From: owner-lostholt-l@murkworks.net on behalf of Wolf031877@aol.com Sent: Thursday, December 24, 1998 1:58 AM To: lostholt-l@murkworks.net Subject: [lostholt-l] [Log] Suntop Speaks Out (Part 1 of 2) Synopsis: Well, let's see here. The season's currently late autumn, and it's already been nearly a whole turn since the Olbar humans invaded and took over Sorrow's End. But not long before that happened, Suntop had been irked that he was told by Cutter to stay put until Newgreen when he'd wished to go to Sorrow's End. Then, the humans did their thing and Suntop became quite upset that he couldn't have been there to try and help. For a time, it seemed Suntop's anger died down, but he soon got the desire to travel to the Palace, where the surviving Sunfolk are staying. However, with whitecold approaching again, and with Cutter and Flashfire gathering up some wood for the firepit, Suntop shows up, intent on leaving. Perhaps inevitably, trouble follows. Players: Cutter, Flashfire (logger's perspective), Suntop, Clearbrook, Nightfall, Treestump, Violet. Logged December 23, 1998 (Merry Christmas!). Note: Suntop's also got a log from his own point of view (with some things this log won't have, naturally). He plans to post it once he's able to edit it. Also, AOL's not very agreeable when it comes to sending anything much larger than 10 pages (it prefers larger things to be sent as attached files, but they don't look right when some people get them), and since this log is 12 pages, I'm sending two 6-page sections. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Base of the Lost Holt Father Tree A dense grove of grotesquely shaped trees dominated by one immense Grandfather of a tree whose age is no less great than its size. It is obvious that the old tree has survived a terrible tragedy and you can see some of the scars left by the terrible blaze on the branches as leaves turn yellow as flame and red as blood. Brown weeds and night blooming wildflowers lie dead or dying in natural disorder around the trees roots. Like old friends, the gnarled trees embrace one another, their many branches entwining to form a canopy high above the ground, though most of the leaves now decorate the ground and crunch under your feet. It is a cool autumn afternoon. The father tree is quiet as elves and wolves sleep in their dens. Contents: Bearpaw Cutter Twotoes Cobweb Patience Skylark SafeRunner Obvious exits: Into the Tree(N) Around the Tree(AT) Clearing(S) Flashfire wanders in from around one side of the father tree, looking around. Perhaps to see if the wolf pups he played with the other night are out. Would you settle for a wolfchief instead? Cutter, all six foot of him, is coming back from the clearing with an armload of wood for the fire that will be built here. Ooh. Wolfchief even better. Probably. At least a question or two might be answered. Flashfire notes the tall, tall elf at work and waves a greeting, heading closer. "Heya..what's going on?" Cutter smiles a moment before stooping to put his armload in the pit itself. He straightens and dusts his hands clean of clinging bark. "Just gathering wood, so we're warm enough." "Want some help?" Flashfire offers, thinking if accepted, the two might talk as they work. Cutter grins. "More hands make the work go faster. Sure." Flashfire can't argue that logic. No way. He grins as well, looking towards where Cutter came in from. His, ah, fur helps him stay warmer; he doesn't notice the weather growing cooler quite as much as others might. "Is there a lot to bring back still?" he asks. Cutter shakes his head, and reaches down to ruffle Flashfire's head fur lightly. "Not too much. C'mon." Off he goes again, through the trees, to where a tree has fallen, dead of age, perhaps. Or ants. Either way, it's fuel for a fire, now. Flashfire grins at the ruffling, lifting a hand to clear some hair from his eyes afterwards. Tagging along and happy to help, he wonders curiously, perhaps unexpectedly (then again, perhaps not), "Did you learn much about Timmorn, ever?" Cutter's eyebrows dart upward. "Did I .. all cubs learn about Timmorn, Flashfire." He considers that briefly, and amends, "All cubs in the LostHolt do, anyway. Why?" Flashfire stoops to gather up some pieces of wood to carry back to the fire- pit. He pauses in that position, blinking in a moment of thought. "Because..I've just heard stories off and on, but that's all. And I know I guess I sort of look like him a little," Maybe more than a little. "And it's still hard sometimes to remember who I am. Like when I was playing with some of the pups the other night." Cutter tucks three pieces of wood into the crook of his arm before straightening again. "I ... don't think Timmorn ever forgot who he was, Flashfire. I think it didn't matter. Wolf or elf in mind, he was always Timmorn." He smiles. "So are you." Blink. "Er. Flashfire. Not Timmorn." Flashfire scritches at an ear in a split-second of confusion, before Cutter finishes the explanation. "Right..but sometimes he was more wolf than elf.." he thinks aloud, remembering what he's been told. Eh. Anyway. "Um, thanks. I'm doing better at not forgetting things, though." He stands back up with a pile of wood, albeit smaller bits. Cutter picks up another few pieces of wood, and turns back for the holt. "He was sometimes more wolf than elf, aye, cub. More than any of the rest of us, but we all have our bad Turns, and we all learn to balance both sides. You will too. You'll see." Long, long strides back toward the holt. Keep up, Flashfire. Not fair! Flashfire's shorter..much shorter than Cutter, and for every long stride by the chieftain, he has to take two or three. "Hey..wait up!" he says, before answering further. "I understand, and I'm glad I can get help if I need it." Cutter slows down a little, to allow Flashfire to catch up, but not entirely. The cub will certainly have to try to keep up; it's not intentional. He paces back to the firepit at the base of the Father Tree, and unloads his arms once more. "You'll always have help, Flashfire." Suntop walks in from the direction of the Denning tree where he has been staying, his packs and a couple of full waterskins slung over his shoulders. He pauses as he sees his father by the firepit, but then continues as if to leave the Holt. Flashfire does indeed try to keep up. Truth be told, he was partly joking when he said to wait up. But whatever the reasoning, he picks up his own pace to more or less trot along with the taller chieftain. Ridding himself of the wood he's gathered, he brushes his arms free of mashed leaves and whatnot, smiling a bit up at Cutter. "Thanks..father." It's getting easier to call him that. Attention then shifts quickly towards Suntop. Where's he going? Clearbrook sits in the shadow of the tree, unnoticed at first. She's fairly well hidden in the shadows, and the smell of elf is quite prevalent here. Cutter would likely notice you, Clearbrook, if Suntop didn't look like he was going somewhere. The smile he wore for Flashfire fades as Suntop passes by, and his brow furrows faintly. "Camping outside tonight, Suntop?" His tone is still light, hinting at a tease. Suntop stops and turns. His back is straight, chin lifted in what could be defiance. "No, " he answers softly, "I'm leaving." Camping outside? Suntop's going back to his roots, or something? Flashfire blinks a moment later, rather surprised at Suntop's stance and words. "Leaving?" he repeats. Suntop locksends ** I told you I would be going to the Palace soon, remember? ** You locksend to Suntop, Flashfire is still getting over the surprise. ** Aye..but I thought you were going to say so before you just left..and it's going to be cold again soon.. ** Clearbrook shifts some in surprise, finally drawing attention to herself. ** Why's that? <>** Suntop locksends ** I just felt I had to leave today...any later and it would have been too late... ** Cutter's attention flickers now to Clearbrook, then back to Suntop. The smile continues to fade. "Leaving for where?" You locksend to Suntop, Flashfire answers wordlessly at first, offering just a nod. Then, words. ** Uhm..be careful.. ** It seems like he thinks you won't be taking no for an answer, this time. Suntop glances to where Clearbrook rests in the tree and answers her first, ** It's past time... ** A look to his father, **...for me to go to the Palace. It is where the Sun Villagers have taken refuge and I feel I should be with them since it was my home as well. ** That seems to have answered both of the questions. Flashfire stands a length or so from Cutter, head a little above his waist, just as an example of how short he is compared to the chieftain. He doesn't say a thing, having talked with Suntop about this very subject before. Cutter's eyebrows quirk higher. "Palace?" He looks at Flashfire first, then Clearbrook, and back. The smile creeps back, lifting a corner of his mouth, but it's faint. "It's a long way to the Palace." "Yes..." Suntop answers as he shifts his packs more comfortably on his shoulders. "Which is why I should be leaving now." You locksend to Cutter, Flashfire ventures forth with a send, as if trying to explain. ** He's been itching to go for a while now, ever since the hoo-mans took over the Sun Village.. ** Clearbrook raises an eyebrow. ** Do they particularly need you, or...? ** She seems uncertain herself what she's going for here. Flashfire glances between Cutter and Suntop, curious to see how this plays out. He does remember how Suntop was upset before, when Cutter more or less forbade him to leave last time. Cutter's smile disappears entirely, without fading at all. It is simply gone. "It will be whitecold soon." Suntop's reply to his father's statement is a simple, "So I shall have to walk faster." Flashfire glances towards Clearbrook, aware of her question. He sends to her privately, intending not to interrupt the exchange between Cutter and Suntop. Not yet, at least. You locksend ** Maybe it's more like him needing them..? ** to Clearbrook. Clearbrook nods at Flashfire, her concern still evident on her face. Cutter makes a dismissive sound through his nose, like a wolf might make. Habit. "You'll wait," he says as if the matter's settled, and crouches to arrange wood.' Suntop is silent for a moment at the command, but he remains where he stands. Finally, he speaks. "No." Flashfire figures that's that. Cutter's spoken, and given his decision. Back to the wood as well. But wait. No? Uh-oh. The elf-wolf catches a breath silently at the defiant word. Clearbrook's eyes widen a bit. Now he's done it. He's done it indeed. Cutter's hand stops mid-reach for another piece of wood, and he looks back over his shoulder. "What?" Suntop meets his father's gaze, blue eyes to blue eyes. "I am leaving -now-." And he begins to do so. Flashfire thinks perhaps he'd better just occupy himself by making the woodpile look nice, or something. But he stops to glance again from Cutter to Suntop and just stares at the mystic, at how much..how similar his whole expression resembles that of his own father's. It's eerie. Cutter rises with fluid grace and turns toward the golden-haired elf. "You're not going anywhere until whitecold is passed, Suntop. Don't be ridiculous." You locksend to Suntop, Flashfire doesn't even come close to saying a thing. But there's an inherent sense of concern in there somewhere. Suntop tilts his head to keep his gaze as level with his father's as he can. "No, I've been ridiculous for far too long. I have already stayed one whitecold for you, I shall not stay another." Nightfall walks out of the Father Tree. Clearbrook smiles and waves to Nightfall, glad of a reason to tune out the uncomfortable conversation going on. Nightfall steps out on one of the lower branches, stretching, and wipes her eyes with one thumb. Still a bit sleepy, she looks around, expression growing perplexed. Flashfire remains by the woodpile, one knee on the ground. Indeed, he'd have to admit Cutter's got a point - it's going to be too cold, too soon... Cutter arches his brows even higher. True blue eyes narrow. "So you'd rather risk your hide traveling through the snow into troll lands?" Nightfall tilts her head in Clearbrook's direction in assent, expression abruptly more alert. She does, however, remain silent, crouching on the branch alertly. By Cutter's statement it is rather clear that he has not visited the Palace in some time. Suntop answers, perhaps a little too calmly, looking rather defiantly up at his father, "The Palace is no longer in the north, father. It is to the south...closer to Sorrow's...what was Sorrow's End." At his own amendment something in his eyes flash. Flashfire wasn't even aware of that, himself. That or he just didn't make the connection that when the Palace flew to rescue the Sunfolk, it went to a different place. How will this news affect things, then? The youngest elf present glances towards Nightfall, sending a silent acknowledgement of her presence, a greeting, before quietly going back to paying attention to the debate. Cutter is given a moment's pause by that news. He glances once more at Flashfire, then Clearbrook, and now Nightfall. The mounting audience doesn't, it seems, do much for his resolve. He frowns in earnest. "It's still too close to whitecold, Suntop. Wait. Until the first of Newgreen. Then you can go." Suntop's response is the same. "No, father. I have waited too long. I should have been there when the village was attacked." Ah...the reasons for his leaving are beginning to come out... Flashfire thought that had all been dealt with already. Finally, he speaks up, despite his words being unasked for. "Didn't we already talk about that, Suntop? They might have killed you, and you couldn't have stopped the round- ears by yourself." Clearbrook shakes her head. ** Even if someone who was... well, more warlike had been there, would one more been enough? It doesn't seem like it. ** Suntop turns intense blue eyes to Flashfire, "The danger was possible, but I could also be killed while on a hunt here. It has happened before." Then to Clearbrook, "I do not say that I singlehandedly could have stopped the attack, but it is--was my village as well." There is a held tension to his words. Clearbrook looks sad ** We all regret what happened and that we couldn't stop it, but... ** Cutter says "They may have been your village, and .. Clearbrook speaks for all of us. We regret what has happened, but we are your tribe. Your blood." Flashfire adds, "And nothing can be done about what happened. So it won't do any good to worry about whether you were there or not. But maybe we can still help the Sunfolk, somehow." Of course, he doesn't know how that'd be done. Suntop shakes his head, this next statement obviously difficult for him to say. "My blood, yes. But not my tribe." There. It's said. Now for the reactions. Clearbrook shakes her head in disbelief. "Not your tribe??" In her shock, she breaks her silence. "But who raised you all those years?" Nightfall looks at Suntop sharply, searchingly, then returns her attention to Cutter. The only noise she makes is an initial, surprised intake of air. For now. Cutter's reaction comes from his back, heralded by the stiffening of elongated spine, tensing of shoulders. He bows his head a little, but there is a palpable sense of mounting ... something. It does not feel like defeat. Flashfire isn't sure just how to react to /that/. He hasn't been part of the tribe for all his turns. He hasn't been raised in it from cubhood. The statement obviously has a different meaning to him. Nevertheless, the piece of wood in his hand falls, making a sound on the rest. Perhaps the only sound for the moment. Cutter's lip curls. He manages, though, to swallow what sounds like the beginning of a rumble born of temper. He answers a silent send, 'voice' tightly restrained. ** They can't defend themselves, Suntop. They certainly can't keep you safe. ** Could it be? Why yes, Suntop's temper...(he has a temper?!) seems to be growing as well. "I am not completely helpless. You saw to that, father, you should know." Flashfire figuratively bites his tongue, lest he get snapped at by either Cutter or Suntop. He stays crouched, sitting over his bare feet. Cutter snorts audibly, now. "You're helpless against the roundears, Suntop." Suntop's eyes narrow and he replies, "I had not planned on charging into the Village and demanding to fight each and every one. I would hope you think I have more wits than that. The attack is over and I am going to the Palace." Nightfall rocks back out of her crouch, seating herself on the branch, feet neatly bracing along the branch ahead of her. Flashfire considers asking Suntop what he would've done if he'd gone to the Village and found human spears being thrust at him. His mouth even opens, but the words don't come out. He doesn't bother sending them. Cutter sighs. "Suntop. If the roundears are strong enough and brave enough to attack a village of demons and spirits, what makes you think that they won't go after one alone? What makes you think that they stay in the village, any more than we stay only in the holt?"