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 September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....

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Tymber

Tymber

Posts : 905
Join date : 2015-05-06
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PostSubject: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyWed Sep 02, 2020 9:44 pm

Elements -
Hope (however you want to use it)
Cat
Creation (whether by art, work, Recognition, etc)
suggestion/to suggest something
Shapechange


Stories, poetry, artwork, whatever your talent to share - must be ElfQuest themed - and may contain canon ElfQuest characters (Cutter, Leetah, Skywise, etc) or custom characters of your own (as long as it's in the "ElfQuest" universe).

Your submissions should include at least one of these things (for art), and at least 3 of the 5 for stories (but let's see you use all five!)

Stories can be as long as you want them to be.

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_tym10
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Tymber

Tymber

Posts : 905
Join date : 2015-05-06
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptySat Sep 05, 2020 7:22 am

Hope (however you want to use it)
Cat
Creation (whether by art, work, Recognition, etc)
suggestion/to suggest something
Shapechange


For Windfetcher, the newly appointed Chieftess of the Stonehowl Holt, she frequently found peace and tranquility near the cliff’s edge that over looked the roaring tides far below. The repetitive sound of the waves crashing against the stone, in their rhythmic nature, helped her pace her own breath with the tide. Her senses took in the sounds, the sights, and the smells of the ocean.

“Peaceful up here, isn’t it,” a male voice asked.

Windfetcher let out a start and turned to see Buren, the human and mate of Stream, standing there, holding several logs of wood over his shoulder. “You never got to see the Pridewalker mounts – huge cats – but they were deadly quiet – you’re like them,” she pointed to him, and his muscular build. “I didn’t even hear you come up here.”

“It’s easy to get lost in the waves,” he smiled. “It’s the only thing I do miss, when I traveled with my father’ traveling the seas – staring out all around you and seeing only ocean. Some people might find fear in that – for me, it was tranquility and peace.” Windfetcher admired Buren’s build; he was muscular, unlike elves. The vest he wore exposed his chest, where Windfetcher could see the scar in the center of his chest, made thanks to Shadow plunging his dagger into Buren’s chest so long ago. (It’s true – look all the way back here: https://fathertreeholt.forumotion.com/t300p30-grab-bag-august-2015 )

“Do you ever wish you could go back?” Windfetcher asked. Though the question had been for Buren, in Windfetcher’s mind, her memories crashed into her soul, like the tides against the cliff sides, to days and nights of an easier life.

“No,” Buren replied, much to Windfetcher’s surprise. “The day Shadow pierced my heart with his blade, and Stream healed me… she did not just heal the wound. She mended my heart, more than just physically – she changed me inside. Shaped myself into something new; I was finally, in that moment, reborn and free of my father’s vile clutches.” He paused, “And our love has given birth to a creation that neither of us thought possible – our son, Stonecutter.”

As he turned to leave, he looked over his shoulder and smiled, “I do hope you find the peace in you that you seek, Windfetcher. If you’re worried that you’re not a good Chieftess, may I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,” she turned to face him, smiling.

“Stop worrying,” Buren chuckled. “You’re a great Chieftess.”

The waves pounded.

The smell of the sea filled her nose.

The brisk spray of the ocean touched her face.

Windfetcher smiled.

Elsewhere…

Balgar, father of Buren, slid to the floor, his lifeless corpse lying next to Sherala, the Priestess of Kuraul.

A towering human, black hair, black eyes, grinned. “The age of Kuraul is done. Welcome to the age of steel.” (Learn more about Sherala, Kuraul and Balgar way back here: https://fathertreeholt.forumotion.com/t502-october-2015-grab-bag)


• Vineweaver (Male Soul Name: Reyk) – Auburn Hair, Blue Eyes (Tree shaper, Soul Mate of Stillbreeze, Plant Shaper)
• Stillbreeze (Female Soul Name: Hewl) – Brown Hair, Brown Eyes (Soul Mate of Vineweaver, Tanner)
• Echo (Male Soul Name: Ayav) – Brown Hair, Green Eyes (Cub of Stillbreeze & Vineweaver, Magic)- About twenty three years old.
• Windfetcher (Female Soul Name: Burm) – Auburn Hair, Brown Eyes (Cub of Stillbreeze & Vineweaver) – About twenty three years old, Chieftess
• Snowspring (Female, Soul Name: Tylo – Black Hair, Green Eyes) – Fourteen years old. Daughter of Shadow and Foxhair.
• Stream (Female Soul Name: Vree) – Red Hair, Green Eyes (Healer)
• Buren (Human, Brown hair, hazel eyes) – About 25 years old in human years
• Stonecutter (half elf/half human, son of Stream and Buren – brown hair, green eyes) – About seven years old

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_tym10
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Yeee

Yeee

Virgo Tiger
Posts : 992
Join date : 2019-08-10
Age : 46
Location : germany

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptySat Sep 05, 2020 2:57 pm

The sea is part of your story! Like

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_hal10
Thanx to Embala for this nice Halloween banner!

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Tymber

Tymber

Posts : 905
Join date : 2015-05-06
Location : Location, Location!

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyMon Sep 07, 2020 8:32 am

Elements -
Hope (however you want to use it)
Cat
Creation (whether by art, work, Recognition, etc)
suggestion/to suggest something
Shapechange



Vaya leapt at Winnowill like a cat springing on an unsuspecting mouse. Winnowill, whose limbs were shaking from the effort of standing, tumbled to the ground beneath Vaya's attack.

Winnowill cursed her weakness - remembering when she'd taken the step from the stairs to prevent Leetah from healing her (See: http://elfquest.com/read/index.php?s=OQ/OQ14&p=31) - and for some reason, in doing so, had prevented her own powers from healing herself. Winnowill reached out for Two-Edge, her son, her creation; but he sat and watched.

"I saw the Palace!" Vaya yelled. "I saw the others! All my brothers and sisters, and other Go-Backs who died at the hands of the trolls! I finally knew peace! I knew Hope! And you took me away from it, black snake!" Vaya howled as she grabbed Winnowill's robes and lifted her chest and slammed her again and again against the cold, bloody concrete.

Two-Edge finally stepped between them, using his great hammer to pull Vaya off of Winnowill. "She healed you, because I had suggested it," Two-Edge explained.

"Demanded it," Winnowill hissed, wiping the blood from her lip as she pulled herself up, sitting against the wall. "You were dead. I told him as much. But he demanded I pull you back."

"Why?" Vaya turned on Two-Edge. "Why would you do something like that?"

"You're like me," Two-Edge said. "Though pure in blood, I've seen you spit at the troll king and spit at your chieftess. You are at war with who you are inside. Desperate to find yourself. Prove yourself."

"I did!" she screamed, pointing behind her. "I stood my ground. I made sure the others got away. I spat on the face of that murdering troll. I was at peace with myself in that moment. I was free!"

Two-Edge admired her, even as she continued to yell at him, and wondered, if his mother could still shape flesh, the way she'd shaped Tyldak's... could she shape him to be a beautiful elf... one that Vaya might find appealing?

As he locked eyes with her - his mind suddenly saw a line of wolves... howling in her eyes.

Vaya suddenly stopped yelling and stared at Two-Edge as if she'd been impaled.


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Tymber

Tymber

Posts : 905
Join date : 2015-05-06
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyMon Sep 07, 2020 8:34 am

To go with the Vaya story...
September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Vaya_w10

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_tym10
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Arill3.0

Arill3.0

Pisces Monkey
Posts : 84
Join date : 2020-07-08
Age : 28
Location : Frozen North

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyMon Sep 07, 2020 11:02 pm

HELL YES. CALLED IT.

Honestly, it's like you're in my brain, because I've been delving into the pairing of Vaya/Two Edge of late. This pleases me endlessly.
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Arill3.0

Arill3.0

Pisces Monkey
Posts : 84
Join date : 2020-07-08
Age : 28
Location : Frozen North

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyTue Sep 08, 2020 1:53 am

Content warnings: Blood, animal attacks, extremely ethically and morally dubious behavior, and Voll yoinking the offspring of an apex predator because he thought they'd make a cute pet.

Hope (however you want to use it)
Cat
Creation (whether by art, work, Recognition, etc)
suggestion/to suggest something
Shapechange


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Voll heard Winnowill well before he saw her, which did not bode well for whoever was under her care at the moment.

“Meddlesome idiots, can you not string two thoughts together before acting?”

Voll approached the cave where his lovemate tended the wounded and leaned his hunting spear near the entrance, moving carefully to avoid jostling the creel he carried at his side. He peered into the cave and saw that young Kureel and Tyldak were flinching under Winnowill’s stare, the pair of them bloodied and shaken.

“We only wanted to check on the fledglings--” Kureel began, and Winnowill cut him off with a sharp gesture of the hand. She, too, was covered in blood, a long dark band of it sweeping down over her face and neck and chest, soaking her apron through. Voll marveled at the strength of her stomach, to stand there with the smell of it thick around her, but he supposed she had stopped noticing it sometime in childhood.

“The hawks look after the fledglings, and they know more about the business than two untried striplings. You both know better than to go up during the hatching season; you are lucky Stormrider did not rip you apart.”

Tyldak looked like he wanted to offer a rebuttal  but Winnowill turned her full attention on him, and he immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Yes, healer.”

“We will not go up again, sister, I swear it, just please do not tell the Windspear.” Kureel begged, and Voll felt a little sympathy for the lad. He was as hawk-hearted as Voll himself, more comfortable among the great birds than with the tribe, and he would be a magnificent hunter one day. Provided, of course, that he did not feed himself to the hawks first.

“It is a little late for that, I am afraid.” Voll said, and stepped inside the cave. Tyldak sighed and closed his eyes in resignation, while Kureel gave Voll a desperate, pleading look.

“Voll! Please, we only--.”

“Enough, young one. Winnowill is absolutely right; you could have both been killed today, and I know I taught you better than to climb up among nesting mothers.” Voll told them, keeping his voice low and quiet. He was not Lord Haken, to heap cruelties on young fools who meant no harm. Cruelty sowed nothing but fear, and really Kureel and Tyldak had not done anything he and Winnowill had not done a thousand times before.

“You will both be landbound until the new moon, and will help at the cookfires when the next hunt is called. If you accept this punishment, then we will discuss letting you off the ground again. Am I understood?”

Kureel looked devastated, but Tyldak only nodded; he had only recently been allowed back in the air, unfortunately, and Voll rather doubted that this new punishment would be the one to teach him caution.

“Very good. Now thank the healer and report to Finnel for your new tasks. She told me that they need extra hands in the tanning pools.” Voll said, and he would be dishonest if he said that he did not delight in their looks of disgust, just a little.

“I should have let Stormrider finish what she started.” Tyldak said softly, but with great feeling. He rose and towed a stricken Kureel after him, bowing to Winnowill and offering their gratitude for her skill. She dismissed them with a wave of her hand and glared after them as they left, worried beneath her irritation.

“Lucky little idiots,” she sighed, peeling a tendril of hair from her filthy cheek.

“You’ve a little…”

Voll gestured vaguely at his own face, indicating most of it, and Winnowill scowled under the spray of blood. He really should not find her so tempting like this, growling and disheveled and covered from hip to hairline in someone else’s gore, but he had given her his heart long ago, and they were as they were. Her frown deepened when she finally noticed his rather ragged appearance, and Voll braced himself.

“And you, what have you done to yourself now?” Winnowill demanded, stepping close and taking his chin in hand, eying him critically as she healed a deep scratch along his cheekbone.

“You wound me, lovemate.” Voll said mournfully, untying the creel and lifting out his tiny captive.

“It seems something else got there first. What is this?” she asked, and Voll gently put the wildcat kit into her cupped palms. The little creature mewled at them, frightened but not yet panicking, staring around with its great blue eyes. Winnowill’s face went soft, and she stroked the striped fur experimentally.

“Another stray, Voll? And this one will be after your songbirds before too long.”

She was already cuddling the kit to her unbloodied cheek, smiling at its squeaking protest and rubbing the tiny ears. The mauling he’d taken from the kit’s mother was worth seeing her smile, and he would gladly go back for the entire litter if Winnowill wanted them.

“I thought perhaps the little fellow might be helpful in keeping mice from your storeroom.” he told her, idly tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. One thing less for her to worry over, at least, and the kit was adorable into the bargain.

“Assuming it lives.” Winnowill said bluntly, as though she had not helped him nurse eights upon eights of his animal friends back to good health. Voll hummed, absently flaking blood from her cheek.

“We shall see.”

“We shall.”

Winnowill settled the kit on the bench she used for examinations and found it a morsel of meat leftover from the food he had brought her earlier. She had a quick wash, pouring water from a jug and ruthlessly scrubbing her arms and hands and face, and stars help him she looked like a ringtail grooming at the edge of the river. His life would become very difficult indeed if he voiced the comparison, however, and so Voll smiled to himself in silence.

Clean again, Winnowill turned back to Voll and mended the rest of his wounds, her hands moving lightly over his face and arms. She lectured him as she worked, without any real heat, and Voll looked her over for any signs of exhaustion. Aside from being bled upon and having her patience tested she did not seem to be as drawn and spent as she had in recent weeks, which he found encouraging. He had decided long ago that this was his purpose, above even his duty to the tribe and his Lord; to care for her when she would not care for herself, to be her shield and shelter from the uncaring world.

“There. Pretty again.” Winnowill declared, stepping back and surveying her handiwork with some pleasure. She had kept his hands for last, and she held them now, her fingers warm and capable around his. Voll could not resist touching her then, letting his thumb trace the bow of her smile.

“I thought you loved me for myself, not my prettiness.”

“I told you that to spare your feelings, I am afraid.” she said, with a pitying look. Voll staggered and put a hand over his heart as though mortally stricken, and Winnowill bit her lip to keep from laughing. Better and better, Voll thought, and came over to touch his forehead to hers, doubtless bloodying her anew.

~*I am glad you are well.*~

She nuzzled against him, leaning the whole of her weight against him and twining her arms around his waist as she laid her head against his shoulder.

“I have little choice but to be well, with all your fussing.” she said wearily.

~*Thank you, Voll.*~

He had been born for this, he thought, as surely as he had been born to fly. He rested his chin on the crown of Winnowill’s head and they stayed that way for a moment, until Winnowill plucked at a bloodied scrap from his sleeve and made a disapproving sound.

“You are filthy. Let me get a rag.” she said, and slipped from his arms to prepare another bowl of water.

“You must find a name for our little hunter.” Voll told her, purely for the fun of watching her roll her eyes skyward. She refused to name any of the animals he brought home, though he would swear on his own life he had caught her in conversation with the flock of songbirds not even a month ago.

“Naming it implies that I will be keeping the feral little thing.” She said, dabbing the blood from his cheek and brow, her face deadly serious.

“It would be a pity if I had to undo your work because I had to return the kit to its mother. Consider my looks, if nothing else.” Voll teased, catching her around the waist and holding her as she worked. Winnowill finished wiping the blood from his face and sighed as she turned to toss away the rag. To any other observer she would look resigned, perhaps even a little irked, but Voll saw the way her mouth twitched and her eyes shone.

“Your little beast will be properly tamed by the time the child is born, so I suppose it can stay.” she said lightly, and Voll nodded in agreement until her words caught up with him. The child. The words lanced through him, fixing him through the heart, and Voll crossed the small room to turn Winnowill from her work and gather her in his arms. She turned her face up to his and oh, she was blooming, her eyes like two stars, her smile as boundless as the horizon. He was almost accustomed to her beauty after all their years together, but in this moment she undid him. Voll swallowed, trying to find his words, and at last asked,

“Child? It...it worked, then?”

She nodded, and all the air went from Voll’s lungs as though she had struck him. He caught her up and held her fast, trying to make a shield of himself to surround her and the little life they had made together. He flew, though his feet never left the ground, the whole of him filled from crown to heel with sunlight. Winnowill tucked her face into the crook of his neck and his heart was a poor spasming thing in the cage of his ribs, stunned with love and joy.

“You brilliant creature,” he whispered to her, his voice raw. “You wonder.”

His beautiful, stormy-eyed love, who had saved his life a thousand times and had now made a child for them, a little one born from their love and tenacity. There was nothing beyond her now, nothing at all, and he was honored to stand beside her. Winnowill brushed her lips against the shell of his ear and whispered to him, feather-soft, and stars she would kill him where he stood, he was sure of it.

“You are pleased, I take it?”

“Oh, Winnowill!”

Voll swung her up into his arms and danced her around the room, rejoicing in her startled laughter and happy smile. Both were gifts that Voll hoarded jealously, and as he set her down he was determined to memorize the look of her in this moment, from her disheveled hair to her triumphant grin. When he told their child the tale of their birth, he wanted them to see this woman who was their mother, loving and strong and stubborn enough to will life into being.

Voll cradled Winnowill’s face between his shaking hands and touched his forehead to hers, and he could not tell which of them wept .

~*Thank you, my love!*~

She laughed again, little and quiet, and laid her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. Her smile was softer, warm as the hearth on a winter evening.

~*I could not have done it without you, gentle one. Give yourself a little credit.*~

Voll only laughed.

They only had a little time alone with their news. The tribe was tightly knit, and they had been careless in their happiness. Within a hand of days the whole of the tribe knew that Winnowill was with child, and soon their private chambers became a hub of well-wishing and questioning. Everyone, it seemed, had to know how they had done it, if it could be done again, when the child would come, and a thousand other things besides. Mother, at least, merely accepted the fact of her grandchild with quiet joy and helped Voll drive off the more insistent of the visitors, allowing Winnowill time to rest. It all seemed very amusing to Voll, though of course everything seemed very amusing now that he was to be a father. He and Winnowill were wrapped in their happiness as though it were wrapstuff, safe and warm and untouchable.

This did not last, of course. Lord Haken, too, had heard of the pregnancy, and one day Winnowill paused as she was helping him prepare their midday meal and suddenly sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“Father summons me, beloved. It is very urgent, apparently.” she said, already looking tired. Voll frowned and caught her hand in his as she turned to go, tugging her into an embrace. She leaned against him, head tucked beneath his chin, and she was as tense as a bowstring in his arms.

“I will go with you.” Voll murmured, but she shook her head.

“That would be unwise. He is...it is better if you remain.”

Voll was about to protest but his lovemate leaned back and laid a finger against his lips, smiling faintly up at him. He frowned under her touch, refusing to be distracted.

“Please, Voll. It is better this way. I will be back as soon as I can.”

“We both ought to be there--”

“What, as though we are answering for wrongdoing? I think not.” Winnowill sniffed, drawing herself up, and Voll loved her terribly in that moment.

~*Caution, Winnowill.*~

~*Always, Voll.*~ She smiled for him again and went to answer Lord Haken’s summons, leaving Voll standing foolishly at their hearth with dread curdling in his stomach. For something to do, he set about tidying their quarters and brewing tea for them to share upon her return, trying very carefully to not think overlong on what sort of meeting Winnowill was having with Lord Haken.

Winnowill returned well after the sun had set and the tea had gone cold, exhausted and clearly unsettled. Voll steered her to the bed, helped her strip away her dress and unwind her hair. When he found the bruises encircling her wrist he became as stone, cold and still, and Lord or no, grandfather of his child or no, Voll wanted nothing more than to find Haken and make him suffer for every mark. Winnowill gave him a shadow of her usual smile and touched his cheek.

“Another tantrum, nothing more. I have gotten quite adept at managing him.”

“You should not have to manage him in the first place.” Voll ground out, and swallowed back the anger. Winnowill lifted one shoulder, playing at carelessness, and looked to their hearth.
“It is as it is, and in the meantime I am hungry. What are you feeding me?”

Voll did not appreciate being managed in his turn, but pursuing the matter would do nothing but tire them all. He brought her bread and venison and the last of the heartberries, and fresh mint tea. Winnowill wrapped herself in his cloak and ate with a methodical intensity that did not invite interruption; when she bothered to eat, she at least did so with zeal.  Voll picked at his own meal, his eyes straying to her bruised wrist until she noticed and healed it without breaking stride.

~*It was nothing, beloved.*~

~*He hurt you.*~

Hurt her, the star of Voll’s life, the one who had saved the life of everyone in the tribe. He did not trust himself to say more, but he was certain she could feel his outrage even so. Her smile turned soft, and she reached across the table to take his hand.

~*My gallant one.*~

Voll looked away and pressed his lips together, furious with Haken and himself, for not going with her. He could feel Winnowill’s steady gaze on him, and heard her rise from her seat. He looked up as she came to him, holding his cloak shut around her with one hand and reaching for him with the other. Winnowill smiled down at him, suddenly the shy girl who had laid her heart in his hands all those years ago.

“I am cold, Voll. Will you warm me?”

He answered her smile with one of his own; he could not do otherwise, not with her. Voll stood and swept Winnowill up into his arms, and she laughed lightly as she twined her arms around his neck. He brought her to their bed and climbed in with her, and set about making her very warm indeed.

Much later, when they lay catching their breath, Voll thought to ask her what Lord Haken had summoned her for. Winnowill went still beneath him, and Voll lifted his head from the hollow of her shoulder to look at her.

“What is it? What did he do, Winnowill?”

She sighed and Voll shifted off of her, onto his side to better see her in the dim candlelight. Winnowill turned and laid her head beside his on the furs, close enough that he could feel her breath stir his hair.

~*He was quite pleased, once he got past being angry.*~

~*Angry? Not because of our baby, surely?*~ Voll demanded. Not even Haken could be displeased at the idea of becoming a grandfather, of adding another member to their tribe. Had he hurt her over this, because they were expecting a child? The idea filled Voll with dread, a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.He ought to get her out, get her away. He would gather the necessary supplies and ready Stormrider, take Winnowill far off into the forest until the child was born safely. Haken would not touch them, either of them, and--Voll was drawn from this frantic line of thought when Winnowill sank her hand into his hair and tugged gently.

~*He is not so angry about the baby as he is angry that we did not ask his permission before we began our experiment. As though I need his leave to bear or not.*~

That old hatred was there in her sending, winding through her thoughts like a snake in the bracken. Voll pulled her flush against him, his mouth pressed against her temple, and sent to her the feeling of being safe in Stormrider’s nest, the great hawk’s feathers soft and warm, her talons and beak ready to defend what was hers. Winnowill nestled against his shoulder and began to twist a lock of his hair together with hers, and he was distracted for a moment, wondering which color their child would inherit.

~*What else?*~ he prompted her, and she sighed again.

~*He was taken with the idea that we might not need to wait on Recognition any longer. He asked me all sorts of questions about the process, the degree of control I had. He’s had an idea, you see.*~

Voll’s blood ran cold in his veins, his heart sinking. He worked his other arm under Winnowill and held her.

~*What is it this time?*~

Not another war, not now, when he and she had so much to protect. Again, that urge to take Winnowill and retreat into the deepest heart of the forest came, but Voll put it aside.

~*He intends to select the strongest members of the tribe and have me quicken them. Preference to be given to the magic users and warriors, or anyone else with an occupation he deems useful enough.*~

Voll drew a long slow breath and released it, fighting to keep from retching.The idea of breeding their people like shelks sickened Voll to his very core, and he tucked Winnowill closer still, imagining himself as a barrier between her and whatever her father would do. She did not seem to notice; she continued to twist his hair together with hers and frown up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

~*As repellent as his method is, I can understand his purpose. It would benefit our tribe to have more powerful magic users.*~ she admitted at last, and Voll had to fight to hide his disgust.

~*To choose a mate for another is vile enough, but now he intends to decide who will and won’t have children based on their use to him. How are you not furious?*~

~*I am, gentleheart, truly I am. But it cannot be denied that it is a practical means of achieving his ends.*~

~*I see. And what happens if Lord Haken decides tomorrow that I am not worthy to sire your children? Would you accept another in my place if it meant making a stronger mage for the tribe?*~

It was a dishonorable blow, but it struck true; Winnowill bolted up in bed and stared down at him in horror, her mind a wordless wave of dread. She snatched up his hands and held them to her heart, her eyes bright with that storm-light he so loved.

~*Never. You are mine as I am yours, and I will have no other.*~

Voll knew this, of course, but her words moved him still, and he pulled her down into his arms where she belonged, her head over his heart and his hands carding through her beautiful hair.

~*Nor will I. There are others besides us who would not have this choice made for them, my heart, and we must think of them if Haken will not.*~

He felt her nod, and she shifted so that she lay belly to belly with him, her chin on her folded arms and her eyes on his.

~*Yes, yes, you are right I suppose. I shall tell him something. Perhaps Gibra can help me turn him from it. He still listens to her.*~

Not nearly often enough, Voll thought. His mother’s influence on their Lord seemed to wane with every passing winter, as Lord Haken drew deeper and deeper within himself. Voll wondered if there would be anyone left to calm Haken by the time the baby came.Something would have to be done, sooner rather than later.

Voll did not realize he had sent to Winnowill until she made a soft sound and nodded, infinitely tired and a little sad.

~*Yes. I agree.*~


_______________________________________
So this is waaay before the Lefthand Way or even Canon. I've been playing around a lot with the backstory of the Gliders, and I think I drew a lot of influence from Leanan's Haken's Clan fics (look them up they're amazing). The idea here is that Haken is the Lord of the proto-Gliders, with Winnowill as his eldest child/heir (not that Haken would allow anyone to think of ruling after him), and Voll as essentially the captain of the early Chosen. I find the idea of Voll being the dashing young upstart that Haken disapproves of very amusing, especially since in my head Winnowill has less than no respect for Haken as an authority figure in her life so his disapproval is meaningless to her.

Younger me had a lot of fics where V/W force Recognition, so I thought I'd give that a more nuanced exploration here. I personally feel like young Winnowill and Voll were so stubborn and in love that they had to have given it a shot at least once, if only to see if it could be done. There will be a second part to this, or maybe I'll turn it into a short fic of it's own because I don't have enough on my hands as it is.
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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Empty
PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyThu Sep 10, 2020 9:42 pm

Heh heh, "Lord" Haken is an  evil shadow in this story. Even if he only appears indirectly, his nasty aura hangs over everything. In any case, he is well done and is presented credibly. Like
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyThu Sep 17, 2020 7:31 pm

@Arill3.0 wrote:

“Meddlesome idiots, can you not string two thoughts together before acting?”

Voll approached the cave where his lovemate tended the wounded and leaned his hunting spear near the entrance, moving carefully to avoid jostling the creel he carried at his side. He peered into the cave and saw that young Kureel and Tyldak were flinching under Winnowill’s stare, the pair of them bloodied and shaken.

“We only wanted to check on the fledglings--” Kureel began, and Winnowill cut him off with a sharp gesture of the hand. She, too, was covered in blood, a long dark band of it sweeping down over her face and neck and chest, soaking her apron through. Voll marveled at the strength of her stomach, to stand there with the smell of it thick around her, but he supposed she had stopped noticing it sometime in childhood.

“The hawks look after the fledglings, and they know more about the business than two untried striplings. You both know better than to go up during the hatching season; you are lucky Stormrider did not rip you apart.”

Tyldak looked like he wanted to offer a rebuttal  but Winnowill turned her full attention on him, and he immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Yes, healer.”

“We will not go up again, sister, I swear it, just please do not tell the Windspear.” Kureel begged, and Voll felt a little sympathy for the lad. He was as hawk-hearted as Voll himself, more comfortable among the great birds than with the tribe, and he would be a magnificent hunter one day. Provided, of course, that he did not feed himself to the hawks first.

“It is a little late for that, I am afraid.” Voll said, and stepped inside the cave. Tyldak sighed and closed his eyes in resignation, while Kureel gave Voll a desperate, pleading look.

“Voll! Please, we only--.”

“Enough, young one. Winnowill is absolutely right; you could have both been killed today, and I know I taught you better than to climb up among nesting mothers.” Voll told them, keeping his voice low and quiet. He was not Lord Haken, to heap cruelties on young fools who meant no harm. Cruelty sowed nothing but fear, and really Kureel and Tyldak had not done anything he and Winnowill had not done a thousand times before.

“You will both be landbound until the new moon, and will help at the cookfires when the next hunt is called. If you accept this punishment, then we will discuss letting you off the ground again. Am I understood?”

Kureel looked devastated, but Tyldak only nodded; he had only recently been allowed back in the air, unfortunately, and Voll rather doubted that this new punishment would be the one to teach him caution.

This entire portion was absolutely incredible and WONDERFUL in detail.
I especially loved this imagery:
She, too, was covered in blood, a long dark band of it sweeping down over her face and neck and chest, soaking her apron through. Voll marveled at the strength of her stomach, to stand there with the smell of it thick around her, but he supposed she had stopped noticing it sometime in childhood.

@Arill3.0 wrote:

“Your little beast will be properly tamed by the time the child is born, so I suppose it can stay.” she said lightly, and Voll nodded in agreement until her words caught up with him. The child. The words lanced through him, fixing him through the heart, and Voll crossed the small room to turn Winnowill from her work and gather her in his arms. She turned her face up to his and oh, she was blooming, her eyes like two stars, her smile as boundless as the horizon. He was almost accustomed to her beauty after all their years together, but in this moment she undid him. Voll swallowed, trying to find his words, and at last asked,

“Child? It...it worked, then?”

I am curious about this... will it be a Winnowill & Voll child... or is this, because of what she did with Smelt!

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyThu Sep 17, 2020 10:21 pm

Creation
Shapechange

Newest creation of me, my Koi Boi (maybe he gains the name Khoy Laughing ) . i haven`t finished the first page of my august Grab bag entry  yet, but i couldn`t resist drawing my newest "magictail" (B-day present) on an elf first.
Now I would like to have suggestions: Should Khoy have also koi-like hairs (white , orange and black) or simply white or black hair? His skin will be very pale. His skin is so white , that it shines bright blue.
he is a Shapechanger like all Sea Raider, but he can only switch between 2 fixed shapes.
September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Mermay71

and the finished version
September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Mermay12


Last edited by Yeee on Mon Oct 05, 2020 12:58 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyThu Sep 17, 2020 11:50 pm

The detail on the tail is incredible - is that like talons/blades near the end of the tail (3 visible, looks like three on the opposing side)?

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_tym10
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyFri Sep 18, 2020 7:35 am

Yup, the tail is some work. :faceplant: What was I thinking of! But that's what happens when you draw a real mermaid tail template. I'm thinking of simplifying it a bit. is just a preliminary design. Do you think, his hair should also be a little bit koi-like (white-black and orange)?
Yes, you saw that correctly, the guy has 3 armor club plates on both sides just before the tail fin. The thin spot is very vulnerable if unprotected.
the Sea Raiders all have it. The spines are there to show large fish that they are not shark bait. They can hit big critters with it and cause nasty damage in rival fights.
Normally the Sea Raiders still have armor plates on their spine, but Khoi lacks that. His tail fin is also shaped differently than the usual triangular tail fins of the Sea Raiders. Unfortunately, because of that he cannot keep up with these fast swimmers on the high seas. That really pisses him off.

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September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Ba_hal10
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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyFri Sep 18, 2020 10:17 am

For the hair... three colors, might seem odd. Only because, hair as we know it doesn't tend to grow in three colors (other than standard color to gray lol). So I would toy with it being all white, all black, or all red and see which one strikes the fancy! Or if you have others with multiple colors - then I say go for it, though consistently coloring the same pattern for hair might be a headache. Smile

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyFri Sep 18, 2020 7:59 pm

Ok, yes that can cause headache. Then the hairs will be black, thanx for commenting.

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptySun Oct 04, 2020 9:39 pm

And another pic for the September Grabbag, yes I am slow! But better later than never.
a Cat -elf whom I crafted with the "Azaleas dolls dress-up.game" first and now the drawn design is finished. that guy is Senzangakhona (the Zulus may please forgive me that I stole a Zulu name. I find it fitting for Leopard-elf guys.
September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Senzan10

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PostSubject: Re: September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....    September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  EmptyTue Oct 06, 2020 9:34 pm

another "cat" transformed from a NaNaNa Surprise doll into an Elfquesty kid. Razz
September 2020 "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....  Leogir11
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