Monday, April 19, 2004  

Random Elfquest [3/??]

The Fathertree was old; a majestic black oak like its surrounding brethren, but much larger and wider. Countless tree-shapers had encouraged its growth, creating from it the warm, comforting havens
that housed the RavenOak Wolfriders.

On a normal night, the elves, sixteen all together, would be out and active. The calls and laughter of one elf to another. The children, Gust, Breeze, and Mockingbird, playing a game of Hide and Find-me
while their parents watch in amusement. Songsmith the Howler getting into yet another argument with Nightfire...

However, as Mist dropped off of Featherfall's back, the holt was silent, and the silence unnerved her. Her father, Skunkstripe stood at the base of the Fathertree, arms folded as he waited for the tribe to
assemble.

In silence, Mist joined her mother, seating herself on one of the mighty tree's exposed roots. She took a quick count of those present.

~And, where have you been?~ Dancer asked.

Mist spared a quick glance at her mother. "Around." Catbane, Skychaser's mother, was there, as was Woodloom, the tree-shaper. Woodloom's twin sons, Gust and Breeze, were also there, and they made
faces at her. She rolled her eyes, but flashed them a quick smile and a silent ~Cubs!~ which sent them into a fit of giggles until they noticed their father's expression. Darksight, his lifemate Snakestrike, and their young daughter Mockingbird were all present and accounted for. And, here came Skychaser, taking a seat in one of the tree's lower boughs.

So, where was Longaim, Nightfire, Songsmith, and Greenblade? 'Probably hunting,' Mist mused.

She gradualy became aware of eyes a shade darker than her own narrowed on her face. "Mist."

She grimaced. "I was at the humans' holt. But, not for very long." Although she had inherited her mother's lithe body, she had gained nothing of her mother's caution. "I wasn't seen, Mother."

Dancer touched her daughter's shoulder. "You could have been hurt."

"I wasn't," Mist said firmly. After a tense moment, mother and daughter finally broke eye contact.

The change was almost palatable. Skunkstripe's face darknened as he lowered his arms, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword. His attention was fixed on the elf approaching the Fathertree.

The newcomer bore such a strong resemblance to Skunkstripe that it was obvious they were brothers. They were both stocky, with the same dark eyes, black hair, and stern, chisled features. Skunkstripe's hair was marked with a thatch of snow-white, hence his name. Mist's uncle lacked the snow-thatch, but the scar along the left side of his face and neck more than made up for that defining feature.

She heard Darksight mutter, "What is /he/ doing here?"

If Scar heard him, he gave no sign. He scowled at Skunkstripe. "What is the meaning of this, brother? Why bother me?"

"There are matters that need attending to," Skunkstripe said.

'Something isn't right about this.' Mist turned a puzzled gaze towards her mother, but Dancer's attention was on her lifemate. Her expression, though, proved that she, too, felt the distuarbance.

But, Scar was talking. "And what 'matters' are they? And, moreimportant, why should I be bothered with your petty concerns?"

"This concerns us all, Scar." Taking a visible grip on his anger, Skunkstripe turned his eyes on his tribe. "The humans' holt grows daily. Too long have we ignored this fact, and now I fear that we may
pay for that ignorance.

"The humans are cutting a path through the forest.

"The Fathertree lies within that path."

Exclamations of surprise went up among the gathered elves. Humans in the Holt? Unthinkable! How could this be prevented? How could this be stopped? How long until they arrived? How-

Laughter. Cold, mocking, and hard. It broke into Mist's thoughts and silenced the group of elves.

Skychaser leaped to his feet. "What are /you/ laughing about? This affects you just as much as it does us!"

Scar's voice dripped contempt. "How exactly does the destruction of /your/ holt affect how /I/ live? I'm nothing more than an example of how all you are going to be soon, cub: homeless wanderers."

"You lie!" Teeth bared, Skychaser nearly lunged at the older elf, but Mist leaped in front of him, blocking his path. ~Lovemate, control yourself!~ She caught his gaze, holding it until he looked away,
chargined.

Mist took a deep breath and turned towards her uncle. "We will not lose our home."

"No, we will not." The look Skunkstripe gave her was approving. He swept his gaze among the tribe. "We will not lose our home. Nor, will we allow the humans to continue their destruction of the forest. We
will stop them."

"And how are supposed to do that?" Catbane said.

"War." Scar's smile was cruel.

"Not war," Skunkstripe said firmly. He glared at his brother. "I do not intend to repeat Two-Spears' mistake and have my tribe slaughtered."

"Then there's nothing you can do."

"There /is/ something we can do. Humans are superstious. They think we are spirits. It is time we reinforced that belief." He smiled briefly, and Mist caught a glimpse of the mischevoiusness she had inherited. "We will teach them that to destroy the forest is to incur the wrath
of their 'spirits.'"

Mist was grinning as broadly as her father. 'So, that's where the others went.'

Scar snorted. "You called me here for this?"

"I called you here because you are my brother, and still a member of my tribe, whatever else you think. I want your help, Scar."

"Help you? Pester humans?" Scar glared at the elves around him, and suddenly his face became thoughtful. "Hm... Perhaps, I will. On my own terms, of course."

"Of course."

A look, a shared sentiment, passed between the two brothers. Scar smirked at the gathering and walked away.

Almost immediatly, the tribe relaxed. Questions asked in excited voices littered the air. Mist leaned back, into Skychaser's embrace, and met her father's eyes with a smile.

Time for some fun.

   [ posted by Kristin @ 6:28 AM ] [ ]