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 Posted: Fri Mar 06, 2009 1:53 am
*Just leave the Glider to me and go play with the others* Crosscurrent lock-Sent with a knowing look that was close to becoming a smile again. And as Fathom's attention turned away he turned his to Savith.
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Posted: Fri Mar 06, 2009 3:39 pm
Dewpaw sat through everything that was happening, figuring it would be smart to let the elders work out their problems. Even if she wanted to, the sends were going to fast, elves were moving to fast, too fast everythignw as getting out of hand then back in then out all over again. It was fight that was an elf, that had a life of its own, and feet as quick as any wolfriders. That was all she could think of, a fight that had the life of an elf. And why not, they were all elves. This fight was between elves, one after another. She decided it had to be an elf like Dancer or Pey, who drew others in, cause people kept coming. But it also had to be like the Black Snake who whispered and twisted. And Dew didn't enojy that image. She cringed away from it, backing up into Morningtail and grabbing a fistful of his fur as she watched everything happen.
She was glad when it ended, when everyone tried to get things back to the party, back to celebration. She had accepted the noise maker from llune, but didn't move at first. She wanted to wait until she knew the fight was dead, gone. She looked over as Dancer dragged Tidalwave towrad the fire to dance, where she saw Pey also dancing and Creek watching. She smiled and sent to Morningtail to join in. Morningtail licked her face before letting out a howl. Dew jumped up and did the same. She ran toward the fire and the others, dancing wildly in a half crouched position. The noise-maker from Llune was left in the sand, not beacuse she didn't want it, but because she was lost in the dance and the howl, and making her own noise. She loved the howl and let it wash over her and she twirled around, letting her feet strike sand before shifting to spin the other way. There was no real rhythm to her style, no beauty like in Pey's or Dancer's. Her style was wild and raw. ((Of course, that might just be becuase she's a cub and hasn't learned to dance. Who knows))
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ChosenSavith Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Mar 06, 2009 7:00 pm
Savith half-watched the wavedancers. Most of his attention was on the retreating rock shaper and the impressionable cub. As everyone made theirway back toward the festivities and Dancer's locksend brushed his mind, he chuckled lightly, lips curling in a half-grin. He nodded faintly, giving Crosscurrent one final glance, one in which he noted the wavedancer's attention on him fully. The glider-chief quirked a brow and waited, grin fading only slightly.
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Posted: Fri Mar 06, 2009 8:40 pm
Llune has stood off to one side all this time, shifting her weight from foot to foot like a nervous child waiting for punishment. Zayn's words were forgotten in the wake of her son's harsh send, and she looked pointedly at her feet as Autumn left.
Airana's innocent explanation was heard, and the underhanded nature of it was not lost upon the ancient elfess, as it was in nearly the same tone other gliders had used when extending their biting "compliments."
When the waterelfess addressed her directly, Llune looked up, her eyes full of some inexpressible sadness, though she somehow managed a faint smile and a nod. Her send was but a very nearly heartbroken whisper, the slight jingle of the test-shake louder in one's head, **Yes, that is how, sister. I suppose it is merely unexpected that you should 'joke' so identically to our Glider kin.**
Turning away from the entire scene and gliding at a firmly casual pace, Llune makes her way to the fire and places the basket of noise-makers on a log. Glancing in the direction of Blaze, Llune sends to him, but openly so that Fathom can hear it if she chooses to, **Have you gotten dry, my friend? I know how you are loathe to be drenched without dire purpose.** The send is sincere, and concerned that he is upset still for being wet. Llune has noticed how Blaze's moods turn... Poor... After an unwanted drenching. The send is open enough that Fathom can hear it in the hopes she will make amends for his discomfort, which seems to have been forgotten in all the fuss.
Llune takes a seat on the log next to the near-empty basket to watch those dancing, and picks up her own little instrument, plucking at notches in a hollow bit of wood, each cut a different depth which causes the sharp echoing twang to change tone. Using this, she picks out a simple series of notes, and repeats it in time to their movements, making a bit of a tune to go with the jangling of the noise makers. "Come Blaze, have you still your instrument?" she calls toward the two receeding. To Autumn's mind alone, Llune sends a gentle sense of understanding and compassion, and most of all whole-hearted forgiveness. Through this the locksent words, **If you must leave for a this moment my friend, please return soon. We are not whole without you near.**
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Posted: Sat Mar 07, 2009 9:46 am
Jade eyes shifted to look at the near High One. Her send could not be ignored. Autumns mind falling silent and the spiked feeling melting away at her compassion and understanding. *I will not come back this eve near High One. I am sorry.* Turning her gaze she started her walk again away from the fun of the night.
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Posted: Sat Mar 07, 2009 6:58 pm
Tidelwave set Dancer free after a time so that she might go where she liked. He made his way over to the lovely Llune and smiled softly at her. "Do you need anything sky flower?" His smile getting just a bit broader. His hand touching her cheek lightly then pulling it away as he waited for an answer. He did so want Llune to be happy again. All the angry posturing had upset her and he wanted that trouble gone from her mind.
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Posted: Sun Mar 08, 2009 8:48 pm
Fathom heard the send of the glider miss. It stung and prickled Fathom just a bit as her mind was quick to flatly reply *Oh no. Your kind think it a joke to run off with ones family members and never to see them again. I just got them wet. They were not hurt just discomforted a bit.* Her smile never faded and she didn't look at Llune. Fathom has had enough already of the gliders. Instead she played with her noise maker and splashed at Crosscurrent lightly giggling.
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Posted: Sun Mar 08, 2009 10:01 pm
Llune began to blush at Zayn, but then Airana's send cut through her mind, and the blush at the cheek brush was forgotten. Llune manages a smile at the kind, pet-name-giving wavedancer in front of her, "I would very much enjoy a bit of water... Or better yet, a bit of tea - here, let me prepare it, I brought enough for all," she glances in the direction fo Airana, then back to Zayn again, "to enjoy this eve." The ancient glideress stands, her form long and flowing and delicate and drifts over toward her store of tea to pointedly begin preparing it for the rest of the group. And then she responds to Airana.
Llune was, actually, fairly well versed in catty sendings. And it stung her deeply, hearing what she feared most - that "cousin-snatcher," was an honest moniker. **I am sorry, but you must misunderstand - our dear friend Blaze is not a glider at all - and it is he who you've most offended my dear...** Llune glances in the direction of the wavedancer, but as she's not looking in Llune's direction, so Llune turns back toward her task, her send remaining open but still very quiet and honest. **Surely you must know that not everyone is as fond of waves as you, in fact, many downright loathe them. I meant only to notice that 'joking' in such an inconsiderate fashion brings back less joyful memories of the cruel 'jokes' played on me by my kin... Please accept my apologies, for I was unaware how true a term "cousin-snatcher" was.**
**Despite this, however, I must point out that if you were acting out of distaste for my blood-kin, you have poorly aimed - those you have truly offended this night are not my kin by blood, only by love. Exacting your revenge for the misdeeds of my kin by causing the discomfort of the others in our group is an unfair punishment to those far more innocent than I could hope to ever be... Upon this eve of celebration none had caused you grief, but you have succeeded in grieving us all. Even now you insist upon drowning any hope of salvaged joy in the evening.** Llune's send is strangely powerful, the strength of her age - her thousands of years of getting kicked around - showing through, and though it remains quiet, it is firm. And she's got a point. Aside from splashing Savith a little, Airana's actions really served just to make Blaze miserable and salty, Autumn ashamed, and the whole party a little shaky overall.
**That you would prefer to bring hatred to an evening of celebration, and are incapable of sharing a sincere apology - even to one who has shared no blood with my kind - causes me to believe that any extension of peace by myself or any of my non-glider kin will be met - at least by you, young wavedancer - with false smiles and unkind words.** And really, if she's going to be this ugly for no reason, then she's taking after someone that, let's be honest, isn't all that great a someone to be taking after...
But Llune manages to leave this sincere tidbit out of her send. **It is not enough that we are so few and so scattered, but your insistance upon harboring - and acting upon - your saved hatred destroys any small hope I foolishly had harbored for friendship.** Tears have brimmed in Llune's eyes, but she finished making the tea.
"Excuse me," she says, almost a whisper, and to no one in particular, then moves toward the treeline to wipe the redness out of her eyes in private.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 3:34 am
Fathom frowned deeply and her tail slapped the water sharply at Llunes send. Now she turned to face the sad crying glider. The send raced to her mind alone this time. Fathom has had more then enough. *And your dear friend Blaze should not have sent his little heated dart at my mind. He was not wet by accident it was the glider who was doused because he was in the way. I am not a mind reader I do not know who is fearful of the water and who is not. I had no intentions of this getting so out of hand but others seem unable to let it go. If I am so spoiling your little party then I will take my leave of it.* And with that she slipped herself back into the deeper waters and was gone from site.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 11:47 am
Llune does not respond to the wavedancer's tart send immediately - why respond to one that feels no remorse for her pointedly malicious actions? Instead, Llune remains just past the edge of the forest quietly crying alone, hidden from view, trying collecting herself before she sends to the wavedancer, but openly enough for anyone to hear.
Quietly, sadly, and almost eerily calmly, Llune responds. **You admit, privately to me, that your 'joke' was malicious in intent. It was not by accident, nor was it a joke. Yet you feign apology when asked by your chief and your victims for a reason. Truly, I know far too little of your kind, for I was unaware such dishonesty was prized. But I will thank you to stop faulting me for the doings of my kin from this moment forth, for you are acting no better than any of the worst of them.** If there is a sound that signifies a mind closing, play it now - Llune doesn't want anyone in there, and any further sends must be incredibly strong to barrel through the incredible wall she has erected around her mind. Yes, Llune is most definitely tired of bending over backwards to show this wavedancer that she doesn't take after the "cousin snatchers." But the actions of this evening make it quite clear that Fathom wishes only to accept Llune's goodwill and spit it back in her face. Honestly, Llune has no desire to associate with someone that will hate her regardless of what she does.
There is a shuffling in the woods as Llune moves more deeply into them, in the hopes that no one will follow her. Her festive mood is completely destroyed, and there seems to be absolutely no hope that the mother-to-be will smile again this night. It's likely she is taking an untrodden path back to her cave to hide away there, away from all the anger and hatred that for some reason has accompanied an evening of celebration.
To the rest of the party-goers she calls out, "I am not feeling well enough to continue, please accept my apologies, goodnight," and to Zayn alone, genuine, and with the feeling of "this is the last time I'll ever talk to you," she sends simply **I am sorry.** Her voice is a bit scruffy, and though shaky from crying is loud enough for at least those closest the forest's edge to hear.
The smell of the tea wafts through the smell of the fire and the food and the surf. It's most definitely flavored with dreamberries, and is most definitely the last of Llune's beloved dried-dreamberry stash. Obviously, the tea will not afford it's drinkers the full effect of true dreamberries... Only the reminiscence of their intoxicating effects. And Llune will partake in none of it, now.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 4:45 pm
Blaze remained silent. If Joy was so inclined to leave, he knew better than to try to stop her. The night she left the fire for was dark and cool, and he preferred to stay with the rest, and perhaps enjoy himself. He stood for a long while in the outermost reaches of the light-sphere, silent. Then, with practiced finality, he severed the thread of the matter in his mind and paced back to the gathering.
Only to find a far more distressing charge in Llune's sudden departure. He'd only overheard a few snippets of send; an odd mix of lighthearted dancing and underlying venom. But whatever it had been was unimportant now; the life-holder, the mother of the chief, was traipsing off, alone, into the obscuring forest. Remembering the tusks of the pig and the horns of the deer, he darted after her. **Llune... Are you that distraught as to rush into the arms of death?** The send was held gingerly in connection, balancing the full force of his mind with uncharacteristic softness, something akin to soft gust of wind that comes before a firestorm. He sought to at least delay her long enough to catch up and find her mind in the starlight; his eyes and sense of heat dulled by the bonfire.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 6:41 pm
Savith's faze turned toward his mother at her send, mind clearly picking out the barely open feel of it. The tone narrowed his eyes and brought a guiltly sort of frown to his face, which he schooled into a cold and expressionless mask to look at Crosscurrent. He left his chin slightly.
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ChosenSavith Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 6:12 am
Okay, so some of the discomfort to the Glider was amusing (even if the tension from the others pushed that aside), and the light splash from Fathom as he stood so close to Savith made him smile, he didn't like seeing the 'stillness' the Glider was doing now.
At least the small head movement made him more then a Mad Chief statue...
"Your face is going to freeze if you keep that up," he pointed out as he side-stepped in the water a little. High Ones knew his mother scolded him with that when he was sulking as a youngling often enough.
Part of him wanting so badly to go after Fathom, but knowing she needed some time alone. Something he hadn't given her in his worry for her and need to survive. Instead he stayed here. It was time to do a little patching of his own if the Glider-chief was too 'young' to figure it out himself.
"Gather round and hear the tales," Crosscurrent said a little louder for the rest of those near to hear. Turning his green eyes to them as he shifted his tail into legs and made his way more fully onto the land. Seeking most of all Tidalwave and Dancer's eyes in invitation even as he looked at all here. Crosscurrent was no Memory-Keeper, but the waves, he had enjoyed the stories well enough to bring a few out now.
If the other tribes thought the Wavedancers a touch exotic all the better to entice them over. Besides, he might be able to convince Tidalwave to share some from this own tribe...
So began the first of the stories. And it was not polished, or serious, as he spoke with gestures wide. Moving about those who choose to listen. Using them as 'props' when the scenes involved hiding or flirting; telling them with facial expressions that might have been many masks the many feelings of those he spoke of. And when ones like Dancer asked a question (for he sometimes forgot that they didn't know some things) it became part of the tale.
He told of the hilarious courtship between two crafters, who often found such mischief that it still entertained his tribe generations later.
He told of time Wintershore had earned his name after being stranded on the other side of an iced-over lake because he lost track of time. Tricking a hand of human fisherman to return.
Somehow Crosscurrent would sample the foods and drinks as he paused in the tales. During those times he was content to remain sitting he often leaned in to encourage others to join in. Even if they sat some distance away. And he had a great time even when he stumbled over the words a little. When the party finally cooled down he would return to the new home below he shared with his tribemates and sleep well.
[ooc: would this be a good way to wrap this up?]
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Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 6:52 pm
OOC: Sure, sounds like a good place if everyone else is game. smile
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ChosenSavith Vice Captain
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