Log Date: 12/13/99 Log Cast: Aroree, Joy, Simmel, an NPC Glider, Savith, Lanina, Trollkiller, Wayfound, Calmwind, Sela, Silversong, Summit, Jasmael, Woodhawk, Rainfire (emitted by Trollkiller), Dodia, Ekana, Winnowill Log Intro: Disaster has befallen the Willowholt: a severe thunderstorm and flash flood have wiped out the Holt, forcing the elves who dwell within it to flee for their lives. Several in the tribe have gone missing -- including the chieftess, her son No-fur, Talek, and others. About a third of the tribe have managed, however, to meet on a small stretch of relatively stable ground to the south and east of what used to be the Holt. They've received a bit of aid from Streamwind and Journey of the Gathered Tribe, who had journeyed into the area several days ago, and aid from another wanderer named Starsong. But further aid is on its way courtesy of a most unlikely source, according to Silversong: Blue Mountain. Log Notes: Locksends to and from Trollkiller provided courtesy of Trollkiller's log. ---------- Forest Crossroads(#976RJV) This spot is toward the edge of the Willowwood, but still well within its bounds. The earth is packed down on the well-traveled road: this crossing has seen more than its share of visitors in its time. To the north lies the swamp, and the road in that direction is not quite as well-traveled as elsewere. To the northwest is the path that winds to the distant Forbidden River. Off to the southeast, a path trails off towards the distant glade, and farther off to the east lie the vast Greensea Plains. The heat of the day has slowly begun to lift as the sun sinks below the horizon. Contents: Winddance Lanina Savith Simmel(#660PJOUXcm$gy) Jasmael Weathered Hide Tent Suntail Sela Joy Seedling Silversong Trollkiller(#3442PVc$g) Calmwind Obvious exits: Towards the plains To the River Into the Marsh Aroree hands the uneaten portion of her dried meat back to the youth who gave it to her. and disappears off into the wetleands again. Joy sighs softly, trying frantically to think of an alternative to the mountain. Aroree flies up. Aroree has left. Simmel has arrived. Simmel glides down gently through some trees, a most serious and intent expression on his face. Joy is sitting against a tree, eyes on the ground. Four great birds wing into view and begin circling the clearing. An unfamiliar glider sends requesting where is the best place to land? Joy absently reaches nearby to stroke the soft hair of her cub, Summit. Trollkiller is, as before, wrapped up in a large furry ball around Wayfound, scrunched up against Woodhawk (who is inside the tent, but near the door) and Rainfire (who is also asleep). Calmwind looks up at the birds and crouches by his wolf-friend as she rouses from her sleep. He glances nervously at sleeping Trollkiller, at worried Joy, and the other Gliders have left. Then he screws up his courage and directs the gliders to where the other hawk landed. Simmel's eyes scan the scene and those about, and finally enlarge in relief upon seeing Joy, who he hurries over to quickly. Savith has arrived. Lanina has arrived. The first of the great birds lands, depositing a glider with an armload of warm blankets, which he quickly hands to whoever is nearby for disbursement. His send is unemotional ** Is anyone ready to leave immediately? ** Savith drifts down with a shivering and warm Lanina, he appears to be a bit cold and tired himself as he descends almost thankfully to the ground. A sigh escapes him as he moves towards the fire ** I.. I don't think there's anyone left.. ** Trollkiller can't miss that, even in deep sleep, and starts awake as the great bird lands. ** ?! ** Barely more than a little pale mop of hair engulfed in one of the Glider-brought blanket and her Fur-father's embrace, Wayfound hasn't stirred very much in the last two or three hours. But the cub's active, restless mind isn't letting her rest for long. The first thing that impacts her consciousness is Trollkiller's jolting, though she has yet to actually stir herself. Lanina says nothing as she walks over to the fire, holding out her hands in front of her. Joy blinks a bit, also glancing up. She is taken completely by surprise, by the birds, by the sudden inquiry and...most importantly, Simmel's presence. She sits there, mouth half-open, eyes wide. Savith looks to his tribesmates and nods ** Take as many as you can to safety.. I will stay behind in case any more appear. ** he looks around ** At least for a little while ** Calmwind starts to respond to the first Glider with a panicked query and then almost dislocates his neck spinning to stare at Savith. ** Did you find any bodies? ** he demands. ** See any preservers? ** Denial is rampant in his send. Trollkiller blinks, sitting up, still quite sleep-deprived as he gently rolls Wayfound over onto Woodhawk's stomach. ** Anyone else? ** Savith shakes his head to Calmwind, still trying to catch his breath ** Nothing.. I checked the trees and they're all empty.. ** Savith sends openly ** It looks like a total washout.. ** Joy looks pointedly between Simmel and Savith, deciding on one for the moment, "Nobody left?!" She looks on the verge of insanity at those words, her breathing coming a bit shallow. Simmel kneels beside Joy and immediately pulls her into a close and tight embrace. ** High Ones, Joy, what has happened? ** Sela goes over to Joy, tiredness and sadness in her demeanor. ** It is entirely possible others escaped and simply went somewhere outside of sending range for refuge. ** Savith shakes his head, kneeling by the fire, desperate to warm himself ** Nothing... I'm sorry.. ** Lanina 's send is hard, pointedly at the gliders. ** We should not give up. ** Trollkiller shudders, hearing all the words, but not believing them for the most part. ** They must have moved on. Rillwhisper isn't dead. I'd know. ** As Wayfound is shifted next to her still-unconscious Fire-father, she opens up one big ambergreen eye, rubbing fretfully at the other with a fisted hand. For the moment, her defenses still down, she looks exactly like what she is: an exhausted little elf-child, still three-quarters asleep. Calmwind tightens one hand into a fist. ** I don't believe you, ** he sends fiercely. ** Our chief, the others. ** And then, wrenching out of him, ** No one? ** Savith sighs, shaking his head again ** I am not giving up.. just, need to rest a moment.. ** Joy returns the hug of her long lost brother, clutching him as if it meant their lives. Her eyes shut tightly, but she indeed hears Sela's send. ** Yes..yes..they must be okay. High Ones! ** Trollkiller blinks, and squints... ** Simmel? ** Silversong nods, just slightly. ** Rillwhisper isn't dead. But Talek is, ** she sends, a mere whisper of a send. Simmel locksends, to Joy, Trollkiller: ** It's best they stay hidden. The Chosen have orders to bring everyone they can find to Blue Mountain. ** Sela calmly begins being sure those who most need the blankets have them. ** Who shall be the first to go? ** Savith looks up ** I can take two, maybe three with me.. but I shall be leaving last.. ** Swallowing hard against the notion that her chieftess-mother might be deceased, Wayfound croaks tinily to any within earshot: "Where are we going?" Lanina shrugs off her blanket and turns to leave. She is clearly cold and tired. ** I'm going back out there. ** Trollkiller chuffs out a hard breath, and sits down, hard. ** oh. ** Silversong wouldn't, couldn't send it if she didn't know. And he looks confused, over to Simmel. Joy blinks a bit, loosening her grip on Simmel and looking to him, then to Silversong. It's all too much. Savith looks to Lanina, and nods ** If you get into trouble... send.. ** Calmwind swallows, and goes to sit by the fire. Talek, his mother's father... and then Wayfound wakes up, and he finds something new to focus on. He rises mechanically to his feet, fetches more food for her. Simmel stands up slowly - he offers his hands to Joy to help her up if she would like to. He looks over to Trollkiller and nods, once. ** Perhaps we should get them somewhere to rest easy, first. ** Trollkiller locksends, ** It's ... best? What? But it's okay that we're... what? ** to Simmel. Joy takes the hand offered her, shakily standing. Trollkiller ums. ** Okay. ** He pads over to Woodhawk and Rainfire, trying to wake them. Woodhawk's wolf-friend Rockclimber sniffs suspiciously at the very large bird, and stays right bewide Woodhawk, going nowhere. Savith blinks a bit, shaking his head ** On second thought.. perhaps I should go with you, we should look in pairs. ** Simmel locksends ** I do not know why. I know only that Winnowill wants all of you in Blue Mountain. ** to Trollkiller. The glider sends patiently ** The hawks will take you to Blue Mountain where you will all be safe and welcomed until you have recovered sufficiently to choose where you wish to go next. ** Trollkiller blinks blearily at Simmel, then looks around at the little island that's all that's left. Lanina turns at Savith and glares at him. ** I'll be fine on my own. ** She turns away and starts to hover, but shakily, like she's trying to hard. Simmel keeps a hold of Joy's hand. ** I think such a long flight would be too much for them immeidately. They are exhausted. ** Trollkiller locksends ** I... don't find that reassuring. But we have nowhere else we can go right now. And at least we have friends there. ** to Simmel. Joy regards Simmel oddly, then blinks a bit, as if remembering. She lets go of his hand and quickly retreives Summit. "Simmel..." she murmurs softly. Summit has left. Joy lifts Summit carefully into her arms. Simmel. Another long-gone one of whom Wayfound has seen send-pictures... but not the actual living elf. She blinks in consternation at the brother of Joy and Jylien, before Calmwind's approach distracts her and she blinks up at him, her cubling face becoming once more at odds with the sharp intellect within those big liquid eyes of hers. "Thank you," she mumbles to him, as he hands her sustenance. Jasmael pushes up onto her feet, moving over towards the the Gliders present. She doesn't say anything, only letting the work be done. Trollkiller locksends ** Have you seen it? ** to Simmel. Savith watches her a moment, a frown creeps upon his face as he alights, a bit stronger having been given a chance to rest. He glances to Simmel ** They will have a better chance to recover back in the mountain.. we have warmth and food awaiting as many as we can take. Trust me, my friend.. they will be much better off after having a proper rest. ** Simmel locksends ** I have been in it. I do not trust Winnowill ** to Trollkiller. Trollkiller locksends ** It's all gone. Everything is gone. ** to Simmel. Calmwind crouches down a little behind Wayfound, watching warily. He's still uncertain about this Mountain idea, clearly, and uncomfortable with the way it is suddenly happening to them. Another flood, this one of fear, tension, newness. Trollkiller locksends to Simmel, Trollkiller is talking about the holt, of course. It's unrecognisable to even an experienced tracker, a mass of swamp and mud. He shakes his head. ** I don't trust her either. I... had hopes, once, for our two tribes... but... she broke them. Badly. And now... ** Lanina finally finds one of her hidden reserves of strength and she flies off, back over the holt. Trollkiller shakes his head at Simmel - not a negative gesture, but as tho' he's trying to clear his thoughts. Simmel locksends ** And now she wants you all there. Badly. Does that not seem odd to you? ** to Trollkiller. Simmel simply shoots Savith a narrow-eyed, sidelong expression, though says nothing to the tall glider. Savith looks off as Lanina flies up, shaking his head as he darts after her, muttering something about being foolish and headstrong. With one hand, Wayfound nibbles at the share of meat she's been brought. With the other, however, she reaches uncertainly for Calmwind's nearest shoulder. The chieftain's daughter very rarely is physically demonstrative with any who are not her blood kin, but Calmwind... well. As if not entirely sure how such a gesture will be received, she drops a light touch onto that shoulder of his. In the distance, another round of thunder rolls across the sky. From far away, dark, dark clouds are illuminated by lightning, and the winds pick up. More rain is coming. Perhaps a lot of it. Joy remains silent as she watches the two parlay. Summit stirs in her arms, but the cub is obviously too tired to care much about the goings-on. The glider glances skyward. "So, does anyone wish to go, or do you prefer to get rained on again?" He crosses his arms, looking wry. Trollkiller locksends ** Yes, it seems odd! No, I don't like it! No, I don't _want_ to go. But ... I don't think you understand. More than half our tribe is _gone_. Our holt is _gone_. It's _under water_. We have no shelter, no food, no ... I don't want to go, but I don't see what else we can do. ** to Simmel. Trollkiller looks to Savith. ** We'd better go. I don't think this flood is done, and we're not _that_ far above water. ** Calmwind is there for Wayfound, shifting position some in order to be closer to her. He looks down at his hands at the glider's question, and then worriedly at the fire at the mention of rain. Then, finally, he looks soberly down at Wayfound. Joy glances around, looking for the Chief that would make such a big decision. Her violet eyes pause on Trollkiller as she looks to him for his thoughts. Simmel lets out a long, drawn sigh while sweeping his gaze around at those assembled, focussing mostly on Trollkiller. "We need to protect them," he murmurs quietly, then turns back to Joy with another offered arm of assistance for her and her cub. Savith nods to Trollkiller before he gets out of view, he frowns at the stormclouds, then to Lanina before looking back ** Wait for me.. I will return in time, you have my word.. ** Trollkiller looks distinctly uncomfortable at Joy. ** Do you have any better ideas? ** he sends, as the wind picks up and more rain comes. That peal of thunder sends a stricken flash across Wayfound's eyes, and reflexively, her little hand tightens its grip on Calmwind. She swallows hard, the meat suddenly tasting like dirt to her, and then she speaks up swiftly, as bravely as she can manage, "We need to move. Mother would want us to." Joy flickers a glance to Simmel, then back to Trollkiller. She shakes her head silently. Trollkiller nods to Wayfound. She may be twelve, but she's got the sense of chieftan around her - too early to use it, but the moral support is of help. Calmwind nods once, at Wayfound's words. ** Up, then. It's getting colder, anyhow. ** He pushes a smile to his face. The great hawk flutters its wings as the wind picks up some. He lowers his head to make it easier to mount. The glider approaches Trollkiller and Wayfound respectfully. If there is any indication that he is dismayed with the furry elf's appearance, it doesn't get past his cool demeanor. Calmwind locksends ** Flying on a bird... just once. ** Winddance has arrived. Woodhawk, finally mostly awake, sends something to Trollkiller. He's not sure of this either, but like his lifemate, doesn't know what else to do. ** C'mon, Rockclimber. Let's go. ** Joy takes one last moment to gaze around the area, her look forlorn. Winddance flutters down from above, her large feathers already wet with the moisture aloft, she circles the clearing with a sense of urgency. Rainfire sends, ** I'm just going where Trollkiller and Woodhawk go. ** Simmel looks at Joy suddenly with wide, shocked eyes. Getting to her feet, gulping down the last few tidbits Calmwind has brought her as swiftly as any wolfling, yet with a precision that belies her tender years, Wayfound shoots a relieved look at Woodhawk as he finally rouses. And then she bobs her head to Calmwind, gravely, as some sort of unspoken understanding passes between the two of them. A sending, perhaps, but if so, the child doesn't bother to comment upon it. Joy shakes her head, merely shrugging to Simmel. You locksend to Calmwind, Wayfound allows herself a flicker of curiosity, which she shares with you. At any other time, perhaps, this sharp-minded, sharp-eyed cubling might revel in the newness of such an activity... now, though, she's merely seizing upon it as a means of safety and survival. Simmel purses his lips together tightly and offers Joy a simple nod. ** I will look for him. ** The heavy, dark, and pendulous clouds move closer in as the Willowholters collect their few remaining belongings; Rainfire packs his tent, everyone grabs what furs and blankets they can, and begin to evacuate. Calmwind rises after Wayfound, and his wolf-friend comes to his side nervously. He strokes her head as she butts him and looks at one of the hawks. Then, as the chieftess's family moves away, he takes a deep breath. Woodhawk looks up at the huge bird, and settles Rockclimber. ** It's okay, it'll work. Somehow. ** Savith nods, watching Lanina turn back, satisfied he arches towards his bondbird, taking his place on her back before directing her circling towards the clearing. Savith has left. From the back of Winddance Savith has arrived. Joy nods slightly, moving closer to her brother. Trollkiller locksends ** What shocked Simmel? ** to Joy. Trollkiller locksends ** Other than me saying that we _did_ need to go to the mountain, I mean? ** to Joy. Jasmael moves over to where Silversong has sat unmoving since the other Gliders arrived. ** We have to go, mother. It's not going to be safe here. ** A recommendation that seems to make sense in the silverhaired healer's mind, and she comes to her feet, drawn over to the Gliders by her daughter. Winddance circles, her rider on her back until the first of the great birds has cleared, there being really only room for one on the ground at a time. Wayfound might move away, but she doesn't move away very far -- only just enough to try to keep out of the way of the distinctly frightened wolves. And at least momentarily, her ever-restive young mind makes her blurt, her little eybrows knitting, "The wolves -- will the hawks be able to carry them?" Distinctly dubious, she eyes those enormous claws she can see on the nearest of the great feathered beasts. Lanina looks back behind her, eyes widening.... ** Oh high ones... ** She starts flying faster. Joy locksends ** Vale. He's still out there... ** to Trollkiller. Simmel begins to lift himself into the air to begin another, more personal search. ** I will lead the wolves back to the Mountain if I must. They will not be abandoned. ** Winddance circles tightly for a moment before her rider's eyes catch Lanina's urgency and he turns the great bird to intercept. A woosh of her wings and the great bird circles behind Lanina, accelerating in the air to catch up with her as her rider executes a practiced hunting maneuver to get behind and below his struggling kin. Lanina looks back again, past the bondbird and it's rider, straight at the wall of water coming. Trollkiller hoists Wayfound onto the bird. She's going now, as is Woodhawk, who is also slapped upwards. ** GO. ** Calmwind wraps his arms around Rhythm and presses his face against her fur, unwilling to risk losing her as well. But-- he raises his gaze, looks at the other elves, and then hugs his wolf one last time. Joy gazes up at her brother, worry once again passing over her features. She then looks to Savith, stepping toward him. She needs to get her cub to safety, and that's that. No more time to dally, really. Wayfound squeaks as Trollkiller grabs her and thrusts her up onto the hawk; only a moment, however, is required for the girl to get her composure and scramble as best she can into a place to sit up on the bird's back. "Calmwind too!" she suddenly pipes, trying very hard not to sound forlorn. Woodhawk glares down at Trollkiller, who glares right back up at him. ** This time it's MY turn to give the orders. GO. ** Winddance One of the great hawks which are bonded with the Chosen of Blue Mountain. Winddance is truely a beauty of flight and grace. Her body is speckled with brown, black, and white feathers giving her a bit of a peppered appearance, especially at her breast. Her wings however are all brown and black in the typical pattern of the birds. Around her neck is a harness for her rider, Savith to hold onto during flight. Contents: Savith You move up upon the great bird and settle down on it's back. Outside of Winddance Trollkiller nods, and picks up Calmwind. ** You too. GO. ** Savith reaches up to grasp Lanina as it appears she falters ** Get on.. ** he nearly sendshouts before turning the bird to land in the clearing to pick up its precious payload. Outside of Winddance From the distance, a giant rushing sound can be heard. Outside of Winddance Calmwind scrambles away from his wolf, staring at her intently as he scrabbles backwards, towards the bird. Then he is grabbed by Trollkiller and turns to climb on the bird. Outside of Winddance From atop Winddance, Woodhawk sends, ** Not without Rockclimber! ** Outside of Winddance Lanina erks as she gets pulled on, but she doesn't struggle against it. Outside of Winddance Lanina has left. Lanina has arrived. Outside of Winddance Joy glances over the large bird warily, hugging Summit more tightly to her body. She then turns to Trollkiller, waiting for his word. Outside of Winddance Trollkiller nods, and, uncerimoniously, wolf-sends to Rockclimber what he needs to do. Outside of Winddance Trollkiller looks around. The huge rushing sound is getting closer. ** Anyone to any bird, NOW. GO. ** Outside of Winddance Calmwind has left. Calmwind has arrived. Outside of Winddance Winddance arches down towards the clearing, fluttering its wings as the other makes room, Savith calls out to any who remain ** Hurry.. or we'll be caught in the storm. ** the urgency in his send speaks volumes as he too begins to worry. Outside of Winddance Jasmael pulls her mother on to where Aroree is waiting with Talon, both of them climbing to the great hawk's back and lashed in with Jasmael's instructions. ** Come on! ** Outside of Winddance Joy has left. Joy has arrived. Savith has left. Outside of Winddance Savith has arrived. At any other time, Wayfound would take the time to observe everything she can about this great creature onto which she's been thrust. Now, though, as the wind rises, all she needs to know is: ** How do we hold on? ** This, sent sharply and clearly despite her youth, is directed to the gliding one whose bird she's marked Winddance to be. Outside of Winddance Savith arches off the back of the great bird to help others onto the back of his companion's mount, as well as his own ** Hurry, everyone on! ** Outside of Winddance Savith looks up to Wayfound ** There should be ties on the harness.. try and hang on! ** Outside of Winddance The nameless glider exchanges something unspoken with his bond as the huge bird takes to the sky with all it can carry on its back, desperation evident even in the birds eyes as it arches away from the storm. Lanina turns to look at Wayfound, cracking a soft smile for the first time in a while. ** Grab on to me child. Hold on tight. ** Outside of Winddance Trollkiller hops on last, after making sure everyone else is on birdback. It's not a pretty scene, as elves flail everywhere, but in everyone is onboard. Outside of Winddance Jasmael tightens down the harnesses around herself and her mother, and then gives the nod to Aroree. ** Up! ** With the okay given, Talon's wings spread to throw himself into the sky, and away from the thundering rush. Calmwind throws his head back, his throat flashing in the stormlight as he stares at the sky, listening to the weather as it grows, the sound of the rushing, angry water. He holds on to whatever he can, but not as tightly as he should. Outside of Winddance Savith holds out the last of Winddance's hunting bags to Simmel ** Be careful Hunter.. I will see you when you arrive. ** he gives Simmel a look that suggest he actually cares about the fate of what is now one of the mountains own. Wayfound nods once, sharply, to Savith -- and then to Lanina, even as she marks the nearest of the ties in question and determines that she can tie them around herself. Swiftly, she does this, sending, ** I'm tied! Calmwind--** And she flings one of the ties at him, her face full of her urgency. Outside of Winddance Simmel lowers himself from above the trees. His eyes are narrowed and lips pursed. Thought he makes no physical or verbal response to Savith, he does send a wordless acknowledgement. Outside of Winddance Savith turns and arches back up onto his bond's back, grasping the harness of the great bird before issuing the silent, but all too urgent command for his bond ** Winddance.. GO! ** Outside of Winddance Savith has left. Savith has arrived. Calmwind wraps the ties around one of his hands and arm and then crouches down to cling to the tie with his other hand. Outside of Winddance Winddance beats her wings fiercely against the damp air, all too slowly fighting into the air with the massive weight on her back. Lanina turns to look back as the bird she is on lifts into the sky. Outside of Winddance As the great birds leave the ground, straining against the wind and the weight of their emergency cargo, the second wall of water in two days crashes through - and over - the tiny island, washing away everything. At first, it's just a kneecap's height, but then suddenly it's to the chest, then to the height of a Wolfrider, in a huge wave down from the hills nearby. There is a great groaning, one too familiar to the Willowholt survivors, as another grand, old, tall tree crashes down, roots dislodged from the hopelessly waterlogged soil by the mass of cold, rushing water. [And later, after a long and arduous flight, the Willowholt refugees are brought in to Blue Mountain and down from the great aerie of their giant hawks...] Southern Hall(#280RJa) Sheer elegance of size unfolds before you. The Southern Hall, entrance to Blue Mountain, expands upwards into a dark indigo, slowly falling back down in lighter hues, mauve just overhead and a damp pink at foot. Carved and shaped from the stone, hawks and falcons adorn the walls near the entrance. Stone ivy, tainted with a vibrant green and brown of shaping magic, slowly progresses towards the north, first intermingling with real flora, then disappearing behind what could only be lush vegetation for a cavern. To the west, a staircase forms an octagon as it angles down in a colorful and playful design of color. Although the bottom step shares the same rich blue stone as the floor, each consecutive step shifts hues until the last reaches a deep green, leading into the shadows of an arch. To the southeast, another arch decends into a grotto, night-sky blue pillars shouldering either side. The air is fresh and clean, a breeze blowing through unseen places high above. A rich sweetness of vegetation rolls in through the northern arch. Overhead, shadowy bridges span the eastern and western walls, drawn from the very stone. Although lit well enough to make out the distinct details of the hall, the huge space echoes voices and footsteps several times, contributing to the immenseness of Blue Mountain. Contents: Woodhawk Dodia Jasmael Trollkiller(#3442PVc$g) Ekana Obvious exits: Stairway Grotto Into the Air Blue Mountain Catacombs Main Hall Dodia scurries down the stairs, a dark flash of skin among the pale beings of the mountain. With her, she carries several blankets and cloaks, "I'm coming!" She calls, bare feet hitting the floor as she moves towards the crowd. Now, sending would have been a good thing for her to know. She wouldn't be late. Lanina has arrived. Calmwind has arrived. Savith has arrived. Savith drifts down the steps after Dodia, carrying as many blankets as he can muster. Rockclimber backs away from the bird, his hackles still raised, wet and shivering though the great wolf is. A gaggle of soaked, demoralized, and muddied elves and a few very frantic wolves carried in the claws of the giant hawks: these are the refugees of what's left of the Willowholt, brought in by the Chosen. Among them, young Wayfound, daughter of Rillwhisper, peers around. This child is wearing the look of one who's seen far too much in the last two days than any child ever ought to see, and as she clambers down off Winddance, she's wearing a stoic expression rather more suitable to an elder several centuries old. Woodhawk places a protective hand on the cubling's slim shoulder, though his expression is a bit dazed, several-centuries elder though he is. Ekana enters the Hall as the group appears Lanina looks around slowly. She is not happy to be back in this place. Calmwind slides off the bird, his hand red and marred from where he wrapped the tie around it. He looks at Wayfound, and then at Trollkiller and Woodhawk. Only then does he take in the new place where he is, and his eyes are half-wild. Dodia scuttles to a stop, panting, "Hi.." She says. There's always a bright Sun Villager around when you need one. She drops the blankets and furs on the stone, then her head jerks up, "Dune!" Woodhawk cocks his head at Dodia, and says hoarsely, "thank you, for our lives." Woodhawk sits down and buries his head in his hands. Rockclimber licks Woodhawk, then collapses beside him. Winnowill enters from the great hall, flanked by gliders with blankets, clean clothes and platter upon platter of food. One elf glides in with a huge tankard of wine and many cups to be passed around. Another provides a low open water-container for the wolves. Trollkiller shakeshakeshakes to try to dry a bit, the storm having caught up with us even as we were leaving, and steps forward when Winnowill appears. He's not sure what to do - and he should be, having seen Rillwhisper greet ... but she's not an outsider, this is _her_ inside, and he's the one from elsewhere. Lanina slides off the bondbird. She slinks away from the main group as Winnowill and her welcoming party appears. Wayfound takes a moment to stroke Woodhawk's hair as the firestarter sinks down, her own eyes still a little wild as well, her small slender form having been battered by the storm through which she and her tribesmates have been flown. The sound of the arrival of many more of the Mountain's denizens -- not to mention that of the Mountain's Lord -- brings her attention sharply around, however, and she straightens up to her full height. Granted, that's only a few inches over three feet... but still. Dodia is standing frozen, a pile of furs and newly made blankets on the floor before her, she glances towards Savith, "how..how far away was the flooding? Will Dune be okay?" Winnowill's voice rises, loud enough to be heard, but gentle nonetheless. "There is a room for bathing with warm water very near here. Those who wish are welcomed to use it, we shall make every effort to ensure your comfort while you are guests in our Mountain. Our Willowholt brethren are most welcomed here." She inclines her head to Jasmael specifically. Trollkiller breathes deeply, and sends, ** Greetings, Lord Winnowill. The Willowholt thanks you for your aid and our rescue. We've met; I am Trollkiller. Our Chieftan Rillwhisper Wolfbringer is still missing. ** Savith shudders, still recovering from the cold himself, he looks very worn and tired as he settles on the steps, managing a nod instead of his customary bow to Winnowill before looking to Dodia "I'm sure he'll be fine.." he sighs, hugging himself to gain a spot of warmth in his soaked and soiled leathers. Winnowill Skin of the softest ivory with hair blacker than a starless sky, such is the figure before you. Ever-changing peacock eyes are sharp with intelligence and calculation, and a delicate pink mouth is often curved with the faintest expression of inner amusement. A dress of faintly irridescent indigo mothsilk is the newest addition to this most ancient figure. It flows as she moves like morning mist around the Mountain's eternal spires. Her expression is softer than it has been in longer than just about anyone can remember, a calm enfolds her even more gently than the silk. You could imagine that the anger, the ferocity she once expressed so openly has been smoothed and washed away to a smooth alabaster pebble. And then you see her eyes again, as brilliant as stars, and the strength of purpose and iron will behind this graceful form. Woodhawk shudders as Trollkiller sends the word "missing". Winnowill nods to Trollkiller "I was so informed. Please accept my sympathy for the loss. Gliders will be searching the area once all of those accounted for have been properly seen to." She turns to regard Wayfound with interest. "You appear to be the very image of Rillwhisper, child. What is your name?" Dodia nods, relaxing at that reassurance from the Chosen, she pushes the furs and blankets towards the drowned elves, then pulls one away, padding towards Savith with it. Her feet are bare, running in leather on stone wasn't her idea of fun it seems. Lanina leans against a pillar, examing the damage done to her old battered talon whip in the storm. Sela arrives from the catacombs to the south. Sela has arrived. Trollkiller holds Wayfound's hand, and sends, ** Her name is Wayfound; Rillwhisper, my lifemate, is her mother. ** Calmwind sinks down to the ground in a crouch, close to Wayfound, probably behind Woodhawk. As food arrives, he sniffs at it hungrily, but makes no move to partake just yet, staying with the huddle of Wolfriders. Sela emerges rather after everyone else, and looks utterly exhausted. Savith nods to Dodia, wrapping himself up in the fur she's brought him, he draws his knees to his chest, trying to keep himself warm. Woodhawk does not rise from his huddle by the cubling's feet, but adds to Trollkiller's send, "our cubling." Trollkiller looks over to Sela, and a brief send flies through the air. Trollkiller locksends ** My eyes see with joy. I need friendly faces now... thank you for being here, even so tired. ** to Sela. Winnowill's dark eyes settle upon Woodhawk. Perhaps there is a gleam in them, but if so, her countenance reflects nothing but sympathy. She merely inclines her head. Food is passed around, and cups brimming with wine to warm the heart of the bedraggled refugees. Sela locksends ** I had thought to never set foot here again... but it is well, I think. It is a good place for recovery. ** to Trollkiller. Trollkiller locksends ** That's not something I'd expected to hear anyone say. ** to Sela. So _this_ is Winnowill: yet another elf of whom Wayfound has seen sending pictures, yet not the source from which they are derived. Her ambergreen regard lifts up and up to meet the peacock one of the Glider Lord, before flickering momentarily to Trollkiller, then to Woodhawk. Then back it goes to Winnowill, studying her with an intensity that doesn't match her cubling's face. As Trollkiller and Woodhawk go to the trouble of identifying her, she doesn't bother to do so herself, nor does she say anything else. At last, as Winnowill steps away, the child peers sidelong at her pair of fathers, silently seeking a cue for action from them. Dodia crouches down next to Savith, a hand rubbing at the fur, she's not really sure what to do for cold. now heat, heat she understands. But still, isn't it strange to see a Sun Vilager be so nice to a Chosen? Sela locksends ** <> There was much I experienced here I would rather not repeat, but I never felt that it was an unsafe place to be. Merely that a stone house, however lovely, holds no appeal to one who prefers the trees and sky. ** Trollkiller looks around to the Willowholters, as nothing is said for a while - and thinks for a minute. Then he sends, ** C'mon, eat! It's food and it's ... ** He realises what everyone is waiting for, and he steps forward to one of the trays and takes a bite. ** And it's good. ** Winnowill sends an inticing image of a warm bath "Let those who are chilled come to the bath when they are ready. The food may as easily be served there." Rainfire steps forward from behind Trollkiller and samples from the tray. He's too distracted by hunger to pay attention to the all-but-completely-alien environment around him. Trollkiller locksends ** Help me, beloved - I'm... I don't know what I'm doing. And it's not in me to feel it out. ** to Woodhawk. Lanina sets her talon whip back on her hip and leans against the pillar, arms crossed. One by one, the flood-battered elves begin to venture towards the food. As they do, Wayfound nods once to herself, perhaps in comprehension of Trollkiller's effort to encourage everyone else. Once again, however, the child's gaze slides intently back to the tall graceful figure of Winnowill. A moment, and then the little one pipes to her in a low, husky tone that, like her gaze, fails to match her childish features, "As my Fur-father has sent, Lord Winnowill, thank you for your hospitality." Woodhawk locksends ** i'm here, love. i'm watching. i don't know either, but if the rains couldn't kill us i don't think this will either. ** Woodhawk and Rockclimber join Trollkiller in sharing the food. Lanina snaps her head at Sela. Calmwind joins the other elves in eating, although he is cautious and slow, as if he has no appetite. His wolf recives a lion's portion of his meal and then he hugs her again and sinks back against her side, watching carefully, his every muscle radiating 'now what'. Winnowill inclines her head to Wayfound. ** You are all ** the inclusive is stressed slightly ** Most welcomed here. ** Lanina turns her head to look at Winnowill. Trollkiller eats carefully, probably moreso than necessary - noone is actually starving yet, in the true sense of the word, and turns again to Winnowill as she sends. As she _sends_ her welcome. He's surprised. Genuinely. Dodia glances towards Winnowill, nodding towards the Lord of Blue Mountain. She doesn't watch her for long, just goes back to trying to warm Savith. Trollkiller swollows, and replies, ** Thank you. That's ... quite a bit different than in the past. I'm glad of it, and thank you for it. ** Woodhawk finishes eating, saying aloud, "our thanks, for the hospitality and the nourishment both." it isn't clear if he's speaking for his wolf or his tribesmates. Winnowill smiles faintly "Much has changed in our relationship." Savith leans into Dodia tiredly, resting his head on her shoulder as he sighs, the events of the last couple days having taken their toll on even this conditioned Chosen. Trollkiller sends to the whole tribe ** Eat and rest for now, everyone. As soon as the flood lets up, we'll put together parties to find the missing. ** Savith's eyes open slightly to something as he looks to his Lord, nodding once in acknowledgment. Trollkiller nods to Winnowill. ** And apparently, something of it has been for the good. ** He notices as mud flakes from his fur, and bites at his lower lip. ** I... believe you said something about a bath. ** Dodia settles herself next to Savith, the dark little Sun Villager just lets the Chosen rest against her. She watches the rest. Winnowill smiles and offers her own hand to the furry elf, to lead him to the bathing chamber. Lanina shakes her head, silently to herself. Nuances, in every word sent, in every word spoken. Wayfound, her fine pale brows drawing together over those enormous ambergreen eyes of hers, takes in the exchanges between her fathers and Winnowill. Each face gets a level stare from the little elf-girl, until at last she turns to check on Calmwind. The chieftain's daughter rather likes the idea of a bath herself -- and Trollkiller's mention of it gets him another look. Along with the hand with which Winnowill beckons. Calmwind scratches behind his ears and flakes more mud off and then shakes his fingers. ** Not sure I remember what warm water feels like anymore. ** He's been watching the conversation as well, with a different kind of intensity than the elf cub, something half absorbed in himself. Trollkiller reaches out and touches Winnowill's hand. Something, something very fundamental, has changed here. Hopefully for the better. ** We'd go... together, I think. It's our custom. Is everyone ready? Can you move on? ** There's a shivery feeling coursing up and down Wayfound's spine. Her hackles are up, her mother would say, but the cubling tries not to think too closely about that right now. Instead, a momentary glimmer of awkward uncertainty crosses her eyes as she touches Calmwind's shoulder and murmurs to him, "Want a bath?" Woodhawk nods, as does Rainfire. Woodhawk hovers very, very protectively around Wayfound, not letting her get more than an arm's reach away. Winnowill smiles quietly and awaits the rest of the ragged little tribe to respond. Calmwind startles under Wayfound's touch this time and looks at her, surprised. Then he nods and says in his soft voice. "Yes." He looks beyond her to the other tribemembers and nods again. That's enough of an answer for the cub. Wayfound turns, more or less satisfied, to follow the others. Sela moves tiredly toward the bathing chamber, not enough of a pack animal to feel the need to wait. Sela has disappeared to the southeast into the shadows of the catacombs. Sela has left. Winnowill has disappeared to the southeast into the shadows of the catacombs. Winnowill has left. Trollkiller follows Winnowill to the southeast. Trollkiller has disappeared to the southeast into the shadows of the catacombs. Trollkiller has left. You begin the long, curving descent leading to the grotto. Grotto(#564RL) Water cascades from the very heart of this cavern, from its spiralling roof down over the forms of stone to the uneven floor. In the center of the room a number of circular basins nest, each within a larger one, sinking in order into the floor and edged with shells shape from the very stone. Water fills each of these basins, as in the old days, constantly flowing from the fountain clean and being eventually drained away. The circulation ensures only the very purest water is in the basins at any given time. Illuminated with the same far-off luminescence as the water and most of the Mountain, two paths sinew off into the stone: one low-ceilinged hallway, and a set of stairs descending into the floor. Contents: Calmwind Trollkiller(#3442PVc$g) Winnowill Sela Generi cradle Obvious exits: Stairs South Hall You may +view the fountain. Sela has already left her ruined and muddy clothes in a pile and climbed into the warm basin. Trollkiller blinks, as he looks around the cavern. It's... familiar. It's... it's like our fountain! ** Only... huge! ** Winnowill chuckles quietly. "Elves do have similar ways of thinking, after all..." Sela works at untangling the mess of her hair. Trollkiller sniffs at the warm water. ** It... smells of nothing, really. Except water. ** He slides in, after Sela. Later, maybe, Wayfound will give herself the time to absorb everything she's seen in Blue Mountain thus far. For now, though, the little elf troops stoically in the company of the rest of the Willowholt refugees. Once the bathing place is reached, though, it seems that something _can_ make this child stare with something approaching wonder. Then again... it might just be exhaustion. Wayfound still isn't saying. But the sight of Sela already in the water and Trollkiller moving to join her speaks of its safety so far as she is concerned. With the same methodical precision with which she'd studied the Aerie, the youngster begins to strip. Rainfire, as he's been wont to do these last several hours, follows Trollkiller fairly closely - this time, into the water. ** This feels _very_ odd. ** Trollkiller isn't used to water that's both warm and pure. ** That's because it's warm. They have it in the Sun Village. But it smells funny there. ** Winnowill chuckles faintly at the reactions and guestures for waiting gliders to collect the scattered clothing for cleaning and needed mending. Calmwind removes his clothing and neatly folds it before stepping into the water. He tilts his head at the flow of water through the fountain and then bats his hand once at the surface before sinking under the warmth up to his shoulders. Then he sighs. "I couldn't have saved the big one but I wish I'd been able to save something..." Winnowill tilts her head. "Could a seedling be rescued, perhaps? For your new Holt?" Trollkiller nods to Calmwind. ** As soon as the weather clears and the flood subsides, we'll start a ground search. ** Trollkiller looks at Winnowill. That's just not something he expected to hear either. ** Well. If. Sweetleaf's spirit were to follow us, we could start with just about anything. A twig would do. ** Cleaning and much mending are going to be needed for this assortment of leathers, unfortunately. They've seen two seasons of hard rain. Wayfound's leathers are no exception, and neither are Woodhawk's. The cubling and the firestarter keeping a paternal watch over her turn their leathers over with a bit of consternation, but Wayfound can be seen to wrinkle her nose at the sorry state of her little jacket. At last, though, she slides into the water next to Calmwind -- and Woodhawk takes her other side. But both cubling and firestarter look towards Winnowill at her silken inquiry, for they're both at least fairly certain that their tribesmate wasn't speaking of the trees. Trollkiller wasn't, most assuredly. ** We have a lot of missing. We'll find them. One way or another. ** Sela finds a comb and begins yanking through her hair. Unbraided, there is actually quite a lot of it. She does not offer any words for the losses, as she feels herself rather a new member and therefore not so emotionally invested as the others. Calmwind runs a wet hand through Wayfound's mop of hair and then ducks himself completely under the water, coming up and shaking himself thoroughly. ** Sure, ** he sends. ** And everything else can be remade. ** Eventually. Trollkiller's fur sheds mud well, and, being a summer coat, doesn't shed _that_ much else. We're lucky it was summer instead of winter. But the water does cloud quickly as he skitches into his own fur, shaking free the mud. Winnowill sends ** Remember that you are not alone now. The gliders shall be delighted to have such an immense project as helping you repair and renew your belongings. It is only a sorrow that the lives lost and scattered cannot be so joyfully remade. ** Wayfound doesn't exactly want to think of the fact that all three of the Holt's treeshapers are still missing, which will put a damper in the ability of the tribe to shape new wooden objects -- if not the ability of Sweetleaf's lingering spirit to do pretty much whatever it likes with plant life it touches, so far as she's been able to observe. "Well, so far we only know of one who's actually dead," she points out gruffly. Not dead means therefore alive, and therefore possible to locate. Her little jaw sets, broadcasting this exact determination. Winnowill inclines her head to Wayfound. ** And if they live, then we most assuredly shall find them sooner or later. ** Calmwind suddenly wonders, very quietly, ** Does anybody know who he was with when he was last seen? ** He rubs his fingers through his hair and then pulls the thong he'd forgotten out, letting the long red-brown locks float on the surface of the water. Lanina has arrived after a long descent from the south hall. Lanina has arrived. Sela blinks at Calmwind, "Who?" Calmwind says tiredly, "Talek." Lanina stands in the doorway, silent, almost brooding. Wayfound's gaze lowers grimly down to the surface of the water, and then so does her little head, as she slides her tousled pale locks through the wet warmth. "Mother was trying to rescue him," she mutters. Lanina walks over to the fountain slowly. Trollkiller sends determinedly, ** She's still alive. ** Lanina goes over to a secluded pool. She slips off her leathers and her tunic and slides into the warm water alone. This isn't the first time Wayfound has bathed in warm water -- it pays to have a firestarter around your Holt, after all. But soon enough her little body begins yielding to the soothing caress of the warm waters of this particular pool, and every so often she shakes in unconscious reaction as tense muscles start trying to relax themselves. Trollkiller gets a look from her, again, as she tries to make herself trust in his conviction that Rillwhisper is still Out There. And her gaze keeps ranging all over the room, over Trollkiller, over Calmwind, over Woodhawk and Rainfire. Frequently, back to Winnowill. Winnowill watches benignly over the bathers, making sure their fears are eased enough for them to do the healing they must do. Trollkiller looks to Wayfound. ** You'll understand, when you're older, if you recognise. I'd know. ** Trollkiller is trying to be as reassuring as he can, while, to a degree, reassuring himself. He believes it - otherwise he couldn't send it - but there's still a lot of fear. And it's dangerous out there right now - that assurance could vanish, at any time, a thin cord cut. Lanina begins washing herself slowly, muscles aching from her exposure to the elements. "I... already have an initial theory about the matter, Fur-father," Wayfound solemnly replies, as she discovers little scalloped hollows at the nearest edge of the pool, holding amounts of sweet-scented sand. Her brows knit together again, and she scoops up two fingerfuls of the stuff so that she might sniff experimentally at it. Then she rubs it between her fingers, judging texture, and her attention slides back around to Winnowill. "Would you be so good," she addresses the Lord, "as to identify this substance?" Winnowill chuckles "It is a powder of herbs of chamomile-flowers, a bit of mint, and some specialized ash, mixed with animal fat and then flaked into a soft form." Sela hmfs a little "You use it to wash, Wayfound. Like this." She takes a handful of it and makes a nice pile of suds which she applies to her hair. Trollkiller blinks and leans to look at the bubbles. ** Bubbles! Like frogs make - no, it smells different. ** Trollkiller leans in and looks more closely at one of the larger ones. ** Same little rainbows, tho'. ** Trollkiller takes some of the "sohp" and rubs it into his fur. "Ah," is the cub's sage reply. "I thought I recognized the mint in the scent, as well as the cam-o-meel..." Her eyes widen as Sela leans over to demonstrate its usage, but she is not thrown off as she continues, "Although I did not have a word for that plant. Some of it grew around the Holt, nevertheless. Thank you, Lord Winnowill. And Sela." With that, then, she attempts to replicate Sela's demonstration, lathering a modest amount between her small hands and peering with fierce intensity at the resultant bubbles. Trollkiller giggles as it gets all lathery and spreads it all over. Trollkiller scrub scrub scrub. He's not adding any, but the more he scrubs, the more of it there seems to be. If she's aware that Trollkiller is having a far more childlike reaction to this new discovery than she is, Wayfound gives no sign of it. She's rather more occupied with the fascinating revelation that a small amount of this stuff generates an impressive amount of bubbles, and she does in fact lift her attention back to her younger father to report to him, "Fur-father, you might--" Oh. He's already found this out, has he? Winnowill chuckles softly, watching Trollkiller's delight. Trollkiller tries scraping it off with his hand, and putting it where it'll drain away. And then scrubbing some more, where he scraped. Oops, it just comes back again. Lanina smiles just a bit, listening to the exchange as she washes herself. Trollkiller sends openly ** Uh. Gosh. It seems to ... make a whole lot of... itself, doesn't it? ** Jasmael has arrived after a long descent from the south hall. Jasmael has arrived. Trollkiller scrub scrub scrub. Bubbles bubbles bubbles. Woodhawk giggles tiredly at Trollkiller. Rainfire - oh, Rainfire's asleep again. Wayfound opens her mouth. And then closes it. Trollkiller has more than once advised her that brevity is a virtue, and although she's just now come up with six different little tidbits of knowledge about this new 'sohp' substance, including Trollkiller's own sent observation, all she says by way of reply is a deadpan, "That appears to be the case, Fur-father." As she speaks, she cautiously works a small handful of lather through the ends of a handful of her hair, taking care to observe the behavior of the stuff as she progresses slowly towards her scalp. Trollkiller sends openly ** Brightmark! ** Trollkiller reaches up to touch your hand, but he's kind of discovered soap, and he's, well, foamy. And he can't seem to get rid of it. A scent that Trollkiller catches and recognizes heralds Jasmael's entrance into the grotto, prior to entering, and that brings a smile to her face. ** Never could fool you, Fuzzy. ** Winnowill smiles to Jasmael. Trollkiller continues to scrub. It's still making bubbles. ** Um... this does stop making bubbles eventually, right? ** Trollkiller disappears underwater, where he shakeshakeshakes under the surface. Maybe that'll help. Lanina laughs a bit, watching Trollkiller's antics. Sela says "Try getting under the falling water..." Sela moves over to offer her assistance. Trollkiller, being underwater, doesn't hear that. He resurfaces when Sela approaches, and nuzzles her belly. Jasmael brushes her hand along the dress she's gone back to wearing, the wet leathers having been decidedly uncomfortable as she moves over near to where Winnowill is, though avoiding the pools of water. Of course, the sight of a bubbly Fuzzy is one that she can't resist a giggle at. Jasmael's arrival makes Wayfound swivel her head around towards her. Like Trollkiller, the youngling appears to have discovered 'sohp', but she's used a far more economical amount of the stuff and there is but a bit of bubbly lather in her hair. In the meantime, she shifts her gaze back to Winnowill, remembering. "If I may -- Dusk and Midnight are within this place now, yes? Your Chosen, Tsoran, was last seen by us as he conveyed them away during the storm." Trollkiller oop and realises he'd forgotten to ask. Winnowill inclines her head to Wayfound "They are indeed here. Still resting from their own arduous journey, no doubt." Trollkiller turns to Winnowill, somewhat less soapy - the shaking worked pretty well, actually - in time to hear her answer. ** Oh good. I'd just assumed they made it and... ** He shakes his head. That was bad. Calmwind plays with the soap for a while and then ducks himself repeatedly before clambering out of the pool to doze off and on at the edge while waiting for the rest of the tribe to finish playing. Trollkiller locksends to Woodhawk, ** I have to learn to remember everything. At least until Rillwhisper is back. It's going to be hard - help me. ** Lanina sighs softly. "It's been so long since I've had a bath like this..." A small glimmer of relief lightens the old gaze in that young face, and although Wayfound can't quite manage to match Winnowill's long-practiced graciousness of gesture -- especially with soap in her hair -- she bobs her head by way of reply. "That is good to know. Have they been informed yet that we have arrived?" Her fingers reach her scalp, then, as she continues her thorough ablutions and files away for reference the way the sohp aids in taking dirt out of her hair. Sela touches Trollkiller's back. "Come stand under the waterfall. You may think the soap's gone, but it's just hiding." Winnowill smiles. "They shall be so informed when they awaken. You all need your rest now." Trollkiller stands under the waterfall, as Sela says, and scrubs more. It looks gone, but Sela's right - it doesn't _feel_ gone. Rainfire snorts and looks up. ** I'm not alseep! ** Sela helps Trollkiller with his backside, scrubbing the fur under the running water to wash the soap away. Feels rather nice, too, one might imagine. Jasmael smiles, settling along the edge of one of the pools and watching her tribesmates. Trollkiller rr rr RR RR RR RR rr rr rr rr rr rr rr. Trollkiller notes that's in a good way. Woodhawk shakes his head at Trollkiller. He figured out the soap right away, but it was too much fun watching his lifemate get it all wrong to intervene. Much as she hates to admit it, two or three hours of fitful slumber in the hours since the flood are insufficient -- barely a wolf-nap, especially for a growing cub. Wayfound's expression shifts for a moment, getting that vaguely sulky, stoic look that young elves through time immemorial have worn when they are quite convinced they're Not Sleepy. But the hot water is making her feel sleepy all over again, and so she can't exactly stay in the pool much longer. Her mouth tightens into a determined little line, and the chieftain's daughter works on rinsing her hair now. Sela stifles a yawn herself, tho she's in no way a cub. Lanina starts the process of washing her long hair out. After quite a bit of that, probably more than was just necessary, Trollkiller yawns quite big. ** I think we've taken up your bath space long enough... and we should all get to bed. There's no telling when the weather will break for a ground search, and we should be ready. Thank you for showing us your sohp. ** More directed at the tribe, he sends, ** That means sleeptime for everybody. ** He yawns again. ** Including me. ** Trollkiller nuzzles Sela. ** Thanks for skitches. ** Sela inclines her head "I will stay with the rest of you." Sela emerges from the bath and dries with a well-made cloth. Trollkiller emerges from the bath and dries by shaking really, really hard. Water goes everywhere. Of course, he knows enough to do this where other people won't get hit. Trollkiller sniffs at his fur. Cam-o-meal. And a little bit minty. Sela chuckles at Trollkiller. Lanina washwashwashes her hair. Wayfound gets a brief distracted glimmer of discovery in her youthful eyes -- fascinating, indeed, the way her skin seems to tingle after a good scrubbing with the sohp. Once or twice she sniffs herself, noting the mingling of the aromas of mint and chamomile with her own scent, theorizing on how long the new scents will cling to her, and concluding with satisfaction that her own scent is not obscured beyond recognition. As she has far less hair than Lanina or Sela, and most assuredly less than Trollkiller, she's soon out of the pool and dripping and squeezing water droplets out of her pale locks. Trollkiller shakes some more. He's still not really dry, but should air out soon enough. ** I... _feel_ like I'm dry. But I'm not. ** Trollkiller's brief return to good spirits fades as he realises he won't be sleeping with his whole family tonight. He sighs deeply, biting that lower lip again. As soon as everyone's out of the water, he sends, ** Lord Winnowill, if we might accept your hospitable offer of a sleeping den now... ** Out of the water is good, and warm is good, too; with the chill chased out of her skin and her flesh, Wayfound stands there yielding to a brief but mighty yawn. Out of the water and warm are good, but dry is better, and the child avails herself of a drying cloth. It occurs to her, dimly, that she will have to make further observations about the state of her hair once it is fully dry, to see if the sohp had any lingering effects... but for the life of her, she can't make any guesses now as to what those might be. Most dismaying. "We should sleep," she mutters in agreement with Trollkiller, unable to think of little else at the moment than her self-directed disgust at the way her thoughts appear to be slowing down. Lanina sighs softly and starts rinsing her hair now. Jasmael nods in agreement to Trollkiller's mention. ** It's been a rough night for everyone. ** Winnowill nods. "I think the room you entered first has been cleaned. You may all sleep there tonight, and we shall find more comfortable arrangements for everyone after you are initially rested." Trollkiller nods. ** Thank you. ** Winnowill smiles. "You are most welcome." Lanina pulls herself out of her pool of water and sits on the edge, she takes her hair and starts wringing it out. ** Am I to sleep there as well? ** Trollkiller turns to the unknown elf. ** I'm sorry - I'd thought you were of the Mountain, with the rescue party. ** He turns back to Winnowill. ** We don't mind. ** Winnowill smiles. "She may choose for herself where she stays. With you ... or in her own rooms." Trollkiller looks about to everyone. They're all asleep on their feet anyway. ** Let's go. Sleep now, for when the weather breaks we'll have needed it. ** Trollkiller rustles everybody out of the room. Go Now. [End log.]