Log Date: 10/10/96, 10/11/96
Log Cast:
	Doreel, Trouble
Log Intro:
	Still uncomfortable and wary to the point of fright in Doreel's
hidden grove, Trouble has watched the ancient elf heal her wounded
companion Dart, and has had a taste of some of the products of Doreel's
shaping work. Now, she is keeping guard over the exhausted Dart....

----------
Doreel walks down the stairs from the heart of the tree.
Doreel has arrived.

Trouble, and her companion with her, have curled up at the base of the grove's 
  central tree; Dart sleeps deeply, but the huntress dozes, brow furrowed.

Surprisingly quiet, if remarkably slowly, Doreel makes his way out of the 
  interior of the tree. Just as slowly he moves down the steps, mumbling 
  softly to himself as he goes.

Trouble shifts, restlessly, rolling slightly away from the prone Dart. Her 
  eyes flicker a little as she drowsily remembers, again: watch. Right, keep 
  watch.

The old one pauses on the very bottom step, bobbing his head a few times as 
  though nodding to something, or perhaps someone. "Of course." He tells the 
  empty air.

Trouble snaps her eyes open, and blinks twice, sleepily.
Trouble glances first to Dart, to make sure he is still near, then up to the 
  tree. Slowly, expression wary, she sits up.

Doreel shrugs faintly, shaking his head. "I don't know." His attention is 
  caught by the movement and he turns to look over, breaking into a smile. 
  "Ah, back already, I see."

Trouble blinks. ** Back? **

Bobbing his head in a few more nods, Doreel moves out into the grass, stopping 
  several paces out to stretch. "You were successful, then? Ardah had 
  mentioned the shortage of berries."

Trouble rises, carefully, frowning. ** Um... I didn't go anywhere... I'm 
  Trouble. Do you remember? ** _Timmorn's Blood, he _is_ mad..._
Trouble, even as she sends her name, wrinkles her nose slightly at it.

The other smiles condenscendingly. "Yes, yes, of course you are. You always 
  have been." He glances toward the sleeping Dart. "Ah, poor Vargo." He shakes 
  his head once, then turns toward the trees.

Trouble suddenly scowls. ** I know, ** she snaps, though mostly to herself. 
  She squats by Dart, and peers down at him, anxiously. ** This is Dart, not 
  Vargo. **

Doreel pauses, looking over his shoulder. "Really?" He ponders for a moment, 
  then shrugs. "If you insist."

Trouble repeats stubbornly, ** His name is Dart, and he's travelling with me. 
  ** She watches the sleeping one, as she sends; her tone is strangely 
  confused, despite its firmness.

"He's been Vargo for as long as I can remember.." Doreel kneels, contemplating 
  his patch of shrooms. "Why he should change his name now.. ah well. Are you 
  hungry?"

Trouble glances over at you, frowning, and allows, ** A little bit. **

Right about now, one of the burrowers happens to arrive on the scene. This one 
  is new; a female. She frowns faintly as she looks around the grove, then 
  hurries over to Doreel. Doreel begins to pick mushrooms, selecting this one 
  and that, mumbling to himself about various aspects of shroom growing, but 
  stops to look up at the small figure now to his left.

Trouble shies back a bit from the new Helper, shifting into an almost 
  protective crouch by Dart's curled form.

The Helper glances nervously over Doreel at you, then looks directly at him. 
  "Master shouldn't wear himself out," she says quietly. "Not good, not good 
  at all." Doreel looks at her curiously, then down at the ring of mushrooms. 
  "I didn't." He answers. "Just.. eh.." The burrower sighs, shaking her head.

Despite herself, Trouble eyes the female Helper, wonderingly. The elders were 
  right about _this_, too; her brow crinkles as she once more berates herself 
  for forgetting Strongbow's warnings. Wary, though, too, the maiden glances 
  between the Grove residents, not at all sure whether she should say anything 
  to either.

The little one stands up on her tip toes, leaning in to whisper something to 
  Doreel. He blinks, shaking his head, then sighs.

After a bit, the Helper reaches out to pat Doreel's arm. He grabs several of 
  the mushrooms, then stands, looking down at the green one for a moment 
  longer before turning to face you.

Trouble slowly moves her hand to check -- quiver with Dart's recovered arrows, 
  and her bow, still within reach. Then she meets the tall elf's gaze, her 
  stance taut.

Maybe, just maybe, a tinge of color darkens Doreel's pale features. Perhaps 
  not. In any event, he moves again toward you, shrooms in hand. "You, eh, 
  slept well?" Behind him, the helper bites her lip, then trots after.

Trouble nods, slowly. "Well enough," she says gruffly. "Just dozed."

Doreel nods as well, pausing when he's relatively near. Still heeling, the 
  female Helper stops as well, peering around him at you. Doreel glances back 
  at her, then holds out one of the mushrooms. "Here you go."

Trouble eyes the offering, then takes it, sending tensely, ** Thank you... ** 
  Sparingly, she nibbles at it, as a wolf might.

Again there is that undeniable fizzy qualitiy to the flesh of the thing.

The other elf doesn't eat, instead glances skyward for a moment, pensive. Then 
  he sighs, looking back down. "And your friend. He's recovered fully?"

Trouble pauses at the strange fizziness, then blinks, startled. "What?" After 
  a moment, she looks more fully at her host.
Trouble swallows a mushroom bite, then ohs. "He said he would be alright... 
  after a rest.... I promised to watch over him." Seeing that you seem closer 
  to coherent now, the huntresses relaxes, a little.

"Your friend." Doreel nods rather lightly in Dart's general direction. "He's 
  better?" He nods again, satisfied with the answer. "Good."

Trouble pauses once more, and stares bemusedly at her free hand's fingers.

The Helper, Lira, leans a little to look up at Doreel. His expression goes 
  slightly dreamy, at which point she moves the rest of the way up to tug 
  gently on his tunic. This apparently triggers something, because he blinks 
  again, then settles to watching you.

The fingers in question twitch a little, as Trouble experimentally curls and 
  uncurls them. Then she downs the reest of the shroom, and continues flexing 
  her hand, as though trying to awaken it from sleep.

Trouble begins, "You... said you wanted us to stay with you, for a while..."

Doreel nods, rather lightly. "Yes, I do." He smiles, offering another one of 
  the faintly mottled fungi. "We get lonely here, sometimes."

Trouble stretches her fingers again, then takes the next shroom, while saying, 
  "We'll have to go back eventually, but we can stay for a while." 
  Half-defensive, half-defiant, her voice suggests a number of unspoken 
  emotions. Nibbling at the new shroom, she adds, ** I'm... not very good at 
  talk. You might not like that. **

"That's alright. Reeya ca.." He trails off as his tunic is tugged yet again, 
  looking down at Lira. Then he ohs, nodding. "Perhaps you'll get better as 
  time goes by."

Trouble shrugs, smirking slightly, and looks away as she nibbles at the second 
  shroom. This time she eats somewhat more quickly; maybe she's hungrier than 
  she claimed. ** Spent three eights of turns of the seasons being a lone 
  wolf, not going to easily change now... **

"Only three eights?" He seems mildly amused by that statement. does Doreel, 
  and shakes his head. "After enough time you get tired of being alone. 
  Believe me."

** I've three eights and two turns... ** She trails off, staring down at both 
  her hands now.

Doreel mmmmhms softly, extending another shroom. "You aren't alone now, 
  though." He glances over at the still sleeping one. "At least, not as much 
  as you claim to be."

Trouble curls and uncurls each digit, then, baffledly, shakes her forearms a 
  little. Her green eyes darken, but she is distracted by Doreel's look to 
  Dart, and she blushes. ** He.. came after me. I didn't tell him to come. **
Trouble adds, with sudden accusation, ** You said the mushrooms didn't do 
  anything! **

Doreel nods a bit to the first statement, then arches an eyebrow. "That isn't 
  -exactly- what I said," he answers mildly.

Trouble lifts her hand, starting to point an angry finger at the tall 
  fair-haired elder, but the motion goes a little slower and less sharper than 
  she'd intended. She frowns at this, then at Doreel. ** My... hands are all 
  tingling, ** she accuses, trying for an aggravated tone. ** What else do the 
  shrooms do? **

Doreel traces the cap of his last brought mushroom absently with one 
  fingertip. "What do you think they do?" He replies, answering question with 
  question.

Trouble scowls. ** How am I supposed to know? ** She frowns down at both her 
  hands again, and rubs absently at her forearms.

"Then maybe they don't do anything?" The old one smiles. "Nothing hurts, does 
  it?"

At this, the maiden blinks, taken slightly aback. ** No, ** she acknowledges. 
  ** Nothing hurts. **

Doreel nods rather matter-of-factly. "Then don't worry about it." His tone is 
  not quite suggestive, nor is it demanding. It's just a statement.

Trouble frowns. ** Will it harm me? ** She stares at the ancient elf, sternly.

Doreel shakes his head. "Of course not."

Trouble's stubborn look doesn't alter. ** Send that, ** she insists, even as, 
  not quite knowing what to do with her tingling arms, she wraps one hand 
  around her other wrist and draws it to her.

** They won't hurt you. ** His mental voice is terribly soft, and -feels- old.

Trouble draws in a slight breath at the sending, then slowly, hesitantly nods.
Trouble sends openly ** But this... <feeling of 'fizz', coursing through her 
  fingers and forearms>... is from the mushrooms, right? **

Doreel looks again thoughtfully at his shroom and holds it out. He nods at the 
  question. "It is. Does it bother you?"

Trouble blinks again, not having considered that. She looks down at her 
  fingers, slowly moving one or two of them on the hand she's holding with her 
  other wrist. Indecision flickers across her face. ** No, ** she finally 
  answers. ** I've... never had anything that does this before. I don't eat 
  dreamberries much. **
The other nods thoughtfully, slowly settling on the grass nearby. 
  "Dreamberries, eh? Hmm." He regards the last mushroom pensively now. "What 
  do those do?"

Trouble relaxes slightly, perhaps without knowing it. ** We have them at our 
  Howls, ** she ventures, awkwardly. ** To remember those who lived before 
  us... a few will bring forth memories... a lot will make you silly. ** She 
  smirks a little. ** Pike likes them a lot. And Ynderra does too. Even though 
  she had enough one day that she tried to shape herself a lovemate out of a 
  branch of the Father Tree and made Strongbow -- ** At that, she cuts herself 
  off, startled.
Trouble finishes, sounding wary again, ** -- break his ankle. Healed him 
  later, though... **
Trouble trails off, watching you with something that might be nervous fright 
  in her green regard.

"Strongbow." That name is repeated, lowly. The old one narrows his eyes 
  faintly, but changes his expression quickly to a very gentle smile. "And 
  Pike? Ynderra?" Those are repeated too, perhaps to cover the first. 
  "Interesting. Please, go on."

The maiden shifts, taking a moment to wrinkle her brow down at her 
  still-tingling hands, as she pushes against the ground briefly with her 
  palm. ** What... do you want to hear about? **

"What would you like to tell about?" Doreel turns his head slightly to watch 
  you. "You've got so many things to say."

Trouble frowns vaguely. She does? Then, she smirks a bit, perhaps at herself. 
  ** That'd be a switch... **

Doreel tsks softly. "You haven't been quiet yet.." Then he shakes his head, 
  looking slightly distant once more. "Of course, if you don't want to talk.."

** I... guess I don't have anything else to do. ** Again, she smirks a bit. ** 
  Told you, I'm not good at it... **
Trouble scowls down at her fingers, and blushes faintly.

"You're better than some of us." points out Doreel, thoughtfully. "Him, for 
  example. He hasn't said anything since I've been out here." Bright blue eyes 
  look over at Dart, then move back to you.

Trouble mutters without looking up. "He's exhausted."

Doreel mmmhms, nodding.

Trouble then adds, restlessly, "I... don't talk too well to Dart, either..."

Doreel ahs now, nodding some more. "Why not?" He then inquires, quirking an 
  eyebrow.

That makes her blush, more. "We always argue," she mumbles gruffly, as she 
  flexes her fingers in turn. "Even after he came after me. Didn't tell him 
  to. Thinks I'm a stupid cub..."

"Oh, I don't know." The other shrugs, lightly. "If he did, would he really 
  have come after you?"

Trouble pokes with one fingertip at the grass, then her scowl lessens, a 
  little, at the feeling of blades of grass against her tingling skin. "Don't 
  understand why he did it anyway. Hasn't helped me find a new name."

Doreel raises an eyebrow, lightly. He shifts positions again, slightly, 
  folding his legs under him. "Why do you need a new name?"

Trouble doesn't answer immediately, but her expression noticeably shifts; her 
  cheeks flush, her mouth tightens, and her eyes grow suspiciously damp. 
  "I..." ** I-I just do... **

The other pale brow lifts, and Doreel nods once. "Mmm. Yes, I suppose you 
  wouldn't want to be Trouble for the rest of your life.."

Trouble scowls again, and scrubs the back of one hand across her eyes. ** I 
  hate it. **

"What sort of name are you looking for?"

Trouble trembles a little, and shrugs, looking away. ** Something, anything, 
  I-I just _hate_ Trouble, why did Mother have to name me... ** She clamps her 
  eyes shut, then, ferociously, and her trembles increase.

Doreel nods once, faintly. "We don't have to find our names.. they're just.. 
  there." He mumbles softly, "I'm sure you'll find your own." following almost 
  right on top of it.

Trouble makes a noise suspiciously like a sniffle, and growls out, ** I've 
  been TRYING...! **

Doreel looks at you curiously for a moment, then frowns. "Perhaps you're not 
  trying hard enough?" Whether he's conscious of that NOT being the right 
  thing to say or not, it's been said.

Trouble snaps, raggedly, ** Been trying f-for ten turns of the seasons now! ** 
  Shoulder gone tight and tense, she turns away, still trembling, and wrapping 
  her arms around her knees. Her head lowers, as though she's trying to hide 
  her face.

That statement is contemplated for quite some time. Eventually though, Doreel 
  nods, looking at his hands, which now begin to glow softly. "Ten turns." He 
  says, quietly. "Maybe you should look somewhere else.."

Faint sniffling sounds continue to come from the huntress. ** Dunno where 
  else, ** she send-mumbles, still not looking up.

The glow fades from Doreel's hands, and he looks at you once more. "Eh.." He 
  sighs, very softly, shaking his head. "It'll be alright, I think."

Trouble remains huddled, and sends grumpily, ** Not going back till I find a 
  new name... Mother won't miss me anyway... never does... **

Convinced of that or not, Doreel doesn't really comment on it. Instead he 
  frowns. "Eh." That is, in fact, his comment.

And with that, the maiden's shoulders shake; her arms tighten around her knees.

Doreel, not at all sure what to do with an upset elf, just sits there watching.

Trouble finally sucks in a breath and lifts her head, though she doesn't look 
  back around at you.

"A name," mumbles the other to himself. "Feh."

Trouble growls, ** Well, maybe it's not important to you, but it's important 
  to me. ** She straightens, scrubs her eyes again, and settles to trying to 
  yank tangles out of her multihued hair,

"Names are important." He shrugs, now. "Which is why a good one should be 
  given first. Not supposed to change."

Trouble glowers at nothing in particular, but blushes again. ** Tell that to 
  my mother. ** Her tone goes low and bitter. ** She didn't want me. Almost 
  killed her when I was born. Didn't raise me either. **

"Not supposed to be that way." He has such a way with pointing out the 
  obvious. "I suspect that's what's wrong with you."

Trouble shrugs, attempting to look indifferent. ** Aye, well, so, it is that 
  way with me. ** Both her hands work now, fretfully, at untangling her hair.

"Eh. Hmm." He ponders again, looking thoughtfully at the mushroom. "What is it 
  you -want- to be?"

Trouble slides you a wary glance. ** What difference does it make? **

"It makes a good deal of difference." The mushroom is studied intently now. 
  "If you know what you want to be, it helps with what you are now. For 
  example. If I wanted this mushroom to be.. eh.." The moment of lucidity 
  passes, leaving Doreel rather clueless as to what he was about to say.

Trouble frowns. ** I _want_... ** She shrugs again, scowling, fiddling with 
  her hair. ** I want to be someone who has a mother who cares about her, and 
  has a real father! ** Harshly delivered words, edged with barely restrained 
  despair. The maiden looks away again.

Doreel's hand glows again, faintly, suffusing the shroom with golden light 
  that fades almost as quickly as it came. "I see."

Trouble send-mutters bluntly, ** Never had a father. Dart, he has a wonderful 
  father. Cutter's a good father, too. Everybody has a father but me. ** The 
  only thing that keeps her from sounding self-pitying is the almost clinical 
  timbre of her sending; she sounds more like she's simply relaying facts than 
  saying anything personal about herself.

"Father.. never had a daughter." Now he really does mumble to himself. "Good 
  father. Of course. Never had.."

Trouble frowns to herself at the old one's mutterings, and edges back slightly 
  from him. Once more she flexes her fingers, and that distracts her; her 
  frown remains as she realizes her digits feel more normal.

"Never had, never had." Doreel tsks softly, shaking his head. One last time 
  his hand glows, the shroom glowing with it. Then he straightens, apparently 
  becoming slightly less lost.

Trouble shrugs one shoulder, and offers starkly, ** Vanished just after he 
  Recognized my mother. **

Doreel shakes his head, sighing. "She left."

Trouble scowls at the grassy earth. ** Well, she didn't live at Willowholt. 
  Wildoak did... **

He sighs, softly, looking toward the sky. "She left, she did. Took the 
  daughter with her. Never came back."

Trouble turns her head back to face you, brow creasing in puzzlement, before 
  she realizes you're probably not talking about _her_ mother. ** Who? **

"Tasheya." He watches what little bit of sky is visable through the trees, 
  frowning faintly. "Left.. never came back.. never saw the daughter. She 
  never had a father."

Trouble blinks. Then, expression awkwardly shifting, softening a little, she 
  mutters, "Oh. Your mate?"

Doreel nods once or twice, quietly.

Trouble looks in several random directions, not knowing what to say, before 
  she finally just nods a little. ** Guess that explains some things. **

"Your mother.." Doreel looks down, fixing his gaze on you again. "What does 
  she look like?"

Startled by that question, Trouble looks up at you. ** Kind of like me. Um, 
  tall. Well, not tall to you. She's got red hair. **
Trouble shifts, fidgeting still. ** And grey eyes. **

Doreel nods thoughtfully. "Of course." This seems to make sense to him, 
  because he doesn't ask anything else. Just yet.

Trouble sends openly ** I, um, guess she looks kind of like Nightfall <an 
  image, of a brazen-haired huntress with a green scarf>. I look more like 
  Tyleet. **
Trouble pauses, then. ** Why do you ask? **

"Just wondering." He smiles, reassuringly. "Sometimes it helps to remember."

Trouble half-smirks. ** Not much. Not like Myriel keeps track of what I do 
  anyway. **

"You'd rather she did?" Now he raises an eyebrow.

Trouble flops belly-down on the grass, pillowing her chin on her folded arms. 
  "Don't care anymore," she mutters, huskily. "She won't change for me. I'll 
  just have to deal with it, or forget it."

"Forget it." Doreel repeats those words thoughtfully, nodding once or twice. 
  "I suppose you can do that, too."

Trouble stares at the nearby tree-trunks. The oddity of this mad one as a 
  sympathetic ear is not lost on her, and she still scowls a little, but 
  nevertheless, to simply have _someone_ to talk to, and not yell, like 
  Dart... she sighs. ** What would you do? **

Doreel turns that question over and about, sighing softly before he finally 
  answers. "I remember. Maybe I remember too much."

Trouble doesn't smile; nor does she smirk; the expression she settles on is a 
  brief mirthless flicker of one end of her mouth. ** Can't really forget it, 
  either. If I want to find my soulname I guess I have to deal with it. **

Doreel pokes gently at the mushroom he's still managed to hold onto. "Have to 
  deal with it anyway, eventually, don't you?"

Trouble nods, grudgingly. ** Aye. **
Trouble glances at the mushroom and gives another not-quite smirk. ** So 
  what's that one do? **

"Well, then." Doreel smiles now, very gently. "We'll see if maybe we can't 
  find something that will help you." He then raises an eyebrow. "This one? 
  Eh.. I'm not sure."

** Well, you were shaping it... what did you do to it? ** Trouble's brows draw 
  together over her nose.

"I'm not really sure." The thing is bounced gently in his hand. "Tried 
  something, but I don't know that it worked."

Trouble ohs. ** Don't know anything about shaping, ** she answers, and eyes 
  the tree's roots again.

Doreel tosses the shroom. It goes a distance, coming to rest on the edge of 
  the grove. "Probably didn't work." he sighs. "New things usually don't." His 
  gaze flicks over to Dart again, pausing there.

Trouble watches Dart sleep, herself, frowning lightly.
Trouble finally rolls over on her back and stares up at the branches overhead. 
  ** So what do you do here? **

Doreel blinks, looking back at you. "Me?" He shrugs a bit, shifting sitting 
  positions. "Tend the grove.. watch over the helpers."

Trouble's brow remains furrowed. "Well, what do _they_ do?"

"They, eh.." He pauses here, thinking. "They help."

** So all you do is... shape? And remember? ** Trouble studies you now, a 
  little less warily, expression more thoughtful. Then she lifts her hand and 
  peers at it.

Doreel shrugs a bit. That being the sum of the matter, he doesn't need to 
  answer it. His gaze drifts once more to Dart, and he abruptly changes the 
  subject. "Strongbow's son." Once again, it isn't a question, or even an 
  accusation. Merely a statement of fact.

Trouble sits up, slowly. ** Yes, ** she answers cautiously.

"Your.. your tribe." Now it's his turn to be suspicious. "Do they know you're 
  here?"

Trouble blinks. Then goes wary again, of face. ** Why? **

"Burned it the first time, they did, to get him back.." Doreel mutters to 
  himself. "Burn it again? Maybe."

Trouble sends, tentatively, ** I said we'd stay a while. **

"Burn it to get you back." He sighs, looking down at the grass.

Trouble studies the elder, unsurely. There's pain in that voice, and pain in 
  his expression; at last, she tells him, ** They don't know where we are. 
  Haven't known, since I, um, ran off. They... ** Her sending gains more 
  firmness. ** They won't burn your wood, if you don't harm us. **

"Find you, though." Doreel does not look up, only watches the emerald blades. 
  "They stay, go away, stay, go away.. oh Tasheya."

Trouble rises, slowly, after a cautious look to her feet to make sure they 
  don't tingle. And she steps carefully to the elder.
Trouble begins, ** I... said we'd stay a while. And if you don't harm us... if 
  we-we don't get hungry, like Rillwhisper and Strongbow did, I'll ask them 
  not to harm your trees. **

After a bit, the old one looks up. "Didn't hurt them." He points out rather 
  defensively.

Trouble sighs. ** Then I'll tell them not to bring fire here, alright? ** Her 
  face looks tired and strained, for some reason, and her tone reflects it.

Doreel nods once, slowly. He then nods to Dart. "You.. eh.. you ought to sleep 
  too."

Trouble rolls her shoulders, another shrug. ** I'll sleep when I'm sleepy. 
  I'm... too restless, right now. ** She fidgets, from foot to foot.

Doreel ohs softly, shrugging in return. He glances around, thoughtfully, then 
  attempts to pull himself to a standing position. "Restless." Shaking his 
  head, he continues. "Can't help that, I don't think."

Trouble steps back out of your way, and frowns down at her feet. ** The 
  tingles are gone. **

Doreel bobs his head in a nod of sorts. "They don't last forever. They're not 
  supposed to. You have to eat more of the mushrooms."

Trouble blinks. Her gaze drifts over to the patch, almost distractedly. ** 
  Oh... **

Doreel says "Would you like another?" Asks the shaper, looking first at you 
  and then at the patch. "Or maybe one of the fruits?""

Trouble licks her lips, slowly. ** I'm... a little thirsty, ** she tells you.
Trouble sends openly ** Maybe... maybe the fruit would be good. Juice in it... 
  **

Doreel ahs thoughtfully. "Juice. Eh. Well, you're welcome to them, then. Some 
  are better than others."

Trouble nods, absently, as though pondering how to execute that particular 
  motion of her head. ** Which? ** She lifts her gaze up to the overhanging 
  branches.

Hmmming to himself, Doreel looks around. "Those, I think." He points to one of 
  the trees. "And, eh.." Hmm.. "Those." He nods matter-of-factly. "Those are 
  Quickfire's favorite."

Trouble blinks, twice. ** Quickfire? **

"Quickfire." Repeating himself, he nods a bit. "Yes, Quickfire. He likes the 
  red ones."

Trouble lifts a hand to the red fruits indicated, picking one. ** Who's 
  Quickfire? **

"He's here, too." Doreel smiles to himself. "In the tree."

Trouble sniffs at the fruit experimentally, then blinks, looking back around 
  wide-eyedly. ** There's another elf here? **

Doreel folds his arms over his chest, nodding. He said that, didn't he? "Yes, 
  there's another elf here." Of course, this fact probably blows his sympathy 
  ploy, but oh well.

Trouble takes a bite of the fruit, and ohs, thinking. ** But you sounded so... 
  lonely. **

"I am lonely." He shrugs, glancing skyward again. "Been alone for more turns 
  than I can count."

Trouble nods slowly as she nibbles, and sends, once again awkwardly, ** We'll, 
  um, stay a while... **

Doreel doesn't quite smile. "I know."

Trouble takes her time with the red fruit, sucking on mouthfuls of it as she 
  goes, for the juice. ** It's good... **
Trouble sends openly ** Will... we see Quickfire? **

"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't." Doreel looks over toward the tree, 
  thoughtfully. "If he didn't sleep so much, you probably would have seen him 
  by now."

Trouble follows your gaze to the tree, as she eats the fruit. Then she smirks. 
  ** Why's he sleep? **

Doreel hmmms at that one, rubbing his chin. "Oh, I don't know."

[Bemused about the other elf in the grove, Trouble tries, but fails, to get
 any more information out of Doreel about Quickfire. Doreel himself retreats
 into his own private ramblings, and the huntress, left to her own devices,
 decides to take the ancient's advice and rest. End log.]