. Sending.. that kinda.. hurts. She snorts and silently mocks him. She steps out from behind the tree and takes 3 paces forward. "I have no need for "magics" (she almost spits the word out). Just old fashioned troll metal and a target" She sizes you up with her eyes quickly, then narrows them.

Typical. Barbaric, brainless gobacks. Savith seems highly unimpressed, and his expression sours slightly. "So I see," he quips softly. "Well, your target is still being tracked, but if you like, I can deliever a message to your chieftess."

Azil isn't going to be thrown off guard by his courtesy. "Tell her we're wasting time here. We don't need your kind's help. Goback business, is goback business alone"

That makes Savith quirk a brow. "Goback business," he repeats. "After My Lord has extended Her hand to you and your tribe in this, the hunting of the Destroyers of your home?" Really, doesn't that Kahvi tell her peons /anything/?

A low, choked moan drifts from the tent behind Savith. It's a stifled sound, as if whoever is in pain is trying to hold back, and dies away quickly, only to be heard again within heartbeats, this time at a more intense pitch before being muffled.

Azil narrows her eyes almost as if she could read what he was thinking "Its our business!" She growls, threateningly "What do you care that..." She stops as she hears the moan, notices its in the seaelf encampment. "Maybe you should go finish, what you started" She indicates.

Savith glances back at the tent, and his expression shifts faintly. It's a bit of a frown. The motion, however, brings the talonwhip into view more, and it's silver rope is darkened by a red substance, one that stains his hands faintly. To the battle-hardened goback, it's clearly blood. Probably the same blood that darkens the trim of his uniform, now coming into view as Azil draws near. "There is little more I can do," he states.

Azil does notice the blood and readies her stance again. "Is this a game to you glider? Do you enjoy letting us "lowly" suffer?" Her eyes nearly shine in the night with anger.

The moaning does not fade this time, but instead builds to a full-throated, masculine scream in short order. The agonized scream that dies away in wet gurgle before very long. Sharp ears might catch sounds of violence from within the tent...thrashing and faint thumps.

Azil lets out a growl, then quickly glances around her. Her mind churns at the thought of an ambush. This one placed out for distraction while his kin finished the others off "Barbarians" She yells, her chest heaving with disgust and anger. Her sense of control fading to fury, she makes ready to charge him.

Annoyance flashes in Savith's eyes a moment, before he stamps it out with an iron fist. Turning from Azil and the tent, Savith faces the mountain, lifting his chin toward the summon and bringing a hand to his lips. But the motion is stopped short as he hears the goback scream and charge him. Quickly he glancing back to confirm, then launches himself up into the air.

Azil waves her double tipped spear around twice in the air before calling to arms all that can hear her voice. The dust benieth her feet whirls like a dust devil as she charges. Her eyes intent on her target, her aim is marked in her mind. She swings..

Chosen are expert flyers. This one is no different, and he skims through the air like a bug on water, pulling his body one way then the other as he ducks away from the swinging spear all while drifting higher and higher into the air. "Enough of this," he calls down to the goback. "I am not here to cause harm! End your thoughtless actions."

Azil's knuckles white as she grips her spear, angered largely at her inablility to strike him. She looks up, her ashen hair tangled about her face, her amathyst eyes burn with hatered "Liar!" she shouts and spits on the ground. She is near to the tent now and she strains her ears for any sound of movement within... perhaps she can catch his accomplice off guard.

Pained gasps for breath, barely audible above the harsh breathing of the snow-hardened warrioress, can be heard from beyond the canvas. The sounds of scuffling have not ceased, but are somewhat fainter now. A choked whimper drifts out in a momentary lull between bouts of thrashing before it begins again.

Savith watches Azil from above. **In sends there is only truth,** he sends to the goback, eyes narrowing faintly. **I am not here to cause harm to you, and am under explicit orders for such, but I will defend myself if needed.** And his own mind will bear witness that Azil swung first.

Azil turns towards the scuffling and takes a step towards the entrance of the tent as the Glider sends. She squeezes her eyes shut and staggers backward a few steps clutching her head. A sharp pain followed by dull aching. "Knock it off!" She hollars and shakes her head clear. Her eyes dart between him and the tent, still mistrusting, as all gobacks are, and sneaks to the entrance, preparing to throw back the flap and stab at anything that rushes towards her menacingly.

Savith falls silent then, watching the goback. His hands flex as he steadies himself in midair. If she moves to attack the injuried rafter inside, she better believe he's going to dive bomb her.

There's a golden-haired elf on the floor of the tent. He's almost as tall as a Glider himself, though broader shouldered. At the moment, he's arched up in a convulsion of exsquisate agony, foam from his mouth streaking his face and chest, eyes rolled back in his head. The bedding he was laying upon is tousled and blood-stained, while the elf himself lies half-on, half-off of it, twitching like a half-crushed bug as he goes into another convulsion. Blood mingles wih the foam on his body where he has already bitten through his lower lip. More blood flows from his heel, and his right leg is swollen and discolored, dark and far from healthy-looking.

Azil takes quite a few steps back as she clutches the scruff of her shirt "The mad sickness" She states in a voice mingled with awe and fear. Only a handful of times in her life has she seen this horrifying illness. She stares at the tent, wide eyed, the glider forgotten for the moment.

"No, it's not," Savith states from up above, starting to make a slow descent to the ground. "It's snake poison."

Azil continues to stare at the tent for a while, then her eyes flick to his.A rumor filters through her head, then to her lips without her being able to consiously think about it "The black snake...."

Landing, Savith overhears and sighs. "No. My Lord had nothing to do with this," the Chosen replies. "This was a simple mud-snake from the lake we were hunting at. It's not lethal, but he shold be watched."

Azil twitches her head as words which seem inconcievable to her, flutter in her brain "We?" She blinks, the fight all but torn out of her at the horid sight. "Why don't you do something about it!" She turns to him as blame. "Cannot you see he's in pain and suffering! Don't you have medicines that will help, or a ... " She opens her hand and closes it, grasping for the correct word "Healer" She finishes.

And that makes Savith's eyes lower to the ground, the frown return, and brow furrow. "I see the pain he is in, but I am no healer, and My Lord... is busy with the guests and visitors. I can not disturb her for this." YOu know, if he weren't a self-serving Chosen, he might actually sound sad about this.

Azil looks at you incredulously, before anger seeps into her features "What good are your magics then?" She walks away back to her tent wondering where she might be able to find a healer or a herbalist this time of night.

Inside the tent, the blond elf rolls onto his side, curling around himself, only semi-conscious and mewling like a newborn.

Savith watches Azil move away with a sigh. But hearing Sandspur's gurgles, he glances in. The foaming has begun. But unable to do any more, and having fresh fish to deliever, Savith turns and heads back to his bird.