“Elder Beechbone, might I have a word with you in private?” The voice came from just beyond the den mouth, cutting through a distant choir of howls; denoting a hunt gone well.
From within rested the large form of Beechbone, surprisingly without his mate Petals or any other company to speak of. Turned away from the entrance, he looked almost to be sleeping fitfully, his response delayed a moment or two, keeping Hazel out in the cold for longer than she would have liked. When at last her scent wafted in, his ear flicked, his nose twitched, and he spun on a sharp swivel; fumbling to his feet to greet her.
“My apologies Elder Hazel Lock,” Flustered, he managed to find purchase on all four and to bow deeply, to which the she-wolf returned in kind. She would not deny herself a chuckle before inquiring further, “Might I enter?”
“Yes, of course! I, uh… I was…” he considered feigning the depth of his concern, but Hazel’s eyes bore into him, filled with concern and inquiry of their own, and they always seemed to expect the truth from him. So, he thought better of it and let loose a heavy sigh instead. “I have a lot on my mind. Young Elves make everything better, the promise of more on the way an even greater surprise and yet… beyond how the pack will view these ‘Outsiders’, the whispers on the wind have me fretting of what’s to come… But first, please, I would like to hear from you? Something is troubling you?”
“Give them time, Beechbone. All things in time… I’m hardly one for patience these days and yet it is all we can do when it comes to allowing the rogues in our ranks.” Her eyes roll, shoulders shrug, and she, of all wolves, gives out a laugh. “And if not time, those opposed to the idea will always have me to contend with. But yes, I am here for other matters. It is regarding the ‘Wound’ we have been hearing about. I know… I realize it is a tricky situation to be confronted with. Considering just how ‘paws-off’ we have always been, it would likely make more sense for The Court to disregard the rumor altogether. But we have risked that before… rejecting our gut reactions. Not trusting our instincts. Beechbone, I’m worried. Not only is the Earth hurting, but she is bleeding strange beasts.”
Hazel hiccups with laughter, disbelief pouring from her expression. “Even saying it out loud sounds absurd. And perhaps it is all just a ruse… but pretending like we don’t hear it doesn’t then make it false. What if the gossip is true? What if there is a wound in the earth?”
Again she pauses, this time to shrug her shoulders, almost in defeat. “Sure, we might not have the numbers to defend ourselves this time around. But with enough warning we can make a better plan. We can save more lives. We can escape if we have to… Wouldn’t knowing be more optimal than not?”
Her age was always more evident the more heated she became, and to slow her Beechbone merely lifted a paw. It would give him a moment to breathe, to consider all that had been said, and the space to reply. And where Hazel Lock thought that, surely, she would have to fight for this; she found that there was very little resistance to be had. “I agree.” The retraction of her neck was far from subtle as a stunned moment overtook her. Beechbone huffed. “What, I’m not always out for a fight… “ “No, of course not Head Elder I would never…” “It is alright, Elder Hazel Lock.” Again, his paw rose to keep her from pressing. “I agree with you, at least in theory. But I may be one of the few… and I want to stress that despite your points being valid, we have only just started to settle in here. Many are still healing and reeling from The Fall. Sure, this could be a great threat, and yes… I think it warrants some insight but I will not risk our brethren in order to obtain it. I cannot force anyone to leave, nor will I ask anyone to. We can develop our bonds with the creatures beyond the valley, request that Scouts begin asking more questions in regards to the wound, but…” Sensing her irritability, he speaks quickly through a breath. “I will not stop anyone from going.” “I’m going.” “What?”
“I’m going. It is important for the Elves to see that even their Elders are willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. They need to see it Beechbone. They need to know that bravery lies within them still. We have Chroniclers who write down the entirety of our histories so that we can be remembered by them… continue living through them. What good is all that if we are not willing to live?” “I…” His own shoulders rolled this time, defeat playing upon them in the same way they had his companions. A hint of frustration lingered there as well, which he blinked out of existence. He had fallen onto haunches at some point throughout their conversation but would at that moment rise for a second time, shake free the dust that clung to his pelt, and stride toward the den’s entrance. “The Elves have never known a courage quite like yours, Elder Hazel Lock. Gather a group and ensure that anyone else traveling beyond the valley does the same. Should they choose to go alone it is at their own discretion…gather as much information as you can. Make this worth the risk.” Turning quickly over his shoulder, the Head Elder flashes a sad smile to the young, hotheaded, and stubborn Elf. “Return home, Hazel. We cannot rebuild without you.”
WC: 977
