Log Date: May 1995 Log Intro: Rillwhisper has been worried about Strongbow, as the Lostholt archer has been visiting her Holt for an unusually long amount of time, and has also suffered a serious fever which he left untended for several days before Rillwhisper finally discovered it. Having finally gotten Silversong to heal him, Rillwhisper has noticed that the archer seems bothered by something, and as several of the long-absent members of the Willowholt come journeying home, Rillwhisper resolves to have a word with her visitor.... ---------- Rillwhisper pads into the clearing, seeming slightly distracted, and is attacked by a purple blur by the moment she emerges from the trees. /Hellohellohellohello sunnygreen highthing!/ Fallberry chitters joyously, circling around the chieftess in glee before lighting on her shoulder. Rillwhisper smiles to the Preserver, looking a little startled to see it, and she blinks off towards the outer reaches of the Holt. "If you're back, bug, then Woodhawk... " Strongbow watches with wryly amused eyes from the shadows of the brush twixt two of the trees, crouched, quiet. ** Must be too. ** Fallberry pipes importantly, /Firehighthing rideride to hometrees! Is on greynose growler, come to hometrees soon!/ Rillwhisper blinks, and turns to Strongbow slightly startledly, her eyes softening a moment, then going slightly uncertain, then settling on a similarly wry look. "Archer," she greets simply. Fallberry oooooohs! /Hellohello sharpquiet highthing!/ It adds happily to Rillwhisper, chattering away, /Firehighthing say to Fallberry fly hometrees and tell sunnygreen highthing is on way home and stripehair highthing has brightfires now and little firehighbaby all sent back to oldoldoldold highthingplace!/ Strongbow makes his way out of the underbrush, nodding a fallen leaf from his hair before straightening. ** Scented him. ** He shrugs, bow at his shoulder, and blinks at the bug, trying to make sense of all that...chatter. Rillwhisper blinkblinks again, as she tries to make sense of the bug's chattered news. She smiles a bit at Fallberry, and tells it, "Thanks, bug... why don't you go tell Trollkiller that Woodhawk's coming home, hey?" The Preserver promptly nods, and flits off, bree-dee-DEETS drifting through the air in its wake. Fallberry goes home. Fallberry has left. Rillwhisper smiles a little to herself, murmuring, "'Hawk," mostly inaudibly, before she turns back to you. Rillwhisper studies you for a moment, and then smiles; there's a slightly awkward line to her mouth, but her gaze is deep and earnest. "You look better," she ventures. Strongbow bows his head a little, one red-violet lock trailing over his forehead more deeply than the others, shadowing his eyes a bit. ** I scented Woodhawk...not spirit treehorns. ** He looks off into the trees, send quieting. ** Your hunters are back. Your tribe. ** Rillwhisper nods gravely, stepping to your side. "All save Crystal and Acorn are home or coming home, that I know about," she agrees. Strongbow raises a brow and looks over at you, sidelong, something about his tensed muscles, set shoulders, aching to move, pace, walk, hunt, anything but stand awkward in the clearing. ** And they...? ** Rillwhisper considers, green glance noting your stance, and turns, gesturing up the hill towards the wolf dens in invitation. "No word, yet, but they've gone to Ravenholt and that's farther than any of us can send." Rillwhisper pads up the hill into the trees, slowly enough to let you easily accompany her... You slip through the trees and up the hill. Hillside by the Willow Clearing This gently sloping hillside inclines down toward the clearing dominated by the distant, huge, gnarled willow tree, just Hubward. On all other sides, younger and smaller trees provide multi-hued surroundings lit with the colors of the Deathsleep season: flame-red, gold, orange, and yellow, amidst some other greens and browns. Set into the hill is a rocky overhang, under which is a wolf-sized cave entrance. Many wolf-prints mark the ground near the rock. To the north and down the hill, you see the main clearing of the Holt; towards Sun-Goes-Up, the Starwillow Copse; and, shielded by cleverly placed young willow saplings, an even tinier copse to the southwest. Contents: Sunruff(#39aes) Ashes Willowpaw Nightruff Wolf Den(#110AJe) Obvious exits: Starwillow Copse Tiny Copse Clearing Strongbow comes up the hill from the nearby clearing. Strongbow has arrived. Off across the hill, two of the wolves are engaged in a snarling match over some hunt of the night, while some of the rest of the pack looks on. Rillwhisper glances in that direction, then veers off a little ways, so as not to disturb the creatures. Rillwhisper finally stops against one of the small willows, and leans against it. Strongbow follows, walking quietly at your side. After a time, he rolls his shoulders, less tense. ** On my way back to Lostholt...I'll be closer to range. Should I...? ** The rest of the question is wordless, the second point of his words closer to home. Rillwhisper turns to you; then, impulsively, she reaches to you and lightly massages your nearer shoulder, with one hand. "Should you...?" she repeats, prompting patiently? Strongbow's eyes smile a little and he turns to you, lifting his opposite hand to your other shoulder, completing a sort of circle. ** Try to reach them. ** Rillwhisper smiles a little more, though her gaze has turned slightly wistful. She doesn't move her hand, though. "I'd like to know how they are," she tells you honestly. "I've been nervous about all the tribe, lately, what with all the trouble we've been having... every time one of us deals with the Mountain." Strongbow nods, bowing his head a little in a nod, wordlessly clear that he will find word of them for your peace of mind. He is quiet for a moment, then looks back at you, eyes even, liquid, dark. ** I may be wanted at Lostholt. ** One corner of Rillwhisper's mouth flickers in a near-smile. She simply nods, though, her hand still lightly draped on your shoulder as if she is reluctant to move it. Rillwhisper seems at a loss for words, for a moment or two, as she gazes up at you; her attention flickers briefly as the wolves seem to settle their dispute and resume their ranked if messy consumption of dinner. She murmurs, "I'd... hoped you would bond with one of the new cubs... " Strongbow's hand stays on your shoulder, similarly reluctant to move. He bows his head again, quiet. At your words, he looks up, eyes smiling a bit. ** I think I was in a fever-vision when they started yapping. ** Nevertheless, he takes the chance to look more comfortably elsewhere, over at the wolf-dens and the ruins of supper. He is very quiet for a moment, mind opaque. Rillwhisper ponders a moment, then, tugs at you gently, inviting you to a more sheltered part of the trees, to sit down with her. Strongbow follows, oddly grateful, somehow. Rillwhisper settles down beside and slightly behind you, and without speaking, starts massaging both your shoulders, the motions of her fingers slow and rhythmic. Strongbow arches his back a little into the treatment, quietly appreciative. After a time he relaxes, folding his arms across his knees, sitting cross-legged. He savors the air a little, as if trying to capture it before he leaves it, then quits with a furrowed brow, his shoulders tensing a moment beneath your hands: why is this so blasted hard? His own chief might need him. Though no one's sent or come after him...he sighs slightly, muscles relaxing again of their own accord. ** Holt is quiet. ** Rillwhisper keeps up the steady massage; the apparent frailty of her fingers is deceptive, as she works strong and soothing kneadings into whatever muscle knots meet her fingertips. "It is," she agrees. And gives a bit of a chuckle. Strongbow smiles inwardly, mouth twitching a bit, eyes searching the trees for a bit, and then closing. He lets his shoulders fall a bit, submitting to your work. He is quiet, but not with the comforting non-communicative communication he usually shares, instead just awkwardly quiet. Rillwhisper sighs to herself, trying to keep her touch as smooth and as gentle as she can - hoping, perhaps, to relay the assurance that he needn't be so awkward, not around her. She doesn't speak, at least for a few minutes, but at last ventures softly, ** ? ** Strongbow sighs after some time and finds some voice, though no words to go with it. In his send is worry...some strange injury. He might be needed, but there's no reason to think so. He falls "silent" once more, opening his eyes to gaze into the trees. Rillwhisper blinks, her fingers pausing momentarily as if in surprise before she resumes her ministrations. Strongbow, not needed at his own Holt? The idea seems utterly foreign to her. If nothing else... ** I should think Moonshade would argue with you about that, ** she offers softly. Strongbow's shoulders twitch, and he drops his head forward. His send illustrates, in scattered words, his mate's concern over the lad Talek--her drive to find him, get help for him--as if _she_ had any responsibility to him? ** She didn't follow...she didn't ride with Brightfire and I. ** He forces a shrug. Strongbow lifts his head, gazing somewhere into the air in front of his nose. ** Stayed at holt. Needed there. ** Rillwhisper's breath catches as the set of your body clearly relays that she's hit _something_. Her hands pause in uncertainty, as if she debates how, exactly, to help this. ** But we got Talek and Brightfire out of that valley, ** she sends thoughtfully. ** She must be worried. ** After a beat, she adds, ** Moons, she might think you're wrapped up in that valley now, yourself... we haven't sent any word to her. ** Strongbow stubbornly points out, ** She hasn't been so worried as to send word out...she was so worried over the cub. ** He sighs, the slightest hint of an old, weary growl rattling in his throat. ** But wouldn't go to find him. ** So many words in so short a time seem almost alien to the archer's mindset, and he is quiet a long time before going on. ** She stayed with holt...way...tribe...needed there. ** He bows his head again, send falling to a whisper. ** Blame myself if I'm _not_ needed there. Ran off like a cub. ** Rillwhisper blinkblinks at the unexpected outburst, her eyes reflecting a wordless 'Oh no, what I have touched?' before she answers firmly, ** Brightfire needed help; you gave it. That's not running off like a scared cub. All the less, considering whose cub Talek _is_. ** She slides her hand towards your face, trying to see if she can encourage you to turn round to face her. Strongbow refuses to turn his head for a moment, but leans his face lightly into your palm, send quiet. ** Not like a scared cub. Just irresponsible. ** His tone is a little dry, more himself. After that, he turns round to face you, eyes liquid, hair drooping thornily into his face. Rillwhisper points out, ** Someone needed to help Brightfire, or else Talek would still be playing flower-blossom with the bugs, and Keshah... well, huh. She's no Winnowill, but she does have some tangles in her head that need sorting out. ** She studies you gently, reaching up to run her fingers through some of that dark red snarl, and adds, ** In an odd sort of way, I think there was no one better than you to help Talek. He's talking again... well, sending. Watching the cubs. Trying to learn things. He can't remember things well, but that's a cursed sight better than being a flower all the time. ** Rillwhisper half-smiles. ** I spent a whole summer thinking I was a flower after I ate a mushroom too many, I wouldn't do that again. I'm glad we saved Talek from that. ** Rillwhisper's smile widens. ** You should have seen the look on his face when he told me Brightfire is going to have a baby girl. The notion of being a sire hasn't stopped amazing him yet, and he's little more than an overtall cub himself. ** Strongbow's mouth twitches with the pull of a smile at its corners, a smile already somewhere in his eyes. ** Aren't you a flower? ** It rolls from his mind in the strangest way, as if it's some shadowy mockery of humor; he's not any too good at it, but there's affection in it. He sighs a bit, smile fading the littlest bit into a more relaxed state, and lifts his hand to put his fingers alongside yours for a moment. ** I'm glad, then...if I've helped. ** He seems doubtful--after all, didn't Silversong do all the work, she and you and Brightfire? What's been Strongbow's part--getting muddleheaded in the preserver valley, and getting sick not a turn later, sick enough to be no good as hunter or guard. He rolls his shoulders, making them relax again. Rillwhisper considers, then slips her arms around you, offering more contact. ** You know, Rainfire was ashamed of getting muddleheaded in the valley, too. And I'll tell you what I told him... there's no shame in that. The flowers would have gotten to all of us, if we'd stayed past the rosecherry giving out, and if Chitter hadn't shown up when he did. ** Rillwhisper goes on before you can protest, ** And as for getting sick... dear one, if you have anyone to blame for that, it's probably me, if you got the same thing I did. ** Strongbow lets himself lean back a bit into your arms, exhaling softly. ** Shouldn't have stayed past the...rosecherry giving out, then. ** His tone is reprimanding, though it's himself he reprimands, unforgiving but not cruel. ** And should have come to see about the chills before my head took me off hunting dreams. ** Rillwhisper nuzzles gently at your hair - contact almost as soft as those flower petals the bugs tied in your hair, but more here, more real. ** No, _we_ should not have stayed, ** she agrees, stressing the pronoun. Then she adds, send softening, ** I... do wish you'd come to tell me, if you felt sick. But if you didn't know you were sick, I can understand that. ** Strongbow shakes his head. ** I knew at first. Thought it would pass. ** He shrugs and lets it go with that, his silence no longer awkward. Rillwhisper smiles a bit, content with that. ** Probably best that Silversong came home when she did, though. I'dve had to get Sweetleaf to feed you teas, and that would have made you muddleheaded again. ** She nuzzles you again, playfully, before adding more seriously, ** ** Strongbow accepts that, turning his head to the side to return the nuzzle, softly. His send is less forwardly sent than put forward for you to absorb, but there's gladness in it, and some inevitable pride, that he's been _any_ help while he's here...and gratitude, more deeply, that you've been here, despite hating to be seen in a weak moment. Rillwhisper, inwardly promising herself never to reveal to anyone that she saw this sweet archer in any condition less than top hunting form, nor even to speak of it to him if it would make him feel better, just smiles faintly, her eyes lightening. You locksend to Strongbow, Rillwhisper touches your mind, clearly, radiantly. She doesn't put the thoughts into words, but simply shares them with you: you have been of aid, hunting, guarding, helping to keep her Holt safe and fed when so many of its warriors are on other errands. Strongbow relaxes tangibly and nuzzles you again, eyes closing. ** I'll make Moonshade come visit next time. ** His tone is a bit playful, but determination is behind it. Rillwhisper sends serenely, ** She would be welcome, ** as she cradles you closer. You locksend to Strongbow, Rillwhisper sends to you again, more softly but no less radiantly, her pride in you... her reliance on your strength in the times of crisis that have brought her to you. Soul-brother. She knows she can call you this, now.... You sense in a locksend, Strongbow returns the feeling in agreement--agreement he's had for a long time, whether he's spoken it or not, it's been there. The peace and silent understanding, whether with words or without, something individual to you and he...something he's known a hint of before, but not quite, quite the same, ever. Strongbow closes his eyes, scenting the night air, as relaxed as he's ever been except asleep. You locksend ** ** to Strongbow. Rillwhisper smiles, still nuzzling at your hair. And as she sends you her litany of celebration of you, her hands move down, slightly, starting their own unobtrusive little celebration as they trail across your chest. Strongbow smiles the slightest bit, but doesn't prevent it from showing on his face. In the shadows of the evening trees it's hard to tell if there's a faint blush to his long jaw or not...or if it's just a reflection of the pride in his eyes. After a moment he leans back to nuzzle your neck, breath warm, for just a moment, his mind softly turning his own celebratory mood toward the wood-scent and comfort with you. You locksend ** ** to Strongbow. Rillwhisper, with that, turns you over on your back. Her eyes glint pale green-gold, as she proceeds to show you, with legs that twine around yours and hands that cleverly find their way under leathers, that being a passive blossom is the farthest thing from her mind, here, and Now. Strongbow blinks, sending some wry approximation of a growl, which fails into laughter as he finds himself rather pinned...save for his arms, which he uses to, for at least a moment, draw you down to trail tonguetouches down your throat, finding his own ways through leathers--after living with leathermaking for so long, he seems to have a grasp on how they're put together. Rillwhisper's eyes shine; her sending flickers, just long enough to let you know that she takes just as much pride in your body as your spirit. And with that, she proceeds to prove it. [End log.]