Log Date: 10/16, 10/23/96
Log Cast:
	Dart, Trouble, Quickfire, Doreel

Dart paces the clearing like a caged wolf, carrying on an involved 
  conversation with himself as he considers where he's at and how to get out. 
  Audible snippets "How''re we going..." "If he finds out..." "I don't want to 
  go near those..."

Trouble is nowhere in immediate sight, and hasn't been, ever since the 
  argument between her travelling companion and their... host. Sulking, 
  perhaps. Certainly when she vanished off across the grove, the huntress had 
  looked quite perturbed.

Dart halts his pacing to take a look around, he grumbles loudly and continues 
  the pace. He says loudly, "I'm _not_ going tramp around here looking for 
  you, Trouble. Not with those things prowling around."
Dart says "I suppose you're planning on staying here with him, aren't you?"

The trail of the maiden's scent winds off around the central tree; from that 
  direction, after a few moments, comes a sending from her. ** I promised I'd 
  stay for a little while if he healed you. ** Her tone is short and sharp.

Dart says "I don't care if you promised to join with him from dusk to dawn for 
  the rest of your days, we can't stay here!"
Dart says "_And_ your days are getting a whole lot shorter, Doreel said 
  there's no meat here."

Trouble doesn't answer immediately; when she does, her tone has turned 
  sharper, suggesting that although she's not in sight she's very likely 
  blushing hotly. ** And with only eight arrows and my bow between us, how do 
  you plan on getting past the spiders? **

"Well if someone runs the right way this time..." he leaves his statement 
  dangling knowing full well the effect it'll generate.

Sparked with fury, Trouble's sending lashes back in reply, ** I got your 
  blasted arrows for you like you asked! ** There is a slight thump as of her 
  body dropping down out of branches, and after a moment, she comes stalking 
  into sight from behind the tree, her face white and set. ** What else was I 
  supposed to? Did you want me to leave you here as food for those things? **

Dart says "You were supposed to get out of here and at least try to get some 
  help"

Trouble yells, "I _found_ help! We haven't seen any other elves in moons!"

Dart says "You knew about Doreel and you were supposed to get out of the 
  grove, not go deeper in!"

Both Trouble's fists clench. "Where was I supposed to go, then? All the way 
  back to Lostholt? Or maybe you'd have preferred me to take all the time to 
  go to Sorrow's End, get Mender, come all the way back here, and Howl for you 
  not having anything left of you but a wrapstuffed pile of bones!"

"You don't understand a thing do you!?" He stabs a thumb to his chest, "I'm 
  worth a whole lot more alive to Doreel, he can get back at my sire if he 
  keeps me here long enough."
Dart scowls, "I'm nothing more than bait for a trap. He didn't heal me because 
  of your promise, he healed me because of whose son I am."
Dart says "At least if you'd gotten away there'd be a better chance of getting 
  out of here."

Exasperated, Trouble explodes, "Timmorn's Blood, of COURSE he couldn't have 
  healed you just because you were full of spider poison, or because I 
  promised to actually stay around and talk with him instead of treating him 
  like the next Winnowill! Nobody ever does ANYTHING with you unless it's 
  because of your sire! I suppose next you'll be telling me that the only 
  reason I let you come with me in the first place was because Strongbow's 
  your sire!" She then looses a mirthless bark of laughter. "High Ones, Dart, 
  the nearest healer I know about is at least two eights of days away! Do you 
  really think the spiders would have let you stay wrapped that long?"

Dart glares at you for a few moments, but his expression gradually softens to 
  a frown. "Doreel's not just anyone and you know it. There are enough in this 
  world that look at me and see Dart instead of one of Strongbow's cubs." He 
  points towards the large tree in the center of the grove, "He might see me 
  as Dart like some do, but he also sees my sire and a way to get to him." His 
  features darken again, "I've left my tribe, I've left my home, and I've put 
  my life on hold to make sure you stay safe and come into your own. I've 
  yelled at my freinds, put my cub in a position he neither wanted or was 
  ready for for longer time than I had ever wanted. There's one thing for 
  certain, I won't let you get hurt because of foolishness or my problems. I 
  didn't care wether the spiders sucked me dry or not, I thought you had 
  gotten away... that was enough."

Trouble's face remains stubbornly set as you begin to speak. As you continue, 
  and as you seem to relax, her own expression falters a little, the hot glare 
  in her green eyes subsiding. At last, blushing just a bit, she glances away 
  and mutters, "I... didn't want to go, get help, and come back... only to 
  find you dead."

Dart's scowl fades to a blank expression, "It'll take a lot more than a hand 
  or two of spiders to kill me. I've been close enough to dying once to know 
  what it takes to make a wolf give up fighting."

[And meanwhile....]

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

Quickfire clambers down from the central tree, a hand on his head.

The grove's keeper kneels under a tree not far from that central tree, hands 
  tangled in the grass just before him.

Quickfire looks around, confused, unsure of where he is, he stumbles down the 
  last couple of steps, landing in the grass on his face.

Doreel looks up, eventually, and over towards the tree. He watches Quickfire 
  distantly for a few moments, shakes his head, and bows it once again.

Quickfire rubs his head and sits up, he grabs for a stick to use as a staff 
  and drags himself to his feet.

Doreel sits motionless again, only the faint glow of the ground before him 
  giving any sign that the old elf hasn't actually fallen asleep.

Quickfire looks over at Doreel,he starts to remember where he is...

Nothing else in the grove moves. .. Or does it?

Quickfire looks around, nervously, his vision is still apparently blurry, he 
  shakes out his head.

Doreel still doesn't move. In fact, he barely breathes. Now while there isn't 
  anything quite so boring as still-life, the old one never really does -just- 
  sit there.

Quickfire watches Doreel curiously, and then hobbles over towards him.

The closer one gets, the more apparent what the ancient elf is doing becomes. 
  His hands glow, as do some blades of grass, but more intense is the golden 
  glow that illuminates the mushrooms in a circle around him.

Quickfire stands over Doreel's shoulder leaning on his staff, watching the 
  ancient one shaping.

The glow fades quite abruptly. "Quickfire."

Quickfire jumps slightly, "Huh?"

Doreel looks up again, retracting his hands from the grass. He turns a 
  little, shifting positions so that he sits in the center of the ring, rather 
  than kneeling in it. "You're awake." He's -so- good at pointing out the 
  obvious.

Quickfire nods, "How long have I been sleeping... it seems like an eternity."

"Long enough." Doreel doesn't quite smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Quickfire rubs his head "A bit fuzzy headed, like after eating too many dream 
  berries, but other than that, I'm fine."

Doreel hmms thoughtfully, nodding once or twice. He looks intently at 
  Quickfire, folding his hands together. "It isn't unpleasant, then?"

Quickfire hmms and shakes his head slightly, "No... disorienting.. Not that 
  that is anything new for me.

Doreel nods again.

Quickfire pushes his hair back away from his face, "You are growing more 
  mushrooms? Same as the one I ate before?"

The other shakes his head, glancing toward said shrooms. "No. These are.. 
  different."

Quickfire ohs and nods, "I think that I'm going to stay away from these if 
  I've been sleeping for so long that I dont remeber how long."

Doreel chuckles softly, really to himself. He glances off toward the far end 
  of the grove, nodding another time. "These aren't for you."

Quickfire ohs and nods and sits down in the grass, still apparently woozy. A 
  smirk crosses his face, "Have you managed to lure someone else in here to 
  test your magical shrooms, old one?"

"I didn't lure them here." Doreel looks almost slightly offended. "Didn't test 
  the mushrooms on them, either."

Quickfire smiles slightly "I was just..." he shakes his head, seemingly the 
  joke was lost on the elf.

Apparently, it was. In any event, Doreel looks down at the mushrooms again. 
  "These are to.. help."

Quickfire says "Help? How?"
Quickfire looks curious.

Doreel contemplates the question for a moment, reaching out to touch one of 
  the faintly purple caps. "Just to help."

Quickfire looks over at the shrooms, "They are strange looking."

"What colour are dreamberries?" Doreel glances up again, quirking an eyebrow.

Quickfire says "Uhmm... Purplish."

"Purple." He frowns, now. "What kind of purple?"

Quickfire hmms and sends a weak image of what a dreamberry looks like.
Quickfire says "Kind of like that."

Doreel frowns thoughtfully, looking yet again at the shroom. "Alright."

Quickfire says "Why?"

"Nevermind.."

Quickfire shrugs slightly and nods, his gaze flickering around the grove, he 
  then spots Trouble, "Uhm... who is that?"

Trouble can be seen across the grove, apparently conversing hotly with another 
  elf; the taller one, the male with the dark skin, scowls and whirls, 
  stalking off into the trees. The maiden, tall herself, pale of skin with a 
  thatch of multihued reddish-gold hair, stalks towards the center of the 
  grove.

Quickfire glances back at Doreel, holding up two of his remaining fingers 
  "Two of them?"

Doreel ehs? glancing off toward the designated who. Silent for a time, he 
  watches her, then nods to himself. "That's.. eh.." He pauses, frowning to 
  himself. "Visitors."

Quickfire says "You don't remember her name?"
Quickfire looks at Doreel, slightly bemused.

Doreel frowns ever so faintly. "Of course I remember it."

Quickfire quirks a brow, "Well then."
Quickfire has a teasing tone in his voice, perhaps an effect of the mushrooms'
  long effect on him.

Trouble comes into earshot, and once she spies the two elves by the central 
  tree, she pauses, frowning.

Quickfire smirks, "I think she's frowning at you for not remembering her name 
  old one."

"Trouble," says Doreel, still frowning faintly. "Her name is Trouble."

Trouble crosses her arms, and eyes the stranger -- who must be the Quickfire 
  that Doreel had mentioned before. But what she says is clearly directed to 
  Doreel: "Dart thinks you're going to harm us, and use him to get back at his 
  sire. He wants to leave."

Quickfire quirks a brow, and listens, curious.

"Do you think I'm going to do that?" Doreel folds his hands together, looking 
  toward the she-elf. "Surely you have some say in things."

Trouble replies bluntly, "I promised you I'd stay with you for a time, and you 
  haven't harmed us yet." Her green eyes glint, though, as she stares now at 
  the old elf rather than the other visitor.

Quickfire points at Doreel, "Hrm anyone? Him? I could never imagine. He's 
  practically a high one."

Doreel sighs quietly, reaching out to poke at one of the mushrooms with a 
  long, pale finger. "If I were going to hurt either of you, would I have done 
  it by now?"

Trouble flicks a curt look at Quickfire, then back to Doreel. "You tell me," 
  she says, still bluntly. "You haven't harmed either of us yet, as I said."

Quickfire seems distraught at the thought of Doreel ever hurting anyone..

Doreel's fingertip glows for a moment when he touches it to the shroom's cap, 
  then fades as he retracts it. "I wouldn't hurt you."

You say "Neither me, nor Dart?"

Doreel nods once.

Quickfire says "He's never done a thing to harm me. I would trust him with my 
  life."

That seems to satisfy the maiden, for her stern expression relaxes, at least 
  somewhat. "Then I'll tell Dart we'll stay a time. We'll have to, anyway, to 
  figure out a safe way past the spiders."

Quickfire says "Running always works."

Doreel glances sideways at Quickfire, shaking his head sadly. "When the time 
  comes for you to go, I will help you past them."

Trouble smirks, a bit. "Didn't work for Dart." She flicks her regard back to 
  Doreel. "Dart and I will also need to figure out a way to hunt meat in these 
  woods. If the spiders can do it, so can we. If you want us to stay, we'll 
  have to hunt."

Quickfire says "You tried cutting open some of the cocoons nearer to the edge 
  of the grove?"

Trouble frowns, considering. "No. But if the spider poison taints the kills..."

"You'll be able to hunt," puts in Doreel. "If it's tainted, I'll help."

Quickfire hmms and shrugs slightly, licking his lips, "Was fine by my palate."

Trouble studies the two elves, then nods, slowly. "I'll tell Dart, then." She 
  pauses, then adds gruffly, "Thank you."

Doreel smiles almost fondly, now, nodding once. "You're welcome."

Quickfire smirks slightly as he watches the two.

Trouble turns, glancing over her shoulder. Dart has vanished off across the 
  grove, and Trouble frowns to herself, as she apparently sends to him. Her 
  shoulders slump, slightly.

"Is something wrong?" Doreel quirks a pale brow, watching Trouble.

The huntress smirks, but doesn't meet the old one's eyes. "Dart still doesn't 
  trust you. He's looking for a path out of the grove." Her voice has dropped.

Quickfire says "Why leave the grove? The old one is nearly a high one, the 
  grove is peaecful and gaurded from humans."

Trouble turns to look at Quickfire again. "Not my Holt," she says, tone rough, 
  words a little too rapid. "Not Dart's, either."

Quickfire says "It was not my home either when I first got here, but now, it 
  is."
Quickfire says "As long as the ancient allows me to stay."

Doreel sits, quietly, and listens to the exchange.

Trouble's brow furrows. "Do you have... a family anywhere?" she asks of 
  Quickfire.

Quickfire shakes his head, his brow winkles slightly for a moment, "It does 
  not matter now, I have not need of another family other than the high one."
Quickfire motions towards Doreel.
Quickfire says "My family, my tribe shunned me, this one, he accepts me and 
  allows me to stay."

Doreel again quirks an eyebrow, apparently not quite ready for that admission. 
  He blinks once, and twice, then shrugs a bit.

Trouble's green gaze shifts between the two elves, and something that might 
  almost be a wistful look flickers across her face. "Glad... to hear it," she 
  mutters, after a moment.

Quickfire says "Hopefully I'll eventaully be able to learn from him, and then 
  go out into the world and teach others what I have learned."

Doreel looks curiously at Quickfire for just a moment before shifting his 
  attentions back to the mushrooms.

[And back with Dart...]

Dart is staring into the grove, fidgetting nervously. Lostholt could probably 
  hear the chieftain's stomach rumbling.
Dart sends openly ** Have to get out of here..and soon. **

Trouble can be seen off across the Grove with the master of the place -- and 
  another elf. At the sending, she looks at the other two, then comes toward 
  Dart, warily. Once she's in earshot, she says, softly, "Quickfire had a plan 
  for getting us food..."

Dart whirls around to look at Trouble, "Meat or.. or more fruit that he's 
  tampered with?"

Trouble scowls. "Quickfire _said_," she snaps, "that we could try cutting open 
  some of the cocoons near the edge of the trees, to get meat out."

Dart says "It'll be tainted by the spiders..."

Trouble crosses her arms. "Doreel promised to cleanse it."

Dart sneers, "He won't clean it, he'll make it worse."

Trouble's scowl deepens, and she snaps back, "Timmorn's Blood, Dart, you don't 
  kknow that! He promised he wouldn't harm us, how's he supposed to keep his 
  word if you don't even give him a chance?"

Dart grabs you by the shoulders hard, "We can't stay here, we'll end up like 
  Father and Rillwhisper!"

Setting herself firmly against being shaken, Trouble scowls even more, and 
  hisses at you in sending, ** Yes, we will, if we're so hidebound that we 
  can't allow a chance when we see it! What's wrong with trying the cocoons? 
  Make Doreel eat the meat, too, if you don't trust him! **

Dart growls, his anger brought on more from hunger than actual distrust, "I'm 
  not going to suffer here like my sire did, and I won't let you suffer 
  either."

Trouble rolls her eyes. ** _Strongbow_ didn't try this idea, and _you_ haven't 
  answered my question! What's wrong with trying the cocoons? **

Dart sends openly ** What's wrong with trying the cocoons!? Who know's what 
  he's done to them since the spiders made them! And the spiders? you think 
  they just asked nicely to wrap up what's inside!? **
Dart sends openly ** Doreel won't take the poison out, not when he can heal 
  himself of it. **

Trouble clenches her fists. ** How many times do I have to say it? He promised 
  not to harm us!	**

Dart sends openly ** He could swear til he was blue in the face that he won't, 
  I don't care! We can't stay here! **

** I _promised_. ** Trouble's eyes blaze. ** Did it ever occur to you that if 
  we try to make friends with him, maybe, just maybe, we could get him 
  _healed_? **

Dart takes a long deep breath. If Newstar were here she'd likely yell 
  something to the effect of 'take cover' but since she's not.... His tone 
  starts out softly, growing in volume with each word, "Did you _every_ think 
  that maybe HE'll lie to get you to stay here with him1? Did you ever think 
  that maybe he doesn't want to be healed of his madness!? DID YOU EVER THINK 
  THAT MAYBE ONE OF THESE DAY'S HE'LL GET SICK OF YOUR PRESENCE AND KILL YOU 
  OR TOSS YOU TO THE SPIDERS?!"
Dart continues his rant, "How can you even think about staying here, you told 
  me that Cutter and the elders forbid any one from coming here. Don't you 
  think they might've had a good reason for making rules like that?! What do 
  you think they'll say if they find out where we are!?"

Trouble watches you through all of this, her expression stubbornly set, her 
  gaze hot. ** I'm staying because I promised I would, you idiot, because he 
  saved your life! ** she finally lashes back.

Dart switches to sends, ** FINE! Keep your promise, do whatever you want! Like 
  I ever slowed you down! I'm getting out of here and getting out of here NOW! 
  ** He leans to one side to look around Trouble at the grove's master, ** Not 
  even your cursed spiders will stop me, Doreel. **

Trouble freezes, then, her eyes glittering. Finally, gruffly, she barks out, 
  "Go, then," and whirls away, clutching her arms to herself.

Dart let's got of your shoulders roughly, giving you a bit of a shove. Turning 
  on his heel, his takes off in a sprint. heading the opposite direction of 
  the way he remembers stumbling in.
Dart leaves the grove behind with a sigh, heading towards the edge of the 
  forest.
Dart has left.

[And after Dart goes...]

Doreel, having sent Quickfire off to find meat, sits once again in the center 
  of his latest crop of mushrooms, contemplating them.

The shouting voices, and equally angry sends, from across the grove have 
  subsided. Trouble remains standing there, hugging herself, eyes clenched 
  tightly shut.

Trouble trembles, violently, and struggles to keep herself from doing so. _He 
  left, I can't believe he left, my fault why couldn't I make him understand 
  he left..._

The grove's ancient tender stays non-intrusive, quiet. His attention, and 
  maybe his thoughts, stay centered on the mottled surface of a particularly 
  large dusky purple shroom most directly in front of him. Perchance he waits, 
  mayhaps he bides his time.

After a time the maiden, still trembling, still taut and distraught of 
  expression, looks up. Seeing Doreel, she swallows, then impulsively heads 
  toward him.
Trouble blurts out huskily, voice roughened with tears, "Dart's left, I guess 
  you heard all that, didn't you?"

The other nods once, looking up and fixing a terribly calm, if faintly 
  distant, sky blue gaze on the troubled one. "I did." He says, softly.

Trouble's own eyes are damp with the same tears that have rougened her voice. 
  "I just... wanted to tell you that I know what the tribe has s-said about 
  you, and, I want t-to give you a chance to prove you can be f... friendly, 
  so I-I'm still going to stay!" Clearly, she is struggling to sound firm, but 
  she continues to shake. And weep.

Doreel tsks softly, watching. "I thank you for that.." He trails off, 
  unfolding his hands. "Though I'm sorry your choice has caused you such 
  grief."

Trouble opens her mouth as if to speak, but does not. She simply trembles 
  harder, and more tears course down her cheeks.
Trouble then groans out, "He left, c-can't believe he left, th-the spiders, 
  they're going to..." Her eyes wild, she turns, staring at the trees as if 
  considering bolting into them..

He sighs quietly, looking away from you now, gaze drifting again to the growth 
  in front of him. "He left. If he goes fast enough, perhaps they won't catch 
  him."

Trouble babbles hoarsely, "Yes... perhaps... if he runs...." She slowly sinks 
  to the earth, curling her arms around herself again, and sobbing.

Oh dear.. she's crying again. Doreel frowns, possibly to himself, glancing 
  over at you again. "You shouldn't worry so much about him.. obviously he 
  didn't worry about you.."

Trouble wails, "He said he did!" Rocking back and forth where she sits, she 
  rambles on, "I-I-I should make sure he gets out alright... but, but, but, 
  I-I can't outrun the spiders, I-I-I..."

Doreel timidly reaches out a hand, pausing a bit before frowning. "If only 
  there was something I could do.." He pauses, going much quieter. "It's 
  terrible.. being left.."

Trouble quivers like a leaf; should your hand actually rest on her, you can 
  feel her shuddering convulsively. She doesn't look up, as she continues to 
  sob. "He doesn't understaaaaaand!"

"Shhhh.. I know." Gently his fingertips come to rest on wherever happens to be 
  closest. "They never do."

Touching her seems to be safe enough; she doesn't try to knock your hand away, 
  though she does jerk a little at the brush of fingers against her 
  leather-clad shoulder. But she also turns towards you, still sobbing 
  vehemently.

Doreel watches you intently for a minute, frowning to himself. Then he rubs, 
  gently, there on your shoulder. "They go away when they don't want you. They 
  didn't want me.." This is said mostly to himself.. but it is indeed said.

Trouble looks up miserably. "D-Dart said he wanted me..." she whispers.

"But he left." Again, the obvious is stated.

Tears well up anew in Trouble's green eyes, and quite without warning, she 
  flings herself at you, buries her face against your shoulder, and sobs.

The old one starts, blinking as you do. But then he sighs, quietly, folding 
  his arms around you and hugging you gently, smoothing out your hair with one 
  hand and rubbing your back with the other.

Trouble cries, until she seems to cry herself out. Still huddling in the hug, 
  she lifts her head a little, and mumbles embarrassedly, "I-I'm sorry..."

Just faintly red-faced, Doreel shakes his head. "Don't be?" Okay, so maybe he 
  isn't terribly sure of that himself, but still.

Trouble whispers, "I-I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I never cried s... 
  so much before..."

Doreel sighs softly, nodding. His eyes cloud for a moment, looking distant, 
  somewhere beyond the trees at the edge of the grove. "Cry when they leave.."

Trouble sits up a little, looking abashedly down at herself.

After another pause, Doreel leans sideways to pick the mushroom that had held 
  his attention before. He looks thoughtfully at it, and then at you. "I can 
  help this time, I think."

Trouble scrubs her hand across her eyes, and blinks at you.

Doreel offers the shroom, looking if anything slightly embarrassed again. 
  "Here."

Trouble sniffles a little and asks, "That... another one that does the 
  fizzies?"

Doreel shakes his head. "It shouldn't."

Another sniffle. "What's it do?" Her voice is still low and hoarse.

"It'll make all the trouble go away." He almost smiles.

Trouble blinkblinks, and takes the shroom, sniffing at it, tearily.
Trouble mumbles, "It's dreamberry colored."

Doreel nods a little.

This shroom, unlike the fizzies, has a scent. It smells.. well, it smells 
  purple. And maybe blue. And even sort of like twilight.

Trouble pauses at the strange odor of the thing... it smells like colors? "I 
  wouldn't mind being drunk for once, right now," she mumbles, and 
  experimentally, she takes a nibble.

The flesh of the thing melts in your mouth, its flavour not at all unplesant, 
  although it isn't exactly comparable to anything. The shaper watches, 
  curious.

Trouble tells you hoarsely, "I-I'm going to trust you on this, alright?" And 
  bites at the shroom, chewing slowly.

Doreel does smile now, nodding. "I know."

That mushroom tastes like everything and nothing, all at the same time. The 
  more of it you eat, the more that becomes obvious. Also becoming apparent, 
  though more slowly, is the sensation of floating.

Trouble's face gradually calms, and she blinks, once. ** Blue, ** she sends 
  vaguely, then looks at you again. ** It smells like blue... **

Doreel tips his head slightly to one side. "Does it?"

Trouble finishes the shroom, swallows, and drops her hands to her lap. Her 
  gaze drops slightly to the earth, and for a moment she looks surprised, as 
  if not expecting to find herself still sitting there. ** <assent> I feel... 
  like I'm floating... **

"Do you?" Still he watches you, not moving. At least he's not supposed to be 
  moving. He's just getting fuzzy. Yes, fuzzy.. not fizzy.

Trouble's brow furrows a little, as she watches her vision unfocus. "What..." 
  Her mouth seems dry, and she licks her lips before continuing, "What does... 
  this do?"
Trouble then affirms, placidly, "Floating..."

Doreel smiles, somewhere.. "You tell me what it does."

As the grove seems to grow strangely distant around her, Trouble blinks very 
  slowly, and lowers each hand to the ground to support herself. "I... like 
  the floating," she hears herself say. Then she remembers: "I feel better 
  now... maybe... I could look for Dart, if I'm not upset..."

"Wouldn't you rather stay here.. with me?" Folding his hands in his lap, 
  Doreel frowns faintly. "You wanted to find something else, didn't you? 
  Something other than Trouble?"

Trouble starts to nod, then sways a little as it makes her surroundings blur 
  more noticeably. "Yes... I want... something else... promised I'd stay...."

Let the mushroom help you find it. .. Maybe he says it, maybe he sends it.. or 
  maybe the ingested shroom has something to do with it?

Trouble says slowly, "I was looking for my soulname...." Fascinatedly, she 
  gazes at you, and adds in sending that your face seems to be intriguingly 
  softened around its edges.

Doreel watches you still, quietly. "That name would be inside you, would it 
  not?" He tips his head to the other side. "Find it."

"I'm.... how... I'm floating?" She sounds unsure. "How can... I go inside...?"

"Try."

Trouble's eyes half-close, and she sends blurred agreement. Look inside self. 
  Her send ripples out of her, bringing an impression of turning her attention 
  to the blue-purple-twilight shades in her thoughts, and how she... floats. 
  The grove diminishes in her consciousness. Look inside self...

Look inside.. yes, do. Things over there, on the fringes of your 
  consciousness, things that are not readily familiar and yet somehow might 
  possibly belong. But do they? These things are coloured by the mushroom, as 
  it were. Maybe.

Trouble considers what would be flashes of memory if they moved quickly in her 
  mind; these, though, flow like a slow-running stream. Memories of Self, of 
  Holt and den and hunt... but what's that, those other shapes in her 
  awareness?
Trouble begins, her voice softened, slurred, "I... see... I remember..."
Trouble's brow then furrows ever so vaguely. "Mother.... dark inside Mother..."

Amongst your memories sit those other things, things that feel like memories, 
  but they are fragmented, like pieces of cloth frayed around the edges. 
  Images of this place, in another time.. other elves.. most prominent among 
  them is a she-elf who is not ever very distinct.. sometimes she resembles 
  Rillwhisper, and other times her features are more those that would belong 
  to Myriel, and at other times still they are neither..

"Want me to come out... but... hurts..." Trouble frowns, anxiously. Then her 
  head begins to tilt, as she ponders these fragments of recollection. She 
  breathes, "Mo... mother?"

Doreel stays terribly quiet, observing.

Trouble murmurs liquidly, "Why... why is she... changing?"

Is it Mother? Is this what you remember? It would be so easy to accept it, to 
  believe it, wouldn't it? .. The features change, melting between the three 
  individuals, each shift becoming slightly less dramatic than the one before 
  it. It blends, becoming fuzzy like the outside is.

Trouble blinks a time or two, confused, but finally accepts the indistinct 
  image, fuzzy those it is; it yet retains a feel of 'motherness', and this 
  makes the maiden whisper longingly, "Mother..."

As it is accepted, the image becomes a shade clearer, but not so much that it 
  no longer melts in. And there is a name to accompany it. Tasheya. The 
  twilight wavers, there. That's right, isn't it?

Trouble frowns a little, and sends to you, baffled.
Trouble sends openly ** M... mother's... different? **

"Mother left long ago." So says Doreel, quietly. "Left and didn't come back. 
  Took the daughter with her. My daughter."

Trouble's eyes well over in tears. "Left you," she mumbles.

Doreel nods once, quietly.

Trouble reels slightly, then blinks at herself, as surprised by this surge of 
  sympathy as she was by the floating... the floating. Her frown lessens.
Trouble sends openly ** Strange.... dream, if Mother's... different... 
  what.... I need to look more? **

"Do you want to look more?"

Trouble starts to nod, then utters a tiny giggle. ** Dizzy, ** she sends, 
  obediently reporting effects.

"Perhaps you should lie down." As he speaks, the other reaches for another one 
  of the mushrooms, his hand glowing briefly as he picks it and hands it to 
  you.

Trouble agrees dreamily, ** Lie down... ** She shifts, feeling for the ground; 
  unsteadily, she lowers herself to it, to stretch out before you. As your 
  hand shimmers, she stares at it, following its path into her immediate line 
  of sight.
Trouble lifts her hand to the shroom, and as it's offered, closes her fingers 
  around it and brings it to her mouth, chewing languorously.

Doreel smiles faintly, withdrawing his hand and settling back to watch you.

Trouble's features go utterly tranquil, as she consumes the second shroom; at 
  last, her hand drops slowly down to lie across her chest.

The blue-violetness is there again, auratic. A new form is there, waiting for 
  you to find it, this one larger than the first ones were.

You locksend to Doreel, Trouble sends, liquidly, telling you that the canopy 
  of branches overhead seems to be... spinning.... turning in a slow and 
  stately circle. A great wheel of branches, turning. And she peers through 
  the blue-violet sparkles in her head, spotting the new shape in her dream, 
  and studying it curiously.

Doreel reaches out again to rest a hand on your shoulder, his fingers glowing 
  faintly once more. His mind reaches as well, yet manages to remain distant, 
  almost as though he weren't really here anymore.

That shape.. it is rougher than the first, newly cut and patched from many 
  things.. a fire, is it? A seperation, though of whom is up to 
  interpretation, though it seems that he is involved and that the she-elf.. 
  Tasheya, is it? ..is there as well. Something echoes up out of the shadows.. 
  a certain loneliness.. so terribly familiar. You're missing something, but 
  what is it?

Trouble lies peacefully still now, barely blinking as you touch her. Her eyes 
  close softly, though, and her head turns slightly to you. In her sending, 
  which remains trustingly open to you, she floats through blue-violet 
  shimmers of light and pauses as the fire-shape makes itself known. Her mind 
  ripples in dismay at the loneliness, and at the thought that she is missing 
  something. She _was_ looking. For... for... a name. Yes. Her adult name, and 
  her soulname... so that she could go Home....

Find your name and go home.. or find your name and find that you -are- home. 
  Are they really that different? Maybe. Or, maybe not.

Trouble floats, and sways in the floating. Find her name. The thought fills 
  her with longing, and so does the thought of a Home. Drawn, she drifts 
  towards the fire-shape, captivated.

Doreel again gently rubs your shoulder, flickers of magic spilling out and 
  into you, not serving any purpose other than to soothe. And he watches, 
  quietly, somewhat dreamy himself.

Trouble's already tranquil face changes slightly, a soft smile curving her 
  mouth, as the soothing flickers enter her. She feels so calm... so good. 
  Assured, she reaches for the fire-shape, trying to touch it.

There seem to be three flavours to this new shape.. the one is old, very old, 
  before the sorrow paints it, a remembrance of happiness, of belonging. The 
  second is the very newest, the rending, the burning, seperation. The third 
  is most familiar, much newer than the first, and yet not quite so much as 
  the one just before it. This one seems tinged with belonging as well, but it 
  is missing something. When it is touched some of the shadows clear away, and 
  it seems to beckon you to fill the holes in the weave.

Trouble sends dreamily of the memory-fragments she can see: herself, learning 
  the bow... a council, of the tribe... wolves. Hopefully, she tries to nudge 
  a memory or two into those holes; perhaps this will lead her to her 
  soulname. The thought fills her with pleasure.

Those fall into place behind the shape, lacing into the edges, smoothing them 
  out.

Trouble sends a blurred trickle of happiness to you, and in childlike 
  entrancement, 'reaches' through the blue-violet to touch the lacing edges.

They are sticky, and cling to you, seeking to become a part of you. The colour 
  melts away, or some of it does, fading the whole of it slightly.

Trouble, or perhaps the Trouble-in-sending, tilts her head in slight 
  disappointment at the fading of color. But she watches the lacework cling to 
  her, and does not forbid it; still quite fascinated, she lifts a hand in her 
  thoughts, watching the lacework weight her limb's movement.
Trouble giggles, without opening her mouth; she simply quivers a little under 
  your glowing touch. ** Wrapstuff... **

It flows, running in slow, softly toned runnels down your 'hand'. The emotions 
  remain the same, the play of belonging into seperation into not-belonging 
  washing together. The coating smoothes itself out, the flow pulling itself 
  out, until it becomes comparable perhaps to a glove. The healer's hand 
  follows the line of your arm, onto the hand corresponding to the one in your 
  mind, slow and soft.

Now, though, the blue-purple begins to fade, like fog melting away, too slow 
  to watch, but obvious as it continues.

Trouble's real hand has lifted slightly, off her chest; your hand's slight 
  weight on it presses it gently back again. In her mind, Trouble stares in 
  wonder at her encoated hand, and moves it slightly through the blue-violet 
  light. ** Pretty... **
Trouble then blinks, slowly. ** Going...? No... Don't... **

"It doesn't last forever.. not yet, anyway."

Trouble opens her eyes and tries to focus on you, at the sound of your voice. 
  Her brow furrows, and she sends wordless, slurred disappointment.

Another mushroom is offered, even as the effects of the first two begin to 
  wear off. ** You have to look, now. **

Trouble cannot manage the effort of speaking, but she can manage to lift her 
  heavy hands to the mushroom held over her. ** Have to look, ** she echoes 
  pliantly, as she begins to nibble again....

[End log.]