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A storm raged over Homewood, the sky flashed with brilliant lightning, thunder growled threateningly as heavy rain pattered down from the heavens. Dousan sat curled up in his den, deep in thought, watching the few patches of night sky he could see disappear between those streaks of light and the deeply dark clouds that rolled slowly on overhead, drifting towards the barrens. Romy lay curled into a crescent deeper in the den, as far back from the entrance as she could. She was asleep, if a mite fitfully. Probably due to the weather, but then she always seemed to have trouble resting peacefully if it were storming. He made a note in his mind to ask her about it sometime. If it were just a sound issue, he could always try to bring further soft things into the den for her to bury herself in to help muffle the worst of a storm's fury. If not, well, he'd see when he broached the subject with her. A worry for another time.

Dousan was feeling odd, a strange mix of awake and alert, yet introspective. It was a clearer, calmer night that this when he had first felt the call to seek out the Grandfather Tree, to receive his gift, his tool to better heal Vykeli. He was a younger buck then, not too different a noul than he was now, just younger. His elder sister joked that he had matured even before she did, that he grew into himself so quickly. The buck softly chuckled at the thought. There were some things that had changed. Tearing his gaze from the storm, he glanced back to Romy's sleeping shape. He had new friends, new acquaintances, was more established. Dousan had thoughts of how he could best help nouls, not just within Homewood, but outside of it too. Little ways mostly, some less so.

Then, suddenly, there it was. That plucking at the edge of the mind, the sensation of drawing forward. Grandfather Tree was calling and he was prepared to answer the summons. Carefully, quietly, he rose to his hooves. He bid his scuttle scale friend a silent farewell, Dousan spared only a single glance toward the raging skies then emerged into the deluge. He was soaked through almost immediately, but that didn't deter him. Dousan left Homewood at a pretty good clip. Before long, the storm evaporated around him as did the rain that had seeped to his very skin. This and the desert night kept him quite cool as he made his way to the Grandfather Tree. The skies were utterly devoid of clouds when the mystic oak's rise came into view, the tree standing spectral white and nigh luminous in the clear night. The buck reverentially approached and gazed upward into the tree's branches. "Grandfather Tree, I'm here. I'm ready."

[WC: 472]

In one instance, Dousan gazed up into the vast branches of Grandfather Tree and, in the next, he was back in Homewood. But, it wasn't his Homewood, the lush familiar landscape that he had only just left. There was something very, very wrong and the buck felt it immediately upon getting his bearings. This Homewood was somewhat warmer that what he was used to, plantlife all over was looking more withered, less green. Dead or dying trees dotted the forest around him. The more he walked, the more his concern grew. There were so few fruiting trees and those that were hanging in there appeared to have smaller, less healthy looking fruits. Grasses looked more sparse and the vast majority of it looked dangerously dry. What had happened here?

When going to seek answers, he was quickly filled in. No one was absolutely certain, but things stopped growing and started withering wherever life had originally flourished. Food was growing ever increasingly difficult to find. Noulicorns were going hungry. The buck's heart raced and his mind spun. Nouls were starting to starve and Homewood was balanced precariously on the edge of being consumed by the wasteland! What to do? What to do?

He walked to take a better account of the extent of what was going on, to move his body while his mind worked away at the problem that he was facing. It took some circling, some further talking to nouls, for the buck to make up his mind. The dwindling food supply of Homewood couldn't support its full population. If everyone stayed and just hoped things would turn around...Well, there'd be a lot of dead nouls. The thought made Dousan grimace.

Dousan sought out any residing Council members he could find and, after greeting each and introducing himself, carefully walked them through his train of thought.

"I know this is going to be a hard sell, but please, honored Electus, hear me out. If every soul currently residing within Homewood stays here, we will lose our home and everyone with it. What if only those too young, too old, or too ill to safely journey across Vykeli remained, with a modest amount more able bodied scouts or guards, be they giftless, apprentice, adept, or ascended, to help keep any remaining safe from any opportunistic predators that may come prowling. The much smaller population could last for longer on what remains, plus the more fit of those who stay can go foraging in the surrounding areas and bring their findings back here."

"For everyone else, we can break off into nomadic bands. These bands will have numbers for safety and, if balanced well, will have at least a couple of apprentices and adepts of each gift. If any group has more leanings towards certain gifts, perhaps an ascended of one of the other gifts can be appointed to help lead so that no one group is lacking anything. If at all possible, families should be kept together, unless they themselves opt to split up into different nomadic bands. Families and loved ones will be able to encourage and support each other without having to learn to trust strangers or distant acquaintances. Now, these nomadic bands aren't going to be just sent out with a "Good luck to you". Be it a Homewood wide mandate or different tasks given to each, but they can be searching for answers, for resources, and, if all else fails, alternate places we can settle, maybe try to create new Homewoods, of sorts, in the places that show the most promise."

"Each group should have at least one herald, or at least herald aspirant, so that lines of communication can remain open between groups and between them and those remaining in Homewood. A navigator, a couple of healers, of course, or, again, those who desire to learn those skills. A bard and a companion to help with morale. Everyone will need to start trying to focus on getting some skill in a role or two. Everyone will need to help bear the burdens of the group, but by having nouls rely on each other, they'll be made all the stronger for it." He paused, a half sighed chuckle escaped him. He was suddenly struck by a memory. "My grandpa used to tell me, 'Lad, don't ask for a lighter load. Pray for a broader, stronger back.' In our time of need, we'll all need to lean on each other, Electus, to support the weight of our world, that of our survival."

"For the young that mature here, those injured or ill that recover to health can opt to accompany visiting heralds on their return trips to their home bands. Not only would that lessen the stresses here, but it'll be a way to keep variety among the nomadic groups. Depending on how long we must scatter, there should be planned gatherings of multiple groups to allow for exchanges of members, or at the very least give those in attendance an opportunity to mix, mingle, and otherwise learn of where all the others have been, learn what they've learned. We mustn't lose touch with our community at large, even if we are scattered. We mustn't forget what we mean to each other, who all we're doing this for. It's going to be a lot to ask, and the prospects are scary, but I feel that we stand our best chance if we lessen the burden on our ailing Homewood, for ourselves and our home here. I would be happy to volunteer to run from noul to noul spreading the word if you feel there is anything to what I've offered here today. I'd gladly take on a role in one of the nomadic groups, or wherever you deem to place me. Wise Electus, please consider what I've said. I fear our time here come to a quick end if we don't act soon." Dousan looked from face to face of the council members, then to those who had gathered to listen. His tail lashed anxiously behind him but he spoke clearly and steadily, such was his belief in his convictions. He didn't know the future, but he'd be damned if he was going to see his hopes for it scattered to the dry, desiccating winds from inaction.

[WC: 1050]