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 Grab bag February 2007 - reposted

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Embala

Embala

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PostSubject: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 6:35 pm

- reposted here because we lost the original on the old Scroll of Colors -

krwordgazer wrote:
Ok, this is the first grab-bag challenge ever! This one's for February 2007. Next month we'll take submissions for new grab-bag items and start over. However, people can still submit works to this grab-bag challenge after the month is over.

There are only two rules:

1. Whether the work is EQ canon, or EQ alternate universe, or EQ non-canon, it should in some way be EQ-related.

2. All of the items or elements listed must somehow appear in the work.

Here are the items/elements that stories, poetry and art must contain:

a fox
a dagger
a romantic gift
a thunderstorm
a family member
a necklace

Good luck, everyone!

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Embala

Embala

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 6:39 pm

JadeOwl wrote:
Are there any limits to length?

I mean, obviously I'm not going to write a novel or anything (not until I'm done the first one, at any rate) but can it be relatively long?

krwordgazer wrote:
As I said before, Jade Owl, there's only two rules. There are no rules about length. As long or short as you want!

@Kojiyumi wrote:
Hmm... I wonder what I could do with this...? If I can get my muse to behave...

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Embala

Embala

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 6:41 pm

JadeOwl wrote:
Sweet. Well, here's mine. It's about my Three Lakes Holt character Jasnim, and it's a flashback.


Eye of Fox, Tooth of Snake


Jas was returning to their tent with their dinner when he saw the fox.

It was curled silent and sleeping in the center of a clearing, the sunlight glinting off its red-gold pelt. Jas held perfectly still and watched. Its whiskers twitched against its paws as it breathed. In, twitch. Out, twitch.

Jas matched his breathing to the fox's. In. Out. In...

Maybe a minute later, maybe an hour, came a voice. It was too loud, too jolting to the fox-that-is, too loud, too jolting to the elf-that-is.

The fox fled.

"Jas!" Came the call again, and the boy turned angrily to the voice's source. "Mother, you scared the fox!"

Telkah came to the opening of the tent, wiping her hands on her tunic. "Now's not the time to be watching foxes, Jas. Get those rabbits in here for my soup!"

Jas obeyed, though his green eyes glowered.

Dinner was silent. The red-gold of the fox was fresh in Jas' mind, and he ate quickly, hoping to find her again before night. As he stood to leave, however, again his mother's voice intruded.

"Jas, where are you going?"

"Out." Away from you, he added silently.

"But don't you know what day it is?"

Jas rolled his eyes. His mother was like that. She put importance on times, on days. She even had a place on the tent wall where she would mark with berries what day it was. After a certain amount of nights had passed, she would change the symbol. He didn't understand why. He didn't understand her, much.

"No, mother, what day is it?" He kept his voice as civil as he could. Even if he didn't understand it, he could respect it.

"Your naming day." Her voice was soft. "This is the day, so long ago, that you were first called, first brought to the world as you."

Who was I before that? Jas wondered, though he didn't dare say it aloud. This he did understand, up to a point. A name was important. The moon would not be the moon if it were called the sun. A heron would not be a heron.....or a fox a fox.

But again his mother brought his attention inwards to her. He had a brief though of how selfish that was of her, the wondered at himself. How could she not bring his attention to her, even if she wanted to? She couldn't exactly force him to ignore her.

"I have a gift for you, on this special day." Telkah bent over one of her packs and withdrew a package wraped in hide. "These were your father's. He told me to give them to you, before he moved on."

There was no sadness in her voice. Recognition had merely been business for her, it carried no emotional attachment. That was another point of contention between them. Jas knew that whoever he Recognized, he would love with all his heart, because they would be perfect for each other.

He took the package from her and opened it. Three daggers. He weighed them in his hands. Balanced, sharp, perfect for throwing. Resentment gone, he raised his head and met his mother's knowing gaze.

Impulsively, he threw his arms around the aging elf, then ran out into the twilight to find his fox.

**********

It was dark before he did, and the stars shone down on that familiar clearing near his tent. And there she was....shining, pale-faced and pale-tressed, the red stolen away by moon's jealous light. He approached her, reverently, lovingly....not unworthy, but not welcome. Without quite knowing why, he drew one of his new daggers from his belt and placed it at her black-tipped toes.

Her golden eyes looked down on him, half-wary, half-coy, and her lips curled in a smile. In the moonlight and the shadow, he could almost see her whiskers twitching.


This was inspired by Japanese tales of Kitsune, foxes who could take the shape of maidens.


Treefox wrote:
Wonderful Jade Owl! I like the relationship between mother and son. And also, Japanese legends make for great stories. Looking forward to read more.

JadeOwl wrote:
Thanks, Treefox! I agree. I love Japanese legends.

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 6:45 pm

JadeOwl wrote:
Eye of Fox, Tooth of Snake
Part Two


Jas woke with a start. Sitting up in his bedroll, he wiped his sweat-limp hair from his forehead and kicked off his blankets. The air was heavy and hot.

Dressing silently so as not to wake his mother, he grabbed his pair of throwing knives and his wooden flute. Slipping out of the tent, he padded softly through the night-dark woods, thinking.

Why remember that now? He wondered, though he knew. It was his mind. All that happened to him was easily recalled, crystalline-clear, as a fish caught in the ice at midwinter. All he had to do was think of it -

And he had been thinking of it quite a lot recently. That magical night had been at least six symbol-changes past, yet he still felt the longing, the wonder for the beauty of the fox.

e strapped the knives into their sheathes at his wrists and stuck the flute into this belt. He stood in front of his music-tree, where he went to play his flute to the moon. The moon was invisible tonight, covered by glowering clouds, but the eyes of the fox deserved song as much.

The tree was quite high, and the flute was not sucured very well. It fell, and broke in two.

Shrugging, Jas kept climbing. He would have to simply remember, tonight, then.

Settling in the tree, he lay back and closed his eyes, smiling at the memory of whiskers.

A drop of water fell on his nose. Waking, he glared muzzily at the dark clouds above him. With a gasp, he immediately sat up, almost falling out of the tree in his haste.

Rain fell in sheets. The branches became slippery almost immediately, but Jas spared no thought for himself. Half-climbing, half-falling out of the tree, he rushed back to his tent. It seemed to take forever. He had chosen this tree for his music because it was private, isolated from all around it. He now cursed this decision.

There were creatures in these woods that waited for the rains.

Reaching the tent, he stopped in relief. There lay his mother on her bedroll, still and safe. Sighing in relief, he relaxed, barely even jumping at a roll of thunder from the skies.

Lightning flashed off the tooth of a snake, rising from the still form of Telkah Daykeeper.

Jas drew a ragged breath. Fumbling at his wrists, he drew his father's first throwing knife, aimed, and threw.

It missed.

Sobbing in fear and greif, now, he grabbed the second knife and focused on that deadly gleam.

Breathe...In, out. In, out. Twitch.

He threw.

*****

Jas fingered the thong about his neck, the two snake teeth pricking his hand. His eyes hard, he remembered. And remembered. All he had to do was think of it.

End


Treefox wrote:
That is really sad and very beautiful. I think you really embedded all the six required elements very naturally.

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 6:45 pm

The Wylde Wynd wrote:
Love your story Jade! Sweet, sad, and had a Kitune is always a good recipe. Kitsunes rule!

Here's my story. Enjoy!
************************

Hex glared at the world outside his tree-den, deeply upset at the way nature was mocking him with the sudden storm. The black haired elf pulled his furs closer to his body, sniffling miserably. It was bad enough he had a cold, now there had to be a thunder storm to make everything cold and wet and damp.

He risked a moment outside his warm cocoon of fur to grab a knot of tree sap Goldbark had placed within reach before abandoning him to a slow and painful demise. He popped the sap into his mouth, hoping that it would sooth his throat like his sister said it would, and then settled back down and continued to be miserable.

Half a day later Hex had left of being simply miserable and was now absolutely agonized. He was so bored! Why was no one, not even his sisters or friends, stopping by? Surely they weren't nervous because he had thrown his dagger at Willowwing earlier; after all, he had thrown it! Thrown as in, didn't have it anymore! Even the one form of entertainment he'd had all day, a family of foxes, had run off leaving him completely bereft of any happiness. Hex had sworn an eternal grudge on foxes at that point.

The caster fell limply against his bed of furs, deciding that death wasn't really so bad after all, especially when faced with an eternity of boredom. He closed his eyes and waited for the white light and voices of dead kin to reach him like Snapper said happened when one died. He waited. And waited. And waited some more. ”¦ 'Apparently dieing is as boring as living.' He decided. Hmm, maybe the dearly departed had poor eyesight and just couldn't find him.

"Hex? What in the world are you doing?"

"Waiting for death."

"”¦Really."

"Mhmm."

Several moments had passed by when suddenly Hex felt a finger pull his left eye open. "Ranorin."

"Mhmm?"

"Go away and let me die in peace please."

The hunter grinned down at him, "Sorry. Can't."

"Oh really. And why pray-tell can't you?"

"Well, I have to give you something."

Hex opened both eyes voluntarily at that, "Really?"

"Mhmm, close your eyes."

The caster glared up at him, "Make up your bloody mind will you." But he closed his eyes anyway.

Ran bit back a chuckle at the picture the younger male presented. With a stuffy red nose, bleary red eyes, clammy skin and hopelessly tangled hair Hex looked nothing like his usual vain self. The lanky hunter slipped a hand into his pouch, drew a shining object from it and settled it around Hex's throat. The caster opened his eyes and blinked down at the new part of his dress. His eyes widened when he realized what it was and a maidenly squeal slipped from his mouth.

Ran grinned even brighter than usual as Hex caught the shiny bauble in his hands and began to coo over it. "Thought you'd like it."

Hex beamed up at him, all annoyance gone, "It's so lovely! Where did you get it?!"

The elder of the two shrugged, "Oh, it's just a little something I found. I saw it and thought it would be the perfect thing to cheer up my little magpie." He brushed Hex's tangled black hair out of his face and leaned in close.

"AHCHOO!"

Silence reigned. Hex winced and blushed, looking up at Ran nervously as”¦ a certain fluid clung to the elder's face. Ran remained unmoving, his face stoic. For what seemed like forever the two merely sat there until,

"You're lucky I love you Hex."


JadeOwl wrote:
Hee! So cute!!

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 7:09 pm

Kathleen wrote:
See The Far Stars? How Brightly They Shine?
As Bright As The Day You Said You Were Mine.



a fox

Padki’s father told him about how the little Spiritmaiden had learned his words, eaten at their table and saved him from the Djun’s men and several fates worse than death.

He told him how she whsitled her words, like a little bird, and how her eyes shone like candles in the night. He told him how she commanded the animals of the woods. They were all her friends and they did all she asked.

One day, while his father took a load of wood to the town, Padki’s mother took him aside and sat him by the hearth.

“This is where the Spirit saved you the first time, when she split a rat about to bite you right in two.”

He rand a hand over the cradle, ready for a new baby if it ever came, saw the flow and gleam of the wood grow stronger under his hands. He squinted at it, and could see the reflection of the Spirit’s eyes.

His mother took him outside and pointed to an old stump that refused to move from it’s place in the yard.

“Here is where the Spirit saved you the second time, when she caught meat for us to eat when your father was captured.”

She sat on the stump and wrapped her arms around him.

“Padki, if you are ever in danger, you must ask her for guidance. I think she will not fail you, as she has never failed us. She is wise, the little spirit. She is a little fox that runs on two legs and she will never desert you.”

Padki lived for a hundred years. And the little spirit never did desert him, though she never returned in the form of a maiden with the eyes of a fox.


a dagger

“Here.”

Scouter glared at Dewshine over a handful of flowers. She hesitated, brushing her fingers over them, wondering if she had made him angry. He was angry all the time, a dark mood like thunderclouds before a storm that never broke.

“Well?” He snapped, thrusting them at her again. She took them, shakily, uncertainly.

“Th-thank you.” She sniffed them and smiled up at him. “They’re lovely!”

He stared at her, then looked sullenly at the ground, shrugging.

“You don’t have to keep them if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to keep them!” She snapped. “Do you want me to keep them?”

He scowled at her and ran away through the bushes.

Dewshine threw herself on the ground, glaring at the flowers. He’d chosen well, all sweet scented things made for friendship and softness. Or he would have chosen well if he hadn’t spent the last five nights in a sulk.

“Problem, little bird?”

Dewshine glanced up and saw her Father’s indulgent smile, beside Clearbrook.

“Scouter.”

“Ah.”

The elders sat down beside her. Treestump picked out one of the flowers, twirling it in huge hands that defied their grace.

“He’s a bit... growly, eh?”

“He’s like a badger with a nose full of needles,” Dewshine said, dropping the flowers into an unruly pile. “I don’t get it.”

“He gets it from his father,” Clearbrook said.

Treestump shoved her. “Liar! One Eye was a good cub, not like some I could name.”

The silverhaired she-elf raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so that wasn’t you who terrorized the Holt in our youth.”

“Of course not!”

Dewshine rolled her eyes, and sneaked away into the bushes. Once deep enough inside, she lay down and pondered Scouter’s moods.

It’s New Green, so he can’t be cold. Maybe his bones hurt because it’s wet. No, Rain would help him. Maybe Bristlebrush is hurt? No, he would’ve told me.

She rolled over with a huff.

He should just tell me what’s wrong. I’m his best friend!

“Dewshine?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Scouter smiled sheepishly, hands behind his back.

“The flowers were stupid.” He said.

She shook her head. “No, I liked them!”

He shrugged. “But, they weren’t... You.” He took out his hands from behind his back and extended them to her. Something gleamed between them.

“Oh!” She snatched it up. “A dagger!”

He grinned at her. “It took months to get it. The trolls kept raising the price and Father wouldn’t let me go in to get it. Bearclaw finally brought it back today.”

“No wonder you’ve been so grumpy. It’s beautiful.” She held it out to him, but he pushed it back.

“It’s yours.”

She gaped at him, shocked. “Mine?”

“I was trying to find something that was you.” He ran a hand over the hilt. “This is you. It’s pretty, but dangerous.”

“Thank- Thank you.” She hugged it. “It’s the best gift I ever had.”

He shrugged, and lay down next to her. “Are we best friends, or what?”

She wrapped her arms around him. “We are.”


a romantic gift

**That one’s yours,** Eyes High pointed up, away into the blue of the night. **That one there.**

Shale looked it, a little skeptically. **It’s sort of small, isn’t it?**

**Look more closely.**

He did. It really was just a spot of light, almost indistinguishable from the other spots around it. It barely shone, but suddenly, it pulsed, brighter, for only a moment. Then it went back to it’s stillness, softness.

Shale whirled, staring at Eyes High, who was giggling.

**See?**

**That’s an amazing gift,** he pulled out a package from his berry bag. **I brought you something, but it’s not nearly as nice.**

It was a twist of leather and fringe. She lifted it, and looked at him curiously. He blushed.

*I thought you might need something to keep your hair out of your eyes.**

**It’s so beautiful.** She looked at him shyly. **Like you.**

**It’s not like your star.**

**Your star.** She wrapped her arms around him. **You’re right, it’s better.**

And when he tried to protest, she silenced him, tenderly.


a thunderstorm

Cutter growled at thunderstorms. When Flood and Flower came he spent most of his time in the hut glaring out at them. Once Nightrunner even came in, eyes white and whining.

“He’s not used to storms like this.”Cutter explained, petting him while they curled up in a pile of blankets. Leetah tried to hide her smile, but failed.

“I see.”

“He shot a wounded look out from under the hood of a blanket. “You don’t have to laugh.”

“I’m not,” she promised. “Is there room for me in there?”

“Of course!” He pulled and tugged at the blankets, making Nightrunner roll over. “See?”

She curled up beside him and wrapped her arms around them both. “I’m not fond of storms, either.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Of course you aren’t, but they just aren’t much fun.”

“Too loud.”

“That, too.” She agreed, watching the way their hands intertwined. “But without storms, we can’t have flowers.”

“No.” He said, thoughtfully. “That’s true.”

“So they aren’t all bad, if we just get through them.”

He tugged her closer. “Still, I’d rather get through this with you than anyone else.”

She sighed, and leaned closer into him, wrinkling her nose at the smell of a wet Nightrunner. “I agree.”

The storm blew and blustered outside, but deep within a pile of blankets, the three of them snuggled into the blankets and slept, waiting out the storm.


a family member

No one sees him, no one smells him. Closer he comes and closer.

Sometimes he forgets, the now of his father driving him on. Sometimes he pauses in other places. He’s spawned tribes they don’t know of. Some they’ll never know of, died of one thing after another. Sometimes the blood mixes wrong.

But always he returns to his firstborn.

Now there’s a new one, all white and blue. All new thoughts and ideas.

He watches him. Watches the rescue, but leaves. He can tell where this is going. He’s seen it before. But the third born made it out. Of that one at least.

Maybe these ones will, too.


a necklace

Tyleet leaned over Bundles, whispering to the little wolf. Redlance glanced at Nightfall as the huntress jumped into their den and shook his head.

**I came back as soon as I heard.** Running through the brush, Whistlewind right behind her. Even now the older wolf had fought her way up the stairs to the little yearling and pushed her way in beside Tyleet.

**If she makes it through the day,** Redlance said, trying not to look at the gash along the pup’s side. **She might have a chance.**

Nightfall didn’t bother to respond to that. Wolves lived or died as they, and fate, pleased.

But this was Tyleet’s first wolffriend, and she was so young.

“Come, Tyleet,” Nightfall gently urged her child out of the den. “Leave Bundles with her friend. ShenShen will be here soon and she can help better if we aren;t in the way.”

Tyleet wiped her eyes and followed her mother, but her self control only lasted until they were by the stream. Howling, she flung herself into her mother’s arms.

“If B-Bundles dies, I want to die, too!”

“Oh, my poor cubling, how will that help?”

“Bundles is scared! She doesn’t want to be alone,” Tyleet sniffled.

Nightfall stared at the cub, helplessly. “Tyleet-“

Redlance interrupted her.

“That’s because it’s scary to be hurt and to be alone. Right now, Bundles is like a little tree branch.” He lifte Tyleet up onto his shoulders, pointing out a branch. “Sometimes the branches break pretty badly, even badly enough to break off.”

Nightfall looked at the branch, well, twig really. It was nearly snapped in two, hanging dangerously. In a moment it would break off and nothing they could do would save it.

Nothing they could do. Redlance could do something and he did. He reached out, and set the branch, and sent sap and bark flowing over and into it.

“See? The tree sometimes needs a little help, but once it knows what’s wrong, it can save it. All it needs is some help. We can be like the tree. With a little help, we might just save the branch.”

“But what if we can’t?” Tyleet spoke so softly Nightfall thought she was sending. “What if the branch falls off?”

“The tree will still grow. It’ll still be big and strong, but it never forgets losing the branch. Whenever a tree sings sad songs, it’s remembering all the branches it’s lost. But as long as the tree lives, the branch lives, in story and song.

“We’re like the tree, the tribe and the pack. Even when we lose each other, we still remember, and we still love.” He looked up at Tyleet, who was smiling, only slightly. “Always.”

He laid his hands on the tree, and his magic pulsed through it. Under his fingers, a little wolf’s head and three leaves bloomed. He held them up to Tyleet.

“Here. A pretty gift for a pretty little maiden.”

Nightfall took the string from her bow and, not needing to be asked, laced them together. She tied the result over Tyleet’s head and patted her.

“Tyleet!” ShenShen came running through the trees. “Tyleet, everyone, I have wonderful news!”

“What?” Tyleet dropped from Redlance’s shoulders. “What is it, ShenShen?”

“Bundles is going to be just fine!” The Sunvillager hugged the cub. “She’ll need to rest for a long time, and you must never go near the firebite’s nest ever again, but she will be fine.”

Tyleet wriggled away and ran back to the den, Nightfall and Redlance a step behind her. On the way, Nightfall looked at Redlance.

Beloved, if we are the branches, you are the trunk and the roots.

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Evil Evie

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 7:22 pm

Yay Em! You saved some!

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Embala

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 7:29 pm

JadeOwl wrote:
Kaaathllleeeennn...That's unfair...

*loves it*

I'm happy you're back!

I was missing my regular dose of writing-jealousy.

Kathleen wrote:
Embarassed Sorry?

Thank you.

The Wylde Wynd wrote:
Aww, those were so beautiful! My favorite was the one with Eyes-high and Shale, she gave him a star! Lovely!

Kathleen wrote:
Thanks! I liked your cute one.

@ChristinaRaibert wrote:
Wow, great job everyone! I really liked the one with Tyleet - so sweet! The interaction between Dewshine and Scouter was really cute too.
And yay! Great to see a fic with Jasnim!
(now, the question is why isn't it posted on the files section of the TLH group?? Go ahead Jade Owl and send it, there's lack of fanfictions! We really need some good stories! *hint, hint* )

JadeOwl wrote:
It is there, now.

@ChristinaRaibert wrote:
*dances an happy dance*

Siwan wrote:
I have a pic in my mind for Kathleen's story a dagger..
just .. if I want to show do I post in my thread here? or do I pm Kathleen or so? :?

Kathleen wrote:
Show it here! And thanks muchly.

Treefox wrote:
@ Wylde Wind: You story was really funny and witty! Loved it.

@ Kathleen: Your moved me deeply and left me rather misty eyed. Thanks!

I really like this new thread!

The Wylde Wynd wrote:
Yes, this is a good thread. We shall write in it and we shall call it... this thread.

Satiretto wrote:
Do I spot a Firefly reference ?

Great stories, everybody! I'm really enjoying this thread .

Kathleen wrote:
The_Wylde_Wynd wrote:
Yes, this is a good thread. We shall write in it and we shall call it... this thread.


I think we should call it... Twisted Evil YOUR GRAVE!

@MrsGrizzley wrote:
Curse your unexpected . . . but inevitable betrayal!

*growls and animal screams*

*cursing in Chinese*

Guys, we're humped!


*chuckle* Now *that* is a Firefly reference. Sorry my memory is so tanked. I've got the day off, but my brain hasn't recovered from Walmart madness yet.

Love the stories. Love all of them.

Mrs. Grizzley

the Wylde Wynd wrote:
rofl Oh I love you guys so much!

JadeOwl wrote:
You forgot the "Wahahah! Mine is an evil laugh!" part.

*hugs because you're all awesome*

krwordgazer wrote:
What fun! Everyone's stories are so great!

Wish I had time to write right now. . .

@Kojiyumi wrote:
So, so lovely.

I especially love yours, Jade. No words!

Now, next month you have to write a story with a tanuki and a tengu in it! *runs*

JadeOwl wrote:
Hmmm...the tanuki I could do Though I'm assuming I can leave out the part about them having ridiculously large testicles :? but Tengu....brrr

Oh, and thank you, very much! Embarassed

redshine wrote:
👏 Very nicely done, everyone!

*scratches head* Suppose it's time to get the drawing board out & catch up with the writers ...

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyMon Jun 26, 2017 7:42 pm

krwordgazer wrote:
Finally found some time. . .


ARCHER'S RETURN


The storm that had rocked the tree dens and stabbed the air with skyfire had ceased at last. Strongbow, lying quiet under the furs, turned over to gaze out. Moonshade had left him as soon as the rain had slowed to a gentle patter on the leaves above. She needed to bring more food, she had explained, so he could keep growing stronger.

Wyl shook his head at himself, at all he had put Eyrn through. He could hardly believe he and Lashpaw still lived, ravaged by the foaming sickness as they had been. What Old Maggoty had required in payment for her painful cure, Wyl could scarcely imagine. He only knew that as soon as he was strong again, in any way he could he would make it up to his tribe.

And to Eyrn.

There was a rustle in the bushes, and a small, red creature tumbled between the still-dripping trees into the clearing below. A fox cub. It shook itself, then leaped playfully on a pine cone, pouncing and tossing its head to send the thing bouncing across the clearing. The vixen appeared then, grabbed the straying youngster by the back of its neck and carried it off-- back to its den and away from the danger of the nearby wolf pack.

Strongbow shook his head again, reminded of his own escapade. A stray cub returned to the den-- that’s what he felt like. If he hadn’t felt so warm and peaceful and grateful to be home, he would have felt more embarrassed . . .

Strongbow’s nostrils flared appreciatively at Moonshade’s scent as his keen ears caught her movements up the tree. He smiled to see the dagger she had loaned him glinting again at her slender waist. Of its own accord a hand stole out from under the furs to rest on her hip. She gazed down at him, her lips curving.

*Not yet, lifemate,* she sent. *No play for you till you’re well and strong again.*

He smiled back at her and reached up to trace the twin silver moons hanging at her throat by a slim, delicate cord. He well remembered how much meat the trolls had demanded for that piece of work. Odd how their thick fingers could make a thing like this. . .

Wyl shook himself back into the Now. Lying here with so little to do gave his mind too much time to wander.

Moonshade set aside the leaf-wrapped meat she had brought and unrolled the bundle she had been carrying tucked under her arm. “I have something for you.“ She gave the thing a brisk shake and held it up.

*My tunic. Good as new.*

Moonshade laughed. “Hardly! I had to make it all over again after what you did to it.” She sobered suddenly, holding him in the grip of her eyes. *Don’t ever scare me like that again.*

His nod spoke apology, regret and acquiescence all at once. He reached behind him. *I have something for you, too.*

It was a single, white flower, floating in a candle bowl that he had filled with water. The reflected petals glistened in the water like a second, perfect bloom.

*Oh, Wyl!* But Moonshade was suddenly stern. “You didn’t leave your furs to go down the tree and fetch this!”

Strongbow shook his head, a rare, teasing look crinkling the edges of his eyes and mouth. *I wouldn’t dare. But Zhantee wanted to know if I wanted anything. He asked no questions.*

Moonshade’s lips parted as he held the bowl and flower out to her, but she did not speak. Tears shone in her eyes.

*My Eyrn,* Wyl sent. *Thank you.*

And there was no need to say anything more.


THE END.


Edit: The typo said the fox cub was pounding instead of pouncing. Whoops.



The Wylde Wynd wrote:
Aaaaw! That is so sweet! I love those two and you captured them perfectly!

JadeQwl wrote:
Wow, Kr. I like Strongbow, but I have trouble reading fics about him. Only you and Wendy can make me FEEL Strongbow. Thank you.

crescent1325 wrote:
i just love how you spin your stories Kmom. Such imagery.. so lovely... one of my fav of yours.

krwordgazer wrote:
Wow. Thanks, ladies! Embarassed

Kathleen wrote:
*sighs and cuddles story*

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 2:11 pm

redshine wrote:
That is sooooo sweet, krwordgazer!

Well, don't have much time because if my hubby finds out I'm still not asleep, I'll be in trouble Rolling Eyes Apologies for the third grade inking and the lack of time in colouring Embarassed

So, here goes - a picture containing a romantic gift, a dagger, a fox, a thunderstorn (the squiggles in the top right hand corner Embarassed ) and a family member ...

Click HERE for picture!

Treefox wrote:
Cool redshine! I like the idea of the gift being Rayek giving Leetah that necklace. Poos Suntoucher...but that fox is just too cute!

redshine wrote:
Thank you, Treefox

The Wylde Wynd wrote:
And that lovelyness *points at picture* you call third grade inking? You're mean.*goes off to sulks over total lack of drawing skills*

krwordgazer wrote:
It's marvelous, Redshine! To me, the grab-bag elements in this picture become symbolic-- with Rayek and Leetah's love, things in the Sun Village aren't as tame as they once were (the desert fox) and there is trouble brewing on the horizon (the thunderstorm). The tooth necklace and the dagger symbolize the the fierceness and independence of these two youngest villagers, Rayek and Leetah, and how things are never going to be quite the same again now that they have come along. . .

redshine wrote:
Thanks, Boardmum!!! That's a lovely interpretation of it all!

*tries to coax The_Wylde_Wynd out of sulky corner with some cookies and hot chocolate*

The Wylde Wynd wrote:
COOKIES!*tackles cookies and hot chocolate* Me no sulky no more! Thankies!*hugs Redshine*

@manga wrote:
Lovely stories! I'm still puzzling out Kathleen's bit about the first and thirdborn. Hrm...

Hey Redshine, can I put a copy of the picture up on my Rayek-obsession page?

redshine wrote:
@ manga - Yes, you sure may. I'd be honoured

There's another Rayek portrait on my thread. An one of Rayek & Khavi dancing tango. If you like them, you can have them too!

Ooops - sorry ... ending spamming now Embarassed

@manga wrote:
That wasn't spamming, Redshine. That was feeding my addiction.

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 2:27 pm

@Nightsea wrote:

- illustration of the little family is missing here - Sad

Little Strongbow dropped his stuffed fox and reached up for
his father's warm hand. The air was getting colder as the
night approached, and the Wolfriders had just arisen from
warm dens.

He was unaware, as was Trueflight, that his father's dagger
was balancing a new precious gift for his Lifemate. The
delicate butterfly had been preserved in a hard treesap
and dried before a fire for ages and was finally
deemed ready on this night for wearing. Stormburst
always took great delight in adorning Trueflight in
shiny metals and little refections of her beauty.

He had just been about to swing the sword forward when
his small son had demanded attention.

Trueflight had been puzzled when asked to remove her bow,
but as usual, she didn't hesitate to do as her beloved
requested. He was a sly one and often didn't explain
in words anyway. He was fond of showing things in
sudden sweeps of an arm, sending a fast image to tease
the imagination, smirking while he dangled things just
out of sight until he could tell he had built up her
anticipation. She had earned her reputation in the
tribe for patience with more than her skill in the
hunt!

Moonshade's creation of skyfire across his chest
was an apt symbol for this unpredictable and bright
Wolfrider. He allowed his son to climb up for a
moment before swinging him back to the forest floor.
He kept his small dagger level enough to hold the
chain with difficulty as the child rocked on his
arm like a treewee on a branch, then the lad's feet
were under him steady again and Trueflight turned
her blue eyes his way.

The moment stretched like a wolf awaking until he
could tell that she would soon pounce on him. She
would only last so long before seeking his arms or
reaching out for his thoughts with a sending. Just
as her lips curled for speech, he brought forth the
gleaming multicolored prize hanging on the edge of
his troll-made sword.

Her eyes focused on the movement
in a heartbeat and her smile of wonder filled him
with joy. Even Strongbow, normally prone to sulking,
was curious enough to try to reach for the necklace
but his father was swift as one of his mother's arrows
and the token was bestowed into Trueflight's hands
safely.

A moment later and it adorned her moonlight pale neck.
Without her bow in the way it had been easy to settle
in place.

The sending they shared then as a family was silent
to the outside woods, but as sweet as honey.

---------
a fox
a dagger
a romantic gift
a thunderstorm
a family member
a necklace
------
--Nightsea



JadeOwl wrote:
You made the thunderstorm a PERSON! That is so awesome!

I like it a lot. Nice opicture of what Strongbow's childhood might have been like.

Treefox wrote:
Very nice and original, Nightsea!

@Nightsea wrote:
Thanks!
--NS

redshine wrote:
*Agrees with Treefox* 👏

Siwan wrote:
sorry for the long time I'm taking Sketch was in my mind just clearing something out ..
adding some things that are also in the story ^^

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 2:50 pm

Thallasia wrote:
Great stories, everyone! Very creative!
And I love you drawing, Redshine!

Here is my entry (with just a few lines of story at the bottom)

- picture art missing -

"I asked Moonshade to make this for you... from Eyes High's hair ornament", Skywise whispered.
"It's beautiful", Foxfur replied,"But...but I thought you wanted to keep it...so you wouldn't forget?"
Skywise smiled,"Well, I figured it would look better on you"
"And I'd rather share your memories of how my parents lived, than remember the human's story of how they died"

@Arthis wrote:
beautiful moment!

Satiretto wrote:
As Arthis said. Very touching, Thallasia

Treefox wrote:
Oh sweetness! Well captured!

Thallasia wrote:
Thankies! Glad you all liked it.

krwordgazer wrote:
Ooh! Nightsea, that was great! Thanks for responding to my nagging for more writing from you! And I love both Nightsea's and Thallasia's pictures. Such original and delightful conceptions, and great working in of all the elements!

redshine wrote:
*Agrees with everyone else*

I know that's lame but there's really nothing else I could say apart from that I loved those new contributions!

@Nightsea wrote:
krwordgazer wrote:
Ooh! Nightsea, that was great! Thanks for responding to my nagging for more writing from you! And I love both Nightsea's and Thallasia's pictures. Such original and delightful conceptions, and great working in of all the elements!

*Glows* I appreciate the praise!

Thallasia made a very lovely Foxfur image. I like
seeing her without the hat. And the necklace was cool.

Please feel free to nag anytime, krwordgazer!
hehehe
--Nightsea

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 3:03 pm

SnowWren wrote:
[Some of the following are excerpts from Elfquest: The Blood of Ten Chiefs; by Pini, Asprin, and Abbey, eds.]

Ember and Teir walked together to the base of howling rock. Tonight she wore the full garb of her chiefdom. The dagger her father had given her was sheathed at her side. The spear, her chosen weapon, was in one hand. Moonshade's gift to her from so long ago was in her hair, and the necklace given by Teir, was around her neck. Every bit her father's daughter, Ember knew that it was her place to start the howl. Still, she was nervous. She'd never done it herself, and she didn't know what to expect. As she and Teir stepped up to the tribe, she looked around, and walked forward. Teir sat down near Yun and Mender, watching Ember.

Lightning crackled across the horizon. The Hunt elves had gathered at the base of howling rock, a circle formed around the tribe storyteller, Pike. Dewshine was crouched near him, ready to try her hand at her first story during the first howl the tribe had since returning to the plains. As the elves waited for the dreamberries to take effect, Dewshine and Pike conferred, finally deciding which story to tell, and which former chief to howl for.

When the pair seemed unable to come to a conclusion, Ember spoke up. "Let us howl for recognition, for love, for courage, and for survival" She locksent to Pike and Dewshine, **Let this be a gift to the tribe, a story we have not heard, or have not shared... one that the NOW demands we forget.** They nodded, and Pike sent to her, letting her know what to do.

Ember stood to take her place in the circle... The elves and wolves joined in an ethereal howl as lightning crackled, the thunderstorm growing closer. She removed her dagger from her sheath and stuck the center of her palm. The Wolfriders new what was next... as each drop of blood fell, the tribe changed...

Timmorn, Yellow-Eyes
Rahnee, She-Wolf

As the next name was spoken Ember took the blade and caught the drop of blood: Prey-Pacer.

"Tonight's howl," Ember said, "Is for Prey-Pacer."

Prunepit had just finished hunting fox when he received the news... The Wolfriders had just lost Rahnee, She-Wolf, to an Allos. There was no chief. She-Wolf had sired many cubs with her lifemate, Zarhan Fastfire. There was one member of the tribe, though, with ideas of how to choose a chief...

Wreath, beautiful beyond description, suggested that the one who could stop the menace of the allos become the next chief. The elves agreed, but they were not sure any of them could stop the terrible reptiles. Allos were big, vicious, and numerous. "No single Wolfrider could stand against an Allo in combat, and indeed, their best hunters had been savaged as a group. The elves were simply outmatched. 'If we don't get a leader,' Wreath pointed out, 'we shall have to flee our holt.'" No elf stepped forward, and the tribe dispersed to mourn the loss of She-Wolf, and to ponder what should happen next.

Prunepit and Softfoot stayed up late that night, talking about the dire situation. They'd been lifemates for longer than either could remember, but they'd never recognized. Though he was the firstborn of She-Wolf and Zarhan Fastfire, Prunepit did not feel he would be the next Chief. His sendings fell painfully short compared to the ability of others. Softfoot alone "appreciated Prunepit's strenght and had not perceived him as mentally stunted. It had not been hard for him to love her."

As the hours waxed late, Prunepit acknowledged that he might have a way to stop the Allos. He had a gift which was unappreciated by the elves, but which made him respected by the wolves.

He spoke.... "If I could relate to an allo, then we could hunt allos. That would give us and our wolves suitable prey, and help reduce the numbers of the reptiles, until the normal ratio of animals returned."

Softfoot shook her head. "You couldn't hunt an allo, Prunepit! They say that a single allo killed Rahnee and two other hunters and two wolves, and it wasn't even the largest allo! Those monsters have horny scales that make them almost invulnerable to our weapons, and their teeth are horrendous. We can't even recover Rahnee's body from them."

"They are like snakes," he said doggedly, suppressing the thougth of his mother's body; there was indeed nothing the elves could do about that. "That means they are slow to move in the cool morning, and not too smart. They can't have armor on their eyes. If we knew how to avoid their teeth and claws, we hould be able to score on a weak point. And I do know."

"You aren't afraid? An allo is no ravvit, you know; it's a predator."

Prunepit's mouth was dry. "I'm terrified. But we have to find a way to fight allos, and I think I can."


They agreed to sleep on it and consider it again in the morning. The next morning, Prunepit was more convinced than before, and he determined to test out his theory. He called to Halfhowl, his wolf-friend, and explained needing a wolf to volunteer to do something special. Three wolves appeared... Halfhowl, Hardfoot (Softfoot's wolf-friend), and Silvertooth. Silvertooth was a surprise to him... she'd been Rahnee's wolf-friend, and she was badly injured, having just barely escaped the day before. Silvertooth explained to him that at least this way she could be useful. The small group moved toward a clearing in the woods.

Just as they were about to engage in the trial, Wreath entered the small clearing. Softfoot explained that Prunepit had an idea about how to stop the allos. Wreath looked to Prunepit, asking "What is it?", when their eyes met.

As their eyes met, something happened. Prunepit had always known that Wreath was beautiful.... Her soul name poured out to him, and his to her.

A horrified look crossed her face... "No," she whispered, horrified, staring back at him. "Not this!"

"What's the matter?" Softfoot asked, perplexed.

"It's Recognition," Wreath said, never breaking off her gaze into Prunepit's face. "I know your soulname. I know it's meaning. But I never sought this!!"

"Neither did I," Prunepit said. "I love Softfoot."

"It can't be!" Softfoot cried.

Wreath wrenched her gaze from Prunepit. "Why did this have to happen now?"

"Maybe we can fight it," Prunepit said without conviction.

Softfoot regrouped. "Fight it? Easier to fight the allos!" she said angrily. "Recognition is absolute." Then she realized what she was saying, and tears stifled her. Her relationship with Prunepit had been based on understanding and acceptance and respect, not Recognition. Recognition was the involuntary mating of particular elves, seeming to be a mechanism of the species to ensure offspring that bred true.

"It must be a mistake," Prunepit said. "I don't love Wreath."

"And I don't love you," Wreath said. "I never had any interest in you! I don't have any interest now!"
Wreath had been nicknamed Ice Princess by many of the elves because of her seeming lack of emotion. Now that she was showing emotion, it was negative. Prunepit was not surprised.

Softfoot suggested a solution... "Since Recogntion can't be resisted, the only way to make it go away is to complete it. I know you love me, Prunepit; Why don't you do what you have to do with her, and when it's done, turn your back on it and be with me? I confess it's not my favorite situation, but it does seem to be the best way through." .

Prunepit and Wreath would answer the demands of recognition and they would go on as if nothing had happened. Since Wreath was the catch of the tribe, tribesmembers would not know who the lucky elf was. Softfoot found a place for them to meet the demands without others spying on them, and Prunepit and Wreath disappeared for a while.

Softfoot rode Hardfoot, circling around the thicket. She knew she'd done something foolish: she had made a decision that could affect the rest of her life, and had not slept on it. If it turned out wrong, it would be because of that carelessness.

Yet how could it turn out wrong? Recognition could not be opposed. She was no strong telepath, but she had picked up enough to know that what had passed between Prunepit and Wreath was valid. She also believed them when they said that they had neither sought nor wanted it. Recognition did not require its chosen to seek it; it chose on its own basis, trampling under any other concerns. If she had fought it, encouraging her lifemate to flee it, he would have sickened, and his love for her would have suffered. From the moment the Recognition occurred, Prunepit and Wreath were destined to mate. There was nothing else she could do but accept it.

Then where was the error? As she mulled it over, she knew what it was. She had ignored Wreath's motives. Oh, of course Wreath had no more choice than did Prunepit; Recognition accepted no motive.... but now, Prunepit might become chief, if his idea worked. If he became chief, he would be suitable material for Wreath's interest. Her interest, once aroused, was apt to be devastating. ...What was planned as a strictly temporary tryst was in danger of becoming more than that, and Softfoot could do nothing to prevent it. Wreath's beauty, her total self-interest, and Recognition made that clear. She was stuck. She loved Prunepit, and would always love him, but perhaps would lose him. She laid her head against Hardfoot's furry shoulder and let the tears flow.


When Wreath and Prunepit emerged, it was evident that Softfoots fears were not totally misplaced. If Wreath chose to, she could take Prunepit from Softfoot at any moment. Softfoot was devastated, but she took her place by Prunepit's side. The three elves, their wolves, and Silvertooth proceeded without speaking to a clearing to test Prunepits theory, and it worked. The group then took it to the elves to perform another test among the elves, demonstrating to them what Pruenpit could do.

__________________

The first time the group moved in on the allo, they were nervous. As they attacked, they found that Prunepit could indeed be in touch with the reptilious creatures, and he then put the wolves in touch with it. The wolves were able to stay one step ahead of the allo, but the elves were not able to stop it or hurt it. When a second allo headed toward the group, the elves retreated to the holt to figure out what to do.

Wreath suggested to Prunepit that they try tarballs with fire on them, reminding him that though the allos were tough outside, they were not tough inside. Prunepit questioned her motive in telling him, knowing that if she took credit, she could become chief. "I am no leader... you know that... But you are" she had told him.

The tribe joined in on the hunt, and they found the fireballs to be effective. What they had not planned on, however, was that as soon as one allo was down, another would take its place. And though Prunepit could keep in touch with the allos and keep elves and wolves safe, he could not keep up the pace all day. The tribe needed to work together as a unit, and they needed a chief to do that. Wreath reminded him that he was rightful chief since his abilities were helping them to fight the allos.

There was a need for continuing leadership that could handle problems as they came, whatever they might be.

Prunepit gathered the tribe. "We agreed that whoever solved the problem of the allos would be chief," he said. "I have shown how to solve it, so I am declaring myself chief. I admit that the problem is not over yet, but I will dedicate myself to dealing with it. I am the only one who can unify the minds of the wolves with the mind of hte prey, and that i what we need to do this job."

He paused. There was no reaction. They were waiting on him to finish before they drew conclusions. "To signify this deterimination, I am taking a new name. I enable the wolve to link with the prey, to pace it, moving before it can move. Therefore I will call myself Prey-Pacer, adn that will be my name as long as I am chief.... Though I am chief, I do not know all the anwers to all the problems. I never expected to be chief, before my mother died, and have had no practice in it. I know I will make mistakes if I try to decide everything myself. So my decision is--to make no significant decision without first getting the best advice I can. For example, I don't know how to stop the allos from taking the meat of whichever ones we kill. Does anyone here know?"


The tribe was happy to offer suggestions, and they moved together to go back to the allos. Softfoot was wary of Wreath's role in all this. Prey-Pacer was, too, but he was also still burning from their encounter earlier, and he was feeling the pull of Recognition, or simply desire, again. He knew that if Wreath exerted her will on him, he might just give in and leave Softfoot, the elf he really loved.

There was a roar. Another allo had come across them, and was charging in. The elves leaped for their wolves. But Wreath reached for an arrow first, dipping it into the firepot. She took aim at the monster bearing down on her.

Prey-pacer, astride Halfhowl, looked back, abruptly realizing that Wreath had not mounted. He had never witnessed an act of greater courage! But it was foolish courage, because she had no way to escape the reptile in time. Already the allo's huge head was orienting on her, sweeping down as the terrible jaws opened. Curlfur remained close to her, but could not make her mount before she was ready.

Wreath fired into the open mouth. The flaming arrow went right into the throat. The allo choked, but its momentum was sugh that even as it stumbled, it was coming down to crush the elf-woman. It wa far too late for Prey-Pacer to do anything, even if he had been able to act.

Then a shape shot by, passing almost under the falling monster. It was a wolf and rider, leaping to intercept Wreath. The rider launched from the wolf, pushing off to tackle Wreath and shove her out of the way as the allo's head and neck whomped down at her.

The monster struck the ground. Wreath stumbled clear, safe by the narrowest margin. But her rescuer had not made it; her legs were pinned under the fallen allo.

Then Prey-Pacer realized who it was. Softfoot... lifemate, friend... lay there, unconscious.

Prey-Pacer was the first to reach them. "Why did she do it?" He gasped, horrified.

Wreath swallowed. She was not so cold as to overlook the narrowness of her escape. "Because she loves you," She said, awed.

"But you are her rival!"

"And she was protecting your child---whoever carried it," Wreath added. "I think I could not have done that."

Softfoot groaned. "She' alive!" Prey-pacer exclaimed.

"But will be lame, I fear," Wreath said. "She never was apt on her feet, and now will be worse. She iwll need a lot of attention." She gazed down at Softfoot, and a tear rolled down her cheek. It seemed taht her cold heart had at last been touched. Then, as the other Wolfrider arrived, she raised her voice. "Get sticks! Lever this monster off the chief's lifemate! She saved my life!"

Then Prey-Pacer knew that no matter who bore his child, no one would try to separate him from Softfoot. One woman had acted with measureless courage and brought down an allo single-handed. The other had acted with similar courage, and with measureless generosity, and won the respect and gratitude of two who would not forget....



Pike continued... "Prey-pacer was chief, and wa known as the bet of elfin hunters, even though he was not good with weapons or with sending. He helped to get rid the swarm of allos, and the few that remained retreated to wherever they'd come from. Prey-pacer had several children. The firstborn of his children was Wreath's daughter, Skyfire, who inherited the beauty and the nerve of her mother. Another was Softfoot's son, Swift-Spear, who led our tribe for a time as Two Spear. For a long time, only Softfoot's cubs were known, until the secret of Skyfire no longer mattered.

_____

The howl was over, but the tribe was awake. The Dreamberries had not quite worn off, and many were talking about the allos, the battles, and the recognitions, secret and others. Dewshine, Scouter, and Tyleet were talking about how glad they were that they all got along. Scouter confessed he probably wouldn't have tried to save Tyldak's life.

Mender was with Yun, but his mind was elsewhere.

Elsewhere...
Teir and Ember lay wrapped in one another's arms. Ember remembered talking with Skyfire and related those instances to Teir. "But I've never heard the story of her mother and father. How awful, not to really be close to your father... My parents love one another, even though mother didn't want father originally. I think if Softfoot hadn't saved him, Preypacer and Wreath would have remained together."

Teir wasn't listening... he was wrapped up in his thoughts.

"Teir... you're not listening. Where are you?"

"That story... it seemed, familiar. I've heard of the allos before. And the gift that prey-pacer had, well..."

"That's the same gift YOU have!!!!"

"And my father before me."

"Hmmm...." Ember thought.

"Ember, did the tribes ever split before you and your father?"

"Well, yes, they did. After Skyfire challenged Two-Spear... Though Skyfire lost, Two Spear took part of the tribe and left. They were never seen again."

"Then maybe... maybe I'm from that group of elves? I wish I knew..."

"IF you were, then your gift makes sense.... You would be a descendent of Prey-Pacer, then, maybe... But neither Mender nor Mother mentioned wolf-blood in you.... I don't understand."

"Neither do I, K'chaiya... but maybe, one day, we will." He wrapped his arms around her and let himself be lost in the now that was Ember.

It's better when there's love



krwordgazer wrote:
Wow, this is an interesting way to do it, SnowWren! You've woven the elements in so nicely. And what an interesting speculation, that Teir is descended from Prey-Pacer! You could very well be right!

I enjoyed your story very much.

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Embala

Embala

Capricorn Pig
Posts : 12255
Join date : 2012-06-24
Age : 60
Location : Germany

Grab bag February 2007 - reposted Empty
PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 3:25 pm

Siwan wrote:
so so so so sorry ...
a bit too late Embarassed

- picture art missing -

A Dagger (big version)



krwordgazer wrote:
No, you're not too late, Siwan. The grab-bag threads are always open.

Nice work!

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Embala

Embala

Capricorn Pig
Posts : 12255
Join date : 2012-06-24
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Location : Germany

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PostSubject: Re: Grab bag February 2007 - reposted   Grab bag February 2007 - reposted EmptyTue Jun 27, 2017 3:39 pm

LadyArill wrote:
(Cracks knuckles and toes)
Lemme at it, baby! You all know who I'm gonna write about...
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Voll sloshed his way back to the tribe's tree and cave camp, every inch of him soaked to the bone due to the pelting rain that was falling from above. Grumbling, the young Elf hitched his catch of three rabbits over his shoulder and fought his way through the bushes that surrounded his tribe's home, sending a red furred fox darting for cover (not before it gave him a reproachful look, however). Wearily, he hopped over the smoking remains of the out door cook fire and pushed his way into the main cave.

"I'm back and half drowned." he called as a deep rumble echoed from outside. His mother Gibra came over and took his catch from his cold hands, smiling at his sodden appearance.

"Did you go swimming as well as hunting, my son? Your appearance certainly suggests it." she teased, taking the rabbits over to where Toorik and Aburra were sitting by the indoor fire.

"Very funny, Mother. Do you happen to know where Winnowill is?" Voll inquired, squeezing the water out of his long white hair.

"If I am not mistaken, she is in your private cave room. Poor thing isn't very fond of skyfire storms..." Gibra muttered absently, gutting the first rabbit with Voll's dagger. The youth stood to ponder just when his mother had snatched his knife from him for a moment, then shook his head and headed for the modest stairwell on the other side of the room, taking the steps two at a time. He emerged onto the second floor and walked down the short hall to the little room he and his lovemate happily shared. Dripping water everywhere, he pushed aside the hide door to see Winnowill sitting on their bed, mending a shirt of his.

"Hello, beloved. I am back." Voll said, bending over Winnowill and kissing her. She smiled up at him, green eyes shining.

"Did you fall in the river or is it really that bad out there?" she asked coyly, setting aside her sewing and pulling him down next to her.

"It really is that bad out there. Why is everyone so confidant that my drenched condition has to do with my falling into water?? I know there have been a few incidents but now it is just getting insulting." he complained, pulling her to him. Winnowill drew back and plucked at his tunic.

"You'll catch your death if you remain in these clothes! Change out of them right now!" she commanded, not answering his question.

"Yes Mother." Voll said sardonically, stripping off his tunic and the linen shirt under it. He tossed them to his love mate, who laid them out before their small fire , and began yanking off his boots and breeches. Winnowill came over to the bed and wrapped an extra fur around Voll's bare, shivering shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck affectionately. Suddenly, a blast of thunder from outside made the stone beneath them tremble. Winnowill gave a jump and a small scream, eyes wide. Voll, knowing that Winnowill held a great fear of storms, reached out and pulled her onto his lap before wapping the fur around them both. Winnowill turned her head and kissed him lightly in thanks. She leaned back against him, not caring that his bear claw necklace dug into the nape of her neck. Smiling, she touched the small, star shaped clearstone necklace that Voll had bestowed upon her when they became lovemates...truly she couldn't have been happier with any other in the world!
END

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
(Bangs head on laptop)
Can't(Crash!)Write(Crash!)Worth(Crash!)Crap!(Crash!)
But will that stop me from begging for somebody to draw me a picture of this? Not likely.
Kudos to the more talented artists/authors! Your stories made my socks mosh in their drawer!!



The Wylde Wynd wrote:
Aw! I love it Arill! There's not enough Voll/Winnie in the world! But still...
...
...
...
...
...
Twisted Evil RAYEK/WINNOWILL 4EVA!!!!!!!*runs and hides*

LadyArill wrote:
(Twitches)
Must...strangle...NON BELIEVER!!
(Chases after Wynd with talon whip stolen from Kureel)

JadeOwl wrote:
That made me go "Aaaaaaaaawwwwww!" out loud. Though if I can make a suggestion, I'd add in some line breaks for easy reading.

And as for my stand in the Rayek/Winnie, Winni/Voll thing....well, remaining neutral for now. Cool

You'll just have to see.

@Nightsea wrote:
Lady Arill wrote:
somebody to draw me a picture of this?

You seemed to like my last reply to your previous request...
so viola:

Grab bag February 2007 - reposted Vinnomance07

The moonstone star was a challenge. Not sure I answered it,
but that's all I have time for right now.

Sending happy thoughts,
--Nightsea

LadyArill wrote:
(Huggles Nightsea picture)
Voll = shmexy Elf...Oh, Winny? Do you share?
Thanks!

And Wynd, I WILL find you....I have spies everywhere...(melts into shadows)

I thought I put page breaks in there....hmmm...(Goes off in search of page breaks, comes up empty) Well, nuts. Thanks for the suggestion, Jade Owl.

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