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Post by Anna on Oct 3, 2008 23:35:26 GMT -6
Mist leaned against a gnarled root and watched his chief silently. Sureshot had been gnawing on a bone for at least an eight of seasons now, and which each transition from one to the other, the gnawing had grown harder. He knew what worried his friend; they’d discussed it often enough.
The light of the moons caressed the glen where the ancient tree that was the center of the holt grew. The massive tree bore the scars of its long life, and Mist knew that only the tending of twelve generations of plantshapers had allowed the tree to keep its life. In the normal course of events, even trees eventually tired and returned to the earth. Mist could not count how many turnings of the seasons had passed since Chief Stalker had led their tribe here, but this tree – a sapling then – had been part of them the entire time. He could feel the spirits of their kin gathered around the holt tree.
Mist lifted his eyes and watched the gentle shift of new leaves as the wind whispered through the branches. He drew a deep breath, smelling damp earth, green growing things, the uniquely individual scents of his tribemates and their wolf-friends, and wealth of other scents that all compiled together to breathe ‘home.’ Peace settled in his soul, soothing the knife-sharp edge between healer and wolf. On nights like this, in moments like this, both halves of his soul were in harmony.
“Mist…”
The healer looked down to meet his chief-friend’s gaze and the arched his eyebrows in query. “Sureshot?”
“Have you considered what we discussed?”
Mist stiffened, then sighed. “I have.”
“Your answer?”
Mist grimaced. “The good of the tribe comes first, Sureshot. I’ll do as you’ve asked.”
Sureshot’s shoulders slumped and Mist sensed his chief’s relief. “Not much sense waiting longer,” Sureshot said. “Best be done now.” The chief closed his eyes and sent his voice out to his tribe. *I call council! Tribemates, come to holt-glen!*
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Post by Anna on Oct 3, 2008 23:40:43 GMT -6
Sunsong trilled a ripple of birdsong as her hands caressed the rough bark of the Father Tree. She felt her senses drift down into the wood, flowing through it from damp, water-laden root to loftiest, moon-soaked leaf. She tasted the loam of the earth and drank in the sweet wind in the air for an eternal moment before reaching out to find the stresses in the wood that growth and use were weakening. Fibers thickened, strengthening the encroaching weakness and Sunsong pulled herself back. Not too much. The ancient holt answered too readily to magic now, having been shaped and reshaped so many times, housing the Wolfriders. “Poor old tree,” Sunsong murmured, willing the roots to dig deeper into the soil, the branches to spread just a wee bit more so more leaves could benefit from the nurturing of the sun. “You’ve been stretched and strained as far as you can go, have you not, dear one? And all the others in the grove, as well. There are so many of us now sheltering beneath your branches.” And it was true. The Wolfriders had been settled here for longer than anyone but the howl-keeper could remember. The forest around the Holt was so saturated with magic that one had to take great care in doing anything. Sometimes it felt as though the magic was gaining a will of its own. A benevolent one, but still… There were times that Sunsong felt quite unwelcome, and the feeling saddened her. Her plantshaping talent had only recently manifested itself, and she was so eager to explore the potential she had! She dreamed of racing through the hearts of the living world around her, experience life in all its forms! And yet, she couldn’t here. There was little need for another plantshaper. The tribe already had two others and compared to them Sunsong’s newborn magic seemed weak. She didn’t mind that, but she did so yearn for the experiences that they had had, the chance to learn and create and grow – which she could not do, for the Wolfriders had no need. Today’s tending had been a small thing. Simply a practice set her by Fernflower to determine how thorough her sense of the tree could be. Sunsong had no doubts. Her talent was small, yes, but she was thorough!
Her task complete, she returned to her body and blinked, trading the senses of the tree for her own wolf-blooded perceptions. Her tribemates attended their various tasks around her, chattering and laughing. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and she sighed. The winter stores were long gone.
She slipped out of the den and danced along the broad limb of the tree until she reached clear point and could see who was in the glen. Her task done, the rest of the night stretched before her and she considered what she could do with all that time. But before she could think of much at all, her chief’s sending reached her mind. Looking down, she wondered what prompted the council. Then her body followed the path of her eyes as she dropped lightly do the lower branches until her next drop would put her on the ground.
“Council, my chief?” she asked brightly. “Are we going to have a howl?”
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Post by Kris on Oct 4, 2008 0:02:19 GMT -6
Stormfire stopped as Sureshot's sending reached her, moving only to give a sharp tug on the lace of her carry-sack. She looked up at the faces of her mothers, Sureshot's lifemates, and felt a lump swell in her throat.
Waterdance was the first to move, reaching out to touch a hand to Stormfire's cheek.
"It's time, she-cub," she said, a small, wistful smile belying the tears that welled up.
Quickflight got up and headed to the back of the den. Alarmed, Stormfire reached out. "Quick--"
Waterdance shook her head. *I wouldn't, daughter,* she urged. She wiped her eyes and took hold of Stormfire's arm. Stormfire let her blood-mother raise her to her feet, still worried about Quickflight. *She took the news hard. She needs time to accept it, and time to grieve.*
Stormflight swallowed hard, trying to push the lump back down where it belonged. "She won't be happy unless I stay, and I won't be happy unless I go." She met her mother's deep blue eyes, clear as a pool under the moons, and--except for the tears--as tranquil. "I wish I could give her her way . . ."
Waterdance shook her head. "Giving Quickflight her way in this is not going to help at all," she warned. She slid her hand from Stormfire's arm to her hand. "Come now, Stormfire. We have a council to attend."
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Post by Viola on Oct 4, 2008 1:40:19 GMT -6
Longdusk looked up when the sending of the chief touched his mind and his eyes sought Lightgaze's. "Council?" He frowned. "That sounds rather serious." A shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't stop and feel a dislike whenever council was called. A few turnings of seasons ago, when Fleetfoot had died, there had been a council. The association kept being there whenever Sureshot called for one.
He hated it, and he hated that he had became so suspicious and bitter, but the memories kept haunting him everywhere. Sometimes it even seemed that he could hear Skylight's laughing, and he had wondered if he was truly losing his mind.
His mother knew. Lightgaze touched his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Let's go, cub," she softly said. Immediately, Longdusk wanted to tell her that he wasn't a cub anymore -- it had been his common reaction on the phrase as soon as he had reached his adulthood, but he swallowed it. He could use her comfort.
He got up and offered to help his mother up, which she accepted with a smile. "Chin up, Longdusk. Maybe he has something nice to tell," she told him as they went outside, and although Longdusk smiled about her recently regained positivity, he shrugged slightly.
Overhearing Sunsong's words, he sighed deeply. The send had sounded seriously, but all the young plantshaper seemed to think about was joy, feasts and howls. Fleetfoot had been like that...
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Post by Viola on Oct 4, 2008 5:10:37 GMT -6
Firecat and her... well, almost lovemate entered the holt-glen fairly soon, because they had been nearby. She felt uneasy, but hid it well behind a facade of jokes and flirts. But her mate knew.
Hazel observed Firecat as they approached the ones already gathered, and with some hesitation, he took her hand. She stiffened only for a blink of an eye, but he noticed. And he knew she would bolt away from him any time soon, now. Still, he realized that Firecat had been comfortable with him for a long period already. He'd had feelings for her ever since Firecat had reached adulthood, and he had observed her closely. He had seen, several times, how Firecat would break off a relation because someone expected more, or if she had wanted more. She seemed to have an innate fear of letting someone in. Her sendings showed that faintly, but her soul would be filled with it.
Thus, when he finally dared to approach her and she and he began to spent time together -- and eventually denned together -- he had tried to keep his expectations as low as he possibly could. This wasn't the ideal situation for him, but as long as she was happy, he was so, too. He didn't want to lose her, and perhaps that was the real problem.
Firecat smiled as she saw Lightgaze and her far too serious son Longdusk, and chuckled at Sunsong's remark. "Oh, I do hope so. It's been a while since we've had a good howl or celebration. What story would you like to hear? I'll bring the dreamberries!" she added with a wink.
Casually, she let go of Hazel's hand, and instantly she had the feeling she missed something. She shivered, barely noticable, and was anxious about her own feelings. Hazel had come so close that she felt tied to him. Part of her enjoyed that, the other part wanted to flee from it.
She didn't even know when she had become like this. She had always written it off to her raising Evenstar, but there had to be more about it. Before, she had had an enduring lovemating which she felt comfortable with. Now, things had changed. Everything was different.
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Post by Anna on Oct 4, 2008 10:47:32 GMT -6
Firecat smiled as she saw Lightgaze and her far too serious son Longdusk, and chuckled at Sunsong's remark. "Oh, I do hope so. It's been a while since we've had a good howl or celebration. What story would you like to hear? I'll bring Sunsong settled comfortably on her branch, this mischieviously stretched her leg to tickle Longdusk's ear with her toe. She giggled when he when he steadfastly refused to react. "Something fun!" she answered Firecat. "Oh! When Stalker fell into the pricklebush that had the stinkcat nest?" "Cub, hush," Sunsong's mother said sternly. "A council is not a howl, as you well know. For once, child, be serious - and quiet!" Sunsong was not subdued by the scolding, but she did refrain from commenting on a howl again. She tickled Longdusk's other ear and settled to wait. Of course, waiting for Sunsong always involved the twittering, trilling sounds of birdsong. Mist looked up and watched the sunny-haired plantshaper as she teased the sober Longdusk and filled their glen with the bright sounds of sunlight.
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Post by Kris on Oct 4, 2008 16:27:43 GMT -6
Whirlwind swung down from a tree, landed on the ground, and straightened to find herself face to face with two males. She sighed. "Longtooth." She threw a look at the other one. "Skystrike."
The two half-brothers, both sons of the chief, gave her a long look and then walked away. Whirlwind felt her upper lip curl in response. The day would come when Sureshot would deal with his two overbearing offspring--and that day would be a happier one for all.
She took a path out of their way and met up with Tallspear coming from the stream. "Hey," and Whirlwind nudged his arm. "Why the long face? Someone shove you out of the furs early?"
"Stormfire hasn't spoken to me in two days," Tallspear returned, his eyebrows lowering over his eyes.
Whirlwind almost laughed. Pretty as Tallspear was, he looked almost comical when he was upset. Still, he and Stormfire had been inseparable since Stormfire was old enough to toddle. Instead, she just grinned and said, "She's spent the last two nights with Sureshot. I think he's teaching her how to deal with Skystrike without putting a fist through his teeth."
"That might make him look better," Tallspear muttered, but his scowl softened. "I worry when she holes up alone. She keeps too much to herself."
"You know why, Tallspear."
"Longtooth."
"And Skystrike."
"Skystrike challenged her and lost, though," Tallspear reminded her.
"That's why he's clinging closer than a burr to Longtooth," Whirlwind returned. She met Tallspear's eyes, glad to see the youth's expression harden in understanding. "We'll go to Council, but stay by Stormfire. If anything happens . . ."
Tallspear raised his chin defiantly.
**Nothing is going to happen,** he sent to Whirlwind. **Not if I can help it.**
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Post by peachbug on Oct 4, 2008 22:31:56 GMT -6
Evenstar tilted her head to the silent call to tribe, breaking her gaze from the sparkling night.
It had become difficult finding a safe, comfortable clearing for such things, for with the age of the forest came thick, towering branches and broad leaves. However much she enjoyed dancing under these branches, moonlight glittering around her, the shattered view of the sky the trees provided left much to be desired for the young stargazer.
She had been lucky to convince Sunsong to shape such a fine nest for her atop one of the older trees, coaxing the branches to give Evenstar but a little more room. She relaxed there now, leaning into the rough bark.
Her heart quickened at the call to council, Chief Sureshot's sending echoing in her mind. She had known there had been some tension as of late, over many things, but she did not know what this concerned.
As she descended from her perch, the blue eyed female tried to give herself comfort in the beauty of the stars tonight.
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Post by peachbug on Oct 4, 2008 22:44:30 GMT -6
Softling had almost given the sending no pause as she focused on skinning the ravvit in her hands, crouching beside her father Flintfire in some tall grass. **You'd do well to hold that dagger right,** Flintfire sent to his daughter with some humor. **Else you start counting by threes.**
The young female bared her teeth at the skinny meat in her palm. **Can't I leave this to Evenstar? I can get the meat easy enough.** His gold eyes flashed in the darkness. **And scar the skin? She would have a fine time for that.** Flintfire looked adoringly at his stubborn cub. "You must learn this." He said gently.
Flintfire jerked his head at the firm sending from their chief. He tried to read its meaning, to no avail. It seemed they would learn with the others. He nudged Softling, pulling the limp ravvit from her hands. **Later,** He cast a look that made Softling nod quickly. **Come.**
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Post by Anna on Oct 4, 2008 22:55:53 GMT -6
Icemark walked into the holt-glen, one eye following Silvercub's bounding progress. He smiled as he watched his cub join a group of other children. Their happy chatter was a sweeter music than Sunsong's trilling.
He found a spot on a thick, gnarled root thrusting up from the ground and settled down to wait. He had a clear view of his she-cub and the other children, and he could see the chief and the healer. There was also room by him for Redthorn, when she returned from the hunt.
While he waited, he settled the basket of his day's gatherings in front of him. Spring wasn't the best time for gathering plant stuff, but he'd found that some leafy greens were good to eat, as were some particular flowers. They were also good for decorating a little cub's hair. He tickled Silvercub's chin when she came running over to him and claimed some of the blossoms in the basket to put in her hair.
"Pretty as a songbird, my little petal-top," Icemark teased.
Silvercub giggled and dashed back off to join her agemates.
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