"Wolfquest, Part 3" Log Date: 9/15/98, 9/16/98 Log Cast: Keshah, a wandering Sun Village maiden Lonehowl, a solitary Wolfrider hunter Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt Nightwing, a Preserver Leafdrop, a Preserver Rainsweet, a Preserver What Has Gone Before: Rillwhisper, chieftess of the Willowholt, and Lonehowl, solitary Wolfrider hunter, have found themselves fighting humans, Recognizing, and becoming trapped within a flower-infested valley filled with Preservers bent upon keeping them there. Ambushed by the Preservers before they have a chance to act on their Recognition, the two elves have fallen prey to the sleep-inducing effects of the blooms that grow all over the valley... and have, further, discovered that they are not the only elves in the valley. A third elf, the Sun Village maiden Keshah -- remembered by Rillwhisper as the maiden who'd tried to keep the dreamlost Talek trapped in this very same valley turns of the seasons ago -- is in the place, claiming it for her own. Initially ordering Rillwhisper to leave, and to leave her Lonehowl in payment for 'the one she stole', Keshah receives Lonehowl's ire and Rillwhisper's resistance in reply... and promptly changes tactics, retreating into soft words and manners. But not before maintaining her advantage, and ordering some of the Preservers to put the pair of Wolfriders back to sleep.... ---------- Keshah joins you from the meadow. Keshah has arrived. Keshah returns some time later, without her spear. Sparing only a brief glance for the motionless elves, she goes over to the edge of the pool. There, she removes her leathers and clothing, leaving all in a pile as she wades into the water. One of Lonehowl's arms lies more or less over Rillwhisper, the two having fallen and passed out together. She still sleeps, and so does he. So far, there's been no sign from either elf as to when they might come to. Keshah spends some time bathing in the pool, then emerges, dripping and struggling to run her fingers through the tangled hair. She glances at the pile of clothes, then ignores them and pads over to fold herself into a down at him thoughtfully. Lonehowl is unresponsive to any attempt at communication from the bare Keshah sitting near him. He remains...out. Keshah's golden eyes dwell on Lonehowl as she carefully combs her hair with her fingers, slowly untangling the tangles. As the hair dries it becomes glossy and wavy, falling down her back in a more ordered tumble than before. Finally satisfied, she reaches for Lonehowl, gently touching his cheek. The chieftess lies just as prone as the hunter, gold in the form of the flower-dust blurring the line between where her hair ends and her face begins. She holds the inert Lonehowl to her breast, and half beneath him, she lies in a crooked sprawl, her broken leg sticking out awkwardly from her in its wrapstuff and leather miniature cocoon. And still, there is no reply. Not just yet, at least. Lonehowl keeps still, though something deep inside has him faintly aware of the chieftess beside him. He just can't /do/ anything for her yet. Keshah's full lips curl into a faint smile, and she murmurs. "She thought she could take you away by Recognizing you. But I'm not going to let it happen. Not this time. Mmm, no. But careful and subtle. No traps, no fighting. I'll make you *want* to stay, my love. This time, it will all be right." Keshah is met with only more silence. Keshah strokes Lonehowl's hair gently, shifting her gaze to the immobile Rillwhisper. "Mmm. What to do... She should go, but you might follow. No, she will stay. Until you realize you do not need her. And then... then we will get rid of her, won't we?" Rillwhisper, however, stirs ever so faintly, her head turning a breath to one side, her nose in the smallest of crinkles. Deep within her shrouded awareness, this chieftess knows the feel of induced dreaming; she can't help but know, with her Holt full of fantastic shapings of her brother's. And she's had some practice trying to shake off unnatural fog from her thoughts. Somewhere within her mind, she starts trying to rouse herself. To reach... him. The hunter. Keshah smiles fondly to Lonehowl. "We will be so happy here. You and I and our little friends. And nobody will ever keep us apart again." She leans close to brush her lips against his forehead, then stands lithely. Keshah(#450Pc) Her dark golden skin and dainty size betray her sun folk origin, though there is something in her posture setting her apart from that peaceful tribe. Her molten gold eyes hold an inner fire, barely in check, and her nightblack hair falls down her shoulders raggedly. Her clothing is a motley of the gauzy, colorful sun folk apparel, some coarser cloth of uncertain origin, and odd bits of leather including thigh-high boots. The overall impression is one of ordered chaos. Added to the ensemble are worn but serviceable heavier leathers, suitable for the climate in the frozen north. A bronze knife glints from between the odd bits of clothing, haphazardly stuck into her belt. A bright red flower is stuck haphazardly into her dark hair. And still, Keshah's words fall upon the deaf ears of the hunter, though unconsciously, he very gently draws Rillwhisper slightly closer to his body. He's not aware of it, however. His head is still empty, and as he's never had to deal with the effect of pollen like this, it's hit him rather hard, compared to those who might be otherwise 'used' to it. It seems to take her an eternity of picking through tendrils of clinging fog before she is finally able to shape a sending, and it is barely more than a ripple in her consciousness, questing down and within to try to find and follow the tugging at her soul. Find hers first... and then perhaps she'll find his? Reach him? ** .......... G.... Gyrr? ** Keshah returns to her clothing and leathers, starting to sort through it. After a while, she has a suitable assortment of bright, gauzy bits of apparel, the last remains of her sunfolk outfit. Murmuring softly to herself, she wanders away from the pool with these. Keshah heads for the meadow. Keshah has left. Totally unaware that Keshah was even here to begin with, Lonehowl's deep slumber goes on. But once more, as before, there comes that calling that's brought him around before. It's harder now to stir, for the effect of the pollen on an already woozy elf was only worse than before. ** Gyrr.... ** It's a weak wisp of a sending, plaintive, blurred. ** Hear me.... *** Lonehowl suddenly groans faintly, turning his head slightly. It winds up burying his face more into the ground that is covered in the golden pollen - not exactly a good way to eventually wake up. But as he stirs, his mind stirs as well. ** Uuhhnnn..T..Twyr.. ** He recognizes the sending. Physically, Rillwhisper doesn't stir, the inner fragment of her awareness clinging to the will to act focusing all its efforts on her sending. ** Wake, ** she calls wanly, need giving the one word strength enough to stumble out of the haze. Lonehowl tries to. Really, he does. He should be stronger than this, and somewhere, he knows it. This noted, he tries to grab on to that word, latching on to it in order to help him do what he needs to do - awaken, and get the two of them out of here. ** Trying.. ** He hears! He answers! The mind of Rillwhisper ripples with a little more vigor, just as much desperation. Fragments of memory bleed into her sending, echoes of a Before-time, when she was here before, when she met the danger that lives among the green growing things in the valley. Glimpses of the faces of other elves swirl in and out of those pieces of recollection, blurring her sent word though not the intent beneath. ** Danger. Can't stay. Can't... sleep.... ** [But the flower-dust sleep still has both chieftess and hunter firmly in its grasp. Lonehowl slides back into unconsciousness, and it does not take much for Rillwhisper to slide down with him, back down into the dreaming, letting more time pass over them in the timeline copse by the pool. Enough time that their self-appointed hostess eventually returns....] Keshah joins you from the meadow. Keshah has arrived. She hasn't been able to wake him. It's been enough to keep Rillwhisper gripping her consciousness with tenacious tooth and claw, for the haze in her head is inexorably being pushed aside by a growling need in her psyche, in her flesh, in her blood. At last, it's Lonehowl's scent that hauls her into something resembling alertness. Rillwhisper opens her eyes, emits a strangled cough, and automatically turns her head towards the hunter she's still clasping in arms that seemingly turned to stone from their inactivity. _Hunter,_ she thinks, in a measure of relief. She is not alert enough to think of the specific little dangers in the valley; no, for the chieftess, it is enough to see Lonehowl lying with her, though he is still headlong in the flower-sleep. Rill manages to turn slightly, shifting his form half-draped over her, and finds herself staring down groggily at his unconscious features. He is beautiful, she realizes, and once more, the sight of him aggravates that need lurking within her. She must wake him, she tells herself, or else the need will get worse. At last, she runs a trembling hand along what she can reach of his body, until her fingers find the dried blood on his shoulder where the human spear had grazed him. Disturbed, the chieftess begins to try to sit up, to lay the hunter's prone form down on the petal-strewn ground beside her. Keshah pads into view with silent steps, though not silent enough for a wolfrider to miss. She is carrying a woven basket piled with berries... and there is a scent of raw meat, as well. Two familiar blotches of color appear on one of the many purple flower-bearing bushes by the pool. Nightwing peeks out, its wine red eyes shadowed with unease; beside it, Leafdrop, adjusting the tiny acorn hat set on its head. // Sunnygreen and manygrowlers still here! // the dark blue Preserver whispers to its fellow, who offers a nod in reply. // Leafdrop sure Rainsweet tellright? Saw other highthing too? // // Leafdrop know! Leafdrop saw! // the leaf-green sprite chirps in reply, lifting its nose in answer. // Rainsweet telltruth, is so! Rainsweet say-- mmmph! // A tiny hand claps over the other Preserver's mouth as Nightwing's eyes bug out in alarm. // Shhh! // it hisses, straightening. // Other highthing! Nighthair flameeyes highthing! // Keshah pads right over to Rillwhisper and Lonehowl, eyes demurely lowered, and kneels to place her basket on the ground. Golden eyes glance briefly sideways at the bushes, and she smiles faintly. Scents.... other scents. Her nose crinkling, Rillwhisper lifts her head, her groggy gaze swiveling round until at last it comes to rest upon Keshah. Something like alarm flickers through the chieftess's dazed countenance, and she struggles harder to sit up, winding up with Lonehowl lying inert before her, one arm curled over his bare chest. "You," she coughs out weakly. Keshah(#450Pc) Her dark golden skin and dainty size betray her sun folk origin, though there is an inner fire in her molten gold eyes that set her apart from most of that peaceful tribe. Midnight hair falls in glossy waves down to the small of her back, and the faintest touches of color enhance her eyes and mouth becomingly. Her clothing has been salvaged from what was once a flowing sunfolk dress. Now, the yellow and orange gauze is reduced to a haltertop, knotted in front, and a short skirt that rides low on the hips and reveals the newly muscular curves of her tanned legs. Small red and purple flowerbuds have been braided into the length of her hair, and her bronze dagger is stuck into the skirt, nearly hidden by the gauzy folds. She is barefoot. Keshah speaks softly, her voice warm and concerned. "I brought food for you and your friend. Berries, and a little meat. How are you feeling?" Both Preservers duck down in a futile attempt to hide from Keshah's scrutiny. Nightwing hesitates there, then nods to Leafdrop, who darts deeper into the bush and out the opposite end, towards another part of the valley. As for the indigo sprite left behind, it emerges as well, but slowly, gliding towards the pair as it chews a finger uncertainly. Keshah straightens her back, still kneeling on the ground, and offers a hand to Nightwing. Palm up, for it to land on if it chooses. She murmurs. "Hello again, little friend." In apparent bemusment for this vision of vivid colors before her, Rillwhisper squints up at the Sun Village maiden, her vision taking its sweet time focusing. She manages to espy the Preserver too, however, and when she replies, it is more or less to both Keshah and the dark-hued bug: "Made us sleep again." It's a low, hoarse growl of accusation. Nightwing regards Keshah with uncanny intelligence, a thoughtful frown creasing its features as it alights on her palm. It puts forth bluntly, // Nighthair highthing notake Sunnygreen highthing and Manygrowlers highthing from safesnug place. Is Nightwing's! Nightwing take careof. // Keshah tells Nightwing calmly. "We will all take good care of them. So we will." She focuses past the Preserver on Rillwhisper, and says softly. "I apologize for that. It seemed the only way to calm you down before you harmed yourself further. You are...hurt, and should not be moving so much." Instinctively distrusting both the maiden and the Preserver, Rillwhisper half-leans over Lonehowl, her one arm still protectively curled over him, the other propping her up, elbow pressing into the litter of leaf and petal and golden dust beneath her. Her lip has curled in a slight scowl, an expression that would, were she more alert, be the very image of a she-wolf guarding her mate. At last, though, grudgingly, she rasps, "Be... all right. Not staying here long." And little Nightwing nods in response to nighthair highthing, turning so that it can face the other conscious highthing. It squints. // Sunnygreen highthing not good allover? Maybe Nightwing make wrapstuff? // Its a question that seems to be posed to both parties, not just one or the other, and also with some amount of unease. Another highthing here.. and HoneyGold not so far away. It wants to keep highthings snugsafe, but can it with others showing interest in them as well? // ...Nightwing make good wrapstuff! Keep sunnygreen from getting notgood allover-more! // Rillwhisper growls with as much vehemence as she can manage, "No wrapstuff. _No flowers_." Keshah touches a finger thoughtfully to her lips, golden gaze going to Lonehowl. Then she tells Nightwing. "This is not the time for wrapstuff, little friend. But... perhaps for sparklewaters. Enough to drink, and to wash away this dust." She smiles to Rillwhisper. "You will feel better, with the dust gone." Nightwing bobs its head in quick agreement! // Is so! Sparklewaters make highthings quietmuch.. not move, not make notgood allover-more! // Nonetheless, it looks both disappointed and frustrated, being denied the privelege of wrapstuffing the injured Wolfrider.. or Wolfriders. Washing. Rillwhisper frowns, her gaze dropping back down to the sleeping hunter and his blood-streaked shoulder and arm. "Wash him," she barks out huskily.Then, catching a few scattered words in Nightwing's chattering, she starts growling without words, grasping only something about the water making her quiet.... Keshah shoo's Nightwing and two other Preservers who have been watching curiously from nearby. "Fetch sparklewaters, go!" She reaches out to place a dark hand on Rillwhispers arm. "The water will not hurt you, truly." Nightwing and the other two dart off, all save the dark blue chiming, // We do! // Rillwhisper's arm, touched, contracts around Lonehowl as she unthinkingly draws herself closer to him. "No wrapstuff," she repeats stubbornly, apparently determined to get this point through. Keshah looks at Rillwhisper, catching her eyes. Her sending is weak and unpracticed, but the truth undeniable. ** No wrapstuff you. ** The wolf-chieftess's sending is equally weak, hampered by her exhaustion and by pain. But still she sends roughly, ** No wrapstuff hunter. No wrapstuff Lonehowl. ** The send is more determination and insistence than actual words, and a few beads of sweat break out along Rillwhisper's brow as she makes her reply. Swiftly, the trio of Preservers return bearing sparklewaters. Again in unison, they trill, // Brought sparklewaters! Alldone now! // Keshah looks down at Lonehowl. Her trailing fingers move over to him, gently brushing along the nearest arm. ** No. ** Keshah looks up at the Preservers, smiling again. "Thank you, little friends. Him, first." She points to Lonehowl. Only then does Rillwhisper let herself relax, letting out a soft grunt of acknowledgement. She catches herself before she collapses atop the hunter, and for a long moment, she seems incapable of doing anything save gazing down at his countenance, yearning flickering across her eyes. Then she shakes herself, peering blearily up at the Preservers. "Wash his shoulder," she orders thickly. The Preservers flit over to Lonehowl and attend to his shoulder as per Keshah's and Rillwhisper's commands, chattering cheerfully amongst themselves. Nightwing finishes first, pulling away to return back to Keshah's shoulder, perching there to watch with a watchful eye. Cautiously, it asks her, // Highthing nottake sunnygreen and manygrowlers away from Nightwing, yes? // Keshah retrieves a recently killed bird from her basket, moving with deliberate grace. She places it on her palms, holding it out to Rillwhisper. "Would you like some food, now?" Keshah's red lips pull into another faint smile, and she tells the Preserver quietly. "We will not leave you again, little friend." It's enough. As the blood is cleansed from the supine elf's skin, Rillwhisper watches this with undisguised anxiety, her gaze slowly moving from Lonehowl's shoulder to his face, back and forth, lingering far longer on the latter. It is with an apparent effort that she finally returns her attention to Keshah and the bird, surprise creeping into her face. ** .....? ** // Is so? Is good, // Nightwing answers Keshah, its own voice as hushed as hers. Keshah holds the bird out still, unwavering. "You do prefer meat to berries, do you not? Please, eat. You will regain your strength much faster." Meat.... freshly killed. Dulled as her senses are, Rillwhisper cannot deny that there is a hunger in her belly, and with much concentration, she forces herself to sit up. One hand remains on Lonehowl, however, while she croaks, "Yes.... need the meat." A pause, and then, she adds, "Thank you..." Keshah lowers her head slightly in acknowledgement. "There is another, for your friend." She pauses. "I fear I do not know his name." Nightwing pipes, // Highthing eatmuch, is good! Getstrong, make bettersoon! // A pause, a sidelong glance cast to Keshah, then the Preserver supplies tentatively, // Is manygrowlers highthing. // Keshah mms at the Preserver. "Indeed, he is." ** Lonehowl, ** Rillwhisper sends gruffly, even as she takes the slain bird into her free hand. Wolfriders are not dainty eaters at the best of times, and this is not the best of times for the wounded chieftess. She starts tearing feathers off the bird with her teeth, till she can reach its blood, and all the while, she warily regards the Preserver and her.... hostess? Keshah's golden eyes dwell on Lonehowl as she silently mouths his name. Nightwing bobs its head agreeably. // Manygrowlers highthing. Has manymany growlers! // It peers at Rillwhisper curiously, its head tilting to the side some. // Sunnygreen.. Maybe sunnygreen highthing want juiceberries and beesweets too? // Rillwhisper spits out feathers, licks her lips, and then eyes Nightwing. "No flowers," she growls lowly at it, a little more strength in her voice, with even that scrap of sustenance she's taking in. Keshah makes a vague motion towards the basket. "There are some berries there. I find them preferable, myself." Her attention isn't quite on her words. Nightwing chirps in answer, promising, // No flowers for sunnygreen highthing! Maybe juiceberries and beesweets instead? // The chieftess, with visible reluctance, takes her other hand off the unconscious hunter to better pluck feathers off her meal. It doesn't take her very long to tear the bird's body apart, leaving incongruous streaks through the pollen still dusting her face. "What kind of berries?" she rasps. // Juiceberries! // the dark-blue Preserver clarifies unhelpfully. Keshah carefully avoids looking at the feeding wolfrider. She does finally pulls herself away from her fascinated regard of Lonewolf to offer a small handful of blue berries to Rillwhisper. "These are not quite ripe. They taste less sweet, but will... trouble you less." Rillwhisper frowns down at the tiny bird-bones, aware that such dainty things probably can't give her much in the way of marrow. Wiping a hand across her face and not doing much to clean it up in the meantime, she takes the berries, lifting them to her nose to sniff them suspiciously. "You take one too," she barks softly, then. Keshah mutters to the Preservers, trying not to look directly at Rillwhisper. "More water, friends." With a soft sigh, she takes a berry and places it on her tongue. And very deliberately chews and swallows it. The two Preservers fly off. Leafdrop, emerging from the bush it vanished into earlier, follows, giving Nightwing the chance to remain behind, keeping an eye on all the highthings. The chieftess watches the other she-elf for a time, and when it seems to her that the berries aren't liable to induce any un-looked-for dreaming, Rillwhisper grudgingly takes a berry or two between her teeth and consumes them. She sends rough gratitude, though her expression is still guarded. Keshah summons Rainsweet, or perhaps Sweetrain, and stands as gracefully as she knelt. "I will... leave you to your ablutions, wolfrider chief. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to send for me." She smiles sweetly. "I wish to see you both sound and well again." Keshah withdraws silently, apparently in earnest conversation with the blue Preserver. Keshah heads for the meadow. Keshah has left. At Rainsweet's appearance and Keshah's rising to her feet, Nightwing lifts up from the golden-eyed maiden's shoulder just as the other Preservers return with more sparklewaters. It flits near Rillwhisper, but not too close, watching as the trio offer the sunnygreen highthing the water. The chieftess peers after Keshah. A few berries downed, she finds herself consuming the rest, and then she peers up warily at the hovering Preservers. "What?" she demands of them, hoarsely. // Sunnygreen highthing want sparklewater? // a Preserver chirps pleasantly, drawing still closer with the water offered out to her. With the water offered in one of those omni-present flowers, Rillwhisper scowls at the winged creature, before she reaches for the blossom, without asking leave. "Highthing want sparklewaters," she retorts. But rather than drinking, she splashes the contents of the bloom on her face. The Preserver giggles! at the sight, darting back again as its fellows in turn offer their blossom-cups of water. // Highthing look silly! // the first trills happily, its eyes dancing as it regards her. // All wetmuch! // Wet is only a side effect; Rillwhisper's goal is alertness. The water in her face helps some, clearing some of the fog from her brain. Then she frowns, turning where she sits, eying the pool. Slowly, a familiar drowsiness pulls at your muscles, soothing them into unwanted relaxation. A fuzziness, still very slight, enters the brain, making your drowsy muscles seem light of weight and thinking harder to focus, as if trying to look through waxy glass. With a gesture, Nightwing dismisses the other Preservers, the trio scattering into the nearby bushes with a chorus of light giggles. The indigo sprite looks back to Rillwhisper thoughtfully, its face touched with curious bemusement. It glides slightly closer, then near enough to be touched if so the highthing desired. It queries, // Highthing? // Wait... Rillwhisper frowns at herself, paused as the faint lightness takes hold of her. Her eyelids drop down once, then open again, and she shakes her head, trying to clear it. "Leave me 'lone, bug," she mutters, trying to remember what she was doing. Right.... the pool. She begins to pull herself to her hands and her good knee. The indistinctness doesn't increase, but nor does it fade either. Nightwing still trails behind, fallen silent at the rebuke. It's a temporary effect, unfortunately. // Sunnygreen highthing? // it tries again. It takes Rillwhisper a very long time, or so it seems to her, to crawl the short distance between herself and the water nearby. But she makes herself do it, for all that moving each limb feels as though she were crawling through something more substantial than air. "What?" she muttergrowls. Nightwing hovers nearby, but not .too. nearby. // Whyfor highthing nowant Nightwing make wrapstuff? // it inquires, blinking its wine red eyes slowly. // Highthing notgood allover! ...whyfor not want wrapstuff? // Finally. The pool. Rillwhisper pauses, supporting herself on her hands and her one good knee, and finding herself gazing longly down into the water. "Can't sleep," she mumbles, though it takes a very long time for her words to escape her. "Stay awake. For Lonehowl. We must... make the cub." She swallows hard as that thought buoys her up, and unsteadily, she reaches for a palmful of water, to splash across her face. The fuzziness.. it increases slightly, just slightly. Enough to make thinking a little bit harder, but not so much as it could be noticed. Yet. Nightwing's eyes widen in surprise and glee, flitting closer with its hands clasped. // Is so? // it squeaks, amazed. // Tinybaby highthing comesoon? // It knows what a cub is? Blinking, rather more languidly than she knows, Rillwhisper lifts her head to consider the Preserver. "Lonehowl and I have to make a cub," she says after a moment, gruffly pleased that that came out with conviction. But her voice has softened, something of the growl leaving it. // Oooooooooooooooohhhhh!!!! // Somebody, apparently, just made a certain Preserver's day. Nightwing bobs midair, its eyes all but bugging out of their sockets. // Is so? Is so? Is good! Is verygood! Nightwing .like. tinybaby highthings! // "Mrmrmm," is Rillwhisper's reply. She frowns, unsure whether washing her face is working to awaken her as she desires. Dipping a hand into the water again, and swaying slightly as she supports herself on her remaining hand and knee, she once more splashes her face. The Preserver cheers! and suddenly decides it's time to be more friendly, latching on to the red-golden strands of Rillwhisper's hair and making a nest out of them. But instead of irritation that is supposed to rise in answer, all you feel is a pleasant.. distantness. Like a dreamberry haze, but not. Instead of feeling awake, you feel.. far off from your surroundings, as if you're not really there, and a drowsiness that has begun to intensify again. Rillwhisper's hand drops down into the water, and she frowns down at it, softly. She stays in that position, transfixed, apparently unaware of Nightwing's invasion of her unkempt mop. Well, not entirely unaware. "Stop it," she murmurs, strangely dreamily. And she doesn't move, her fingers trailing into the pool. // Stop what? // the Preserver inquires, but it seems so far away, so distant.. As if it were but an echo sounding from miles away. Two more Preservers arrive, hovering nearby, holding purplescent blossoms. Very idly, Nightwing strokes the highthing's hair, murmuring offhandedly, // Highthing sure nowant flowers? Look pretty.. very, very pretty.. put in hair, put in clothes.. // It sighs wistfully. // Maybe beesweets too. // The water, muses the chieftess, is very warm and bizarrely soft against her fingertips. Puzzled, she lifts her hand up again, this time, in unthinking experimentation, tasting the moisture in her palm. Stop.... what? "What?" she murmurs to the Preserver, confused by its soft chatter. // Beesweets, // Nightwing repeats patiently, its eyes blinking brightly. // To twine in softpretty hair.. flowers and beesweets and braid all tinypretty.. // It sighs again, but hopefully. // Sunnygreen highthing .very. softpretty.. maybelet Nightwing and wethings play with softpretty hair? // Before Rillwhisper is aware of what she's doing, she's lapped up a handful of the pool water, and then a second.... and only then does she catch herself, her sluggish thoughts finally admitting a tendril of alarm into her consciousness. Her hand drops rather sharply this time, and she tries to crawl back away from the pool, mumbling, "Not.... softpretty. No... not..." Too late, the damage's done. Your body feels oddly light, feathersoft.. as if you could leap up and be caught like the wind, spiraling in the breeze like a lost autumn leaf. It's disorienting, but not unpleasant; perhaps that may be .the. most disorienting thing about it is that it is not unpleasant, but almost warm and soothing. As if you hadn't a care in the world. And then the Preserver, its voice insisting and strangely seductive for all its innocent high-pitched qualities. // Is so softpretty! Sunnygreen highthing verymuch softpretty.. Manygrowlers highthing too! // Nightwing strokes her hair, then idly starts to braid together three individual threads. // Lookin sparklewaters! Is verymuch pretty! Nightwing take goodcare of softpretty highthings, is promise! // Rillwhisper tries to frown. "Leave.... Lonehowl.... alone," she murmurs. But her head is heavy, so very heavy, and her gaze drops back down to the water, yielding to Nightwing's cajoling. A pair of fuzzy green eyes set on a delicate face framed by red and gold looks back up, topped with a splash of blue that after further focus can be made out to be Nightwing. Two other colorful blots hover in the background, holding smaller violet blots. They draw closer, then hesitate. Nightwing's voice is silvery and soft as it leans close to the highthing's ear. // Looksee, looksee.. is true! Sunnygreen see? Nightwing take goodcare of softpretty highthing. // "Don't need," Rillwhisper mumbles, watching the blurred colorful forms in the water. Her arms begin to quiver under her weight, for all that she finds herself feeling strangely changed, her head heavy, the rest of her curiously ephemeral. The pain of her leg has receded into the haze, and that alone is enough to bring peace to her features. Nightwing tsks softly. // Nightwing .always. take goodcare of highthing! Is what do! // The colorful blots in the background come still closer, one reaching out almost shyly to touch the reddish-goldish hair; at a gesture, however, it is gone, a purplescent blossom left in its stead. The indigo Preserver continues to coo charmingly, trying to keep the highthing's attention away. // Highthing always be snugsafe, Nightwing makesure. // Rillwhisper's eyes waver closed for a moment. "Don't need to be snugsafe," she mumbles. "Need..." She swallows, trailing off, baffled. She needs.... . And extremely slowly, she starts to try to turn her head, back towards the hunter. _Gyrr,_ she thinks vaguely, but even the need for the hunter roiling somewhere deep in her psyche is becoming pleasantly muted. // ...need Nightwing, // the Preserver fills in softly, stroking her hair. Another sprite, another blossom wound in the highthing's hair. A wine-thick warmth fills her mind, blurring all else. The only point of focus might be, could be, that wordnameconcept pulsing, crying out in the depths of her awareness. The indigo sprite continues to speak, voice soft and its chatter somehow indistinct and.. silly? strange? Nightwing is saying.. something, but it suddenly seems so pointless, of such little consequence to bother to listen.. Words, snatches of them, rise up - 'snugsafe' and 'prettysoft' and occasionally, 'wrapstuff' and 'flowers' - but they come with little rhyme and reason, placed randomly here and there amongst the softspoken ramblings. As Nightwing's words begin to slur together in her hearing, Rillwhisper starts to try to turn, to crawl back towards the unmoving form of the hunter. But she doesn't make it very far, toppling over onto her side with one hand limply fallen in Lonehowl's direction. _Gyrr,_ comes the distant, urgent cry in her mind, but her body refuses to let her do more than roll over onto her back, her gaze lifting up languidly. ** .... ** Nightwing lifts up into the air as Rillwhisper falls and settles on her chest, padding towards her face to look down at her with a soft tsk-tsk-tsk! sound. // Highthing notgood allover.. falldown, goboom! // Two more Preservers descend, hovering about the fallen highthing patiently. // Leg broke.. headfuzzy... Nighthair highthing say 'no wrapstuff', but nighthair highthing not here! // It pauses thoughtfully, touching its finger to its chin in an oddly comical sort of way. Lonehowl, still lying where he's been, begins to stir ever so slowly. He's slept all throughout everything that's gone before - Keshah and the birds, Rillwhisper waking up, and so on. But finally, faint movement. He can sense the chieftess isn't next to him, but not much else is clear yet. ** Twyr...? ** he send-mumbles. Rillwhisper blinks again, very slowly, her eyes gone dreaming and dazed. Unable to make out what the bug is saying, she starts to lift a hand to swat it off her chest, only to find that the motion takes seemingly forever, and she stares glassily at her own fingers as her hand lifts.... lifts.... and then finally drops down heavily to drape over her ribs, missing Nightwing entirely. To Lonehowl's sending, there is no reply, but the place where Rillwhisper had lain is warm, her scent fresh. Perhaps she hasn't gone far.... The Preservers, however, notice Lonehowl's stirring and one darts up into the air, leaving tow behind to deal with Rillwhisper. It retrieves one of the blossoms tucked in the maiden's red-golden hair, hugging it close as it flits near the lad, coming to rest beside his head. // Shh! Shh! Too soon now! // it whispers hurriedly before gliding into the air and shake the lone blossom over his head, trying to send him back to sleep. // Go stillquiet again! // Nightwing frowns as it sees Lonehowl stirring, but keeps its attention focused on Rillwhisper. As the hand lifts and falls, a single thread of silver wrapstuff flies out, adhering to her thumb.. Then, a sticky tapestry is woven about it, holding it in place as Nightwing and its fellow start to work swiftly, in case Lonehowl rouses further. Lonehowl coughs softly, blinking his eyes and beginning to draw himself to his hands and knees. Such..heaviness inside. His head spins just in getting to this position, but he ignores the dizzying effect as he figures out Rillwhisper's moved...somewhere. Lifting his head, he looks, and glassy eyes gradually settle on her, a short distance away. He sees the Preserver coming over to him and he turns his head from it. "No..go 'way.." Then he looks back and sees the wrapstuffing starting. "No.." he says again, holding his breath as the pollen falls around him. Of course, that won't last forever, and he crawl-stumbles over towards her. Dimly, it occurs to Rillwhisper that she is in peril. But her body is not obeying her, and the hand with which she'd meant to swat the bug is soon held fast against her. Her other hand, the one which had been lying pointed in Lonehowl's direction, comes up to try to bat at the bug as well. The chieftess lies sprawled on her back, and two flowers have been braided into her hair; her face is oddly tranquil, only a tiny glimmer of unease in her muzzy eyes suggesting at disquiet within her. One flower has been loosened from her hair. In fact, it's the selfsame flower that the Preserver is trying to drug Lonehowl with. It follows him, continuing to sprinkle over his head, trying to lull him back to sleep. // No! No! Goback stillquiet! // And Nightwing and Leafdrop, who is its companion, continue to wrap Rillwhisper, one reaching up the length of her arm while the other shoots out a stream of thread in an attempt to catch the other arm as it flails at the sprite. Lonehowl's eyes narrow, as he realizes what's going on. Gathering his energy into the motion, he sits up and tries to grab the Preserver bothering him. One flower might not make the biggest difference in this case, and he's doing his best to resist it. Rillwhisper's mouth curls in the faintest of frowns as she considers her arm. It's... not moving right. Perhaps this is because it's turned so bizarrely light, drifting in motion like an airborne feather....? Contradictory to the chieftess's perceptions, however, that hand of hers is moving sluggishly and clumsily, and is easily snared in the wrapstuff. Another slight frown darkens her otherwise peaceful face, and a small whimper sounds in her throat as she finds her fingers halted without her consent. In kind, Lonehowl might find his own moves turned sluggish. Though but one flower, it is enough to drag at his muscles, making them lazy and slow, giving him a featherlightness to his perceptions that makes it so hard to move. The Preserver avoids him easily, flitting out of reach nimbly. But it drops the flower, the bug itself rendered temporarily harmless. More quickly than before, the two Preservers attending to Rillwhisper work, lacing her opposite arm over the other, then covering them in wrapstuff. Then, their work sloppy at having to move so quickly, the Preservers start to work their way up. Lonehowl misses awkwardly, and stumbles forward to steady himself on shaky hands. He turns his head away from the flower's pollen once more, though it does slow him down considerably. He covers his mouth with a hand to breath in as little of the pollen as he can, and fights to resist the effects - that's his Recognized over there, and he has to save her! Of course, the pulling feeling that draws him to her is a mysterious one to him. He stumbles again, and slips, his since-cleaned shoulder hitting the ground roughly. "Unnhh..." Rillwhisper frowns vaguely, her gaze still focused on the Preservers... or at least pointed in their direction. Unable to move her arms, she realizes something of what is happening to her, and with a mumbled whine of protest, she tries to turn on her side. A faint ragged sending escapes her: ** Gyrr.... ** ** Twyr..! ** The sending of his soulname stirs Lonehowl up again, /just/ enough for him to put one last-ditch effort into this. He gets up again, and using all he's got right now, he growls threateningly at the Preservers, waving his arms at them as he nears. "Go..away!" If only he had a proper chance to rest up. Like a flock of sparrows, the three Preservers take to the air. // Badbad highthing! Nastybad! Go way go way go way NOW! Leafdrop sting! Nightwing bite! Go way! // They fly at him, dart at him, clawing at him with tiny, tiny fingers.. then, quick as a blink and twice as suddenly, abandon both him and Rillwhisper, vanishing into the bushes before a word can be said, their work left behind oddly half-finished. Her arms held crossed against her chest by the silver-silken wrappings, Rillwhisper lets off a breathy whimper-growl, rolling back onto her back again as her treacherous perceptions seem to play havoc with her knowledge of where her body lies. Her eyes drop closed, prompted by the sweet, languorous scent of that flower braided into her hair, so close to her face. But still, something tugs at her thoughts, a little niggling; had she heard him? Another faint sending trickles forth from her, barely detectable. Lonehowl yelps faintly, too slow to fend off the scratching of the Preservers, and a few small marks of red dot his face and upper body area. The sting actually helps him more than it hurts him, for it gives him something else to grab onto, aside from Rillwhisper's predicament. He crawls back over to her, seeing things in a haze by now, and tries to reach out and touch her. She is there. The bugs have woven their threads about much of her slender frame, at least the upper part. Her legs and her face are still free; her features are damp, with lingering beads of water, and streaked with a few traces of the flower dust. There is a large purple bloom entwined into her hair, brushing against her cheek, incongruously delicate. The..flower. The reason why both elves are always so groggy, if not actually unconscious. He sees the dark mass amid Rillwhisper's lighter coloring, and awkwardly, he fumbles at it with his fingers, inevitably stirring up a bit more pollen in the process, while he tries to get rid of it. The Preservers must have quickly tied the bloom into the red-gold strands; it's easily enough removed, though the effort takes some of those red-gold strands away along with the blossom. Rillwhisper turns her head slightly in the direction of the hunter's awkward hands, however, something deep within her sensing, and responding to, his touch. ** .... ** Lonehowl gets the flower away from Rillwhisper, though he spills some more of that pollen around, coughing on it briefly. His own sending becomes wordless, more a sense that yes, he's there, even if there's not much more he can do than that. Things go dim on him again, and his head lowers to settle on the body of the chieftess. He tries to stay awake. She can't move, and this troubles her, with Gyrr's scent reaching her anew, disturbing the wine-thick, honey-sweet drowsiness that's blurred her thoughts. Once more she sends, managing to form sensations of vague distress and need, a desire for increased contact. Lonehowl clings to that need, for it's something he needs, too. The Recognition...he doesn't know what it means, but he does know that there's an urge..a necessity even, to fulfill something. Groaning softly, he fumbles with his hands - for seeing right now is useless - and tries to undo some of the wrapstuff. The silver-white threads are sticky, and cling to fumbling hands even as they're pulled off the fallen chieftess. It's a slow and clumsy job, and more than once, senses spin, hampering the effort even as it progresses. But it seems to get through to the chieftess, who waveringly reaches out with her sending since she cannot move her arms. ** .......... Free.... me, hunter.... knife? ** Lonehowl manages to reach to his side and draw his flint dagger. Only by touch is he able to slice through the wrapstuff holding Rillwhisper's arms still, and he cuts himself three times, dripping a little blood as a result. ** <> Done..Twyr.. ** Stiffly, with strands of the sticky threads still clinging to them, Rillwhisper lifts up her arms and curls them around the hunter's shoulders, drawing him in relief down to her, needing his scent to fight the clouds still encircling her thoughts. ** Thank you.... ** Lonehowl's blade is returned to the sheath at his side, and he sucks a bit at the blood on his fingers. It'll heal. His answering send is still distant, heavy, almost nonexistent. ** ..welcome.. <> ** Somewhere, he feels Rillwhisper's arms going around him, but he does little aside from lying there, partially draped across her. ** Gyrr, ** comes the chieftess's sending, edged with need, though the edge is a dull one, dull with her daze and her dreaming. ** We must... Hear me... .... ** Lonehowl's body goes limp, as the pollen and his exertion finally knock him out again. But his mind stays active, faintly. ** Twyr.. <> I..remember...must go...get out..do...something.. ** Rillwhisper's arms cradle Lonehowl close to her, one hand in his dark golden hair. She strives to send with all her might, but with her thoughts hazed by the flowers and the water she's drunk, the pull of _Gyrr_ on her soul is a slow and heady seduction only a little louder than the languor in her limbs, rather than the pressing need she knows it should be. ** Listen, ** she tells him, her send far softer than she wishes, far more dreaming. ** We must answer the Recognition, hunter... . ** Lonehowl seems to float on the words and feelings as they reach him, and while his body rests, warm, shallow breathing brushing against Rillwhisper, his mind answers again, distantly. ** <> Aye..Twyr. ** The rest of what he sends has the equivalent of a questioning sense to it. ** Recognition, Gyrr.... do you understand? ** Urgency and need make those words clear in her otherwise languid send, and ever so slightly, Rill's arms tighten their embrace. Lonehowl's answer is a bit distraught. ** I..no... <> I want to..join.. <> ..why..? ** Rillwhisper's thoughts scatter elusively, rather like the Preservers had done, at this response from the hunter. Aware of a dizzying sense of befuddlement, and not sure whether it is his -- or hers, that the notion of Recognition should be alien to him -- the chieftess doesn't immediately answer. When she finally rallies herself for a reply, it comes in scattered flashes of memory... ** ** Despite the states of both elves, Rillwhisper's sent images seem to be just enough for Lonehowl to 'get it.' His thoughts reach out to brush Rillwhisper's mind another time, and there is considerably less confusion than just before. ** Recognition..you..and I...we..? Aye, we..must have a..cub..soon.. <> Must..do it..must leave here.. ** Physically? Nothing. ** Can't wait long, ** Rillwhisper sends plaintively. ** ** And then, sensing the hunter's thoughts sliding from her grasp, the chieftess whimpers faintly, tugging him close again, but to no avail. ** Gyrr, wake, ** she sends pleadingly, but her own head is swirling, drowsiness still threatening to pull her deep into its soft seductive grasp. ** <> I know..soon, Twyr...need to..rest now. Get strongerrrr..... ** Lonehowl's thoughts drift at the end, fading away into the black hole brought on by the pollen in this cursed valley. He can fight no longer now, only hope that next time he awakens, he'll have the strength to escape. His head lolls, coming to rest against Rillwhisper, his breath still soft, slow, and quiet. Disquieted, muzzily concerned that the Preservers may return and render any question of the making of a cubling moot, Rillwhisper _wants_ to rise. But she cannot; she can do no more than hold her Recognized close against her, her face against his hair, putting its scent between her and the thick choking odor of the flowers. With that small but undeniable boost to the need lingering sullenly within her, she follows the hunter down into darkness. [To be continued....]