Long Lost Leaves

[feawen]

Nami stopped and turned to Quickleaf "My, now that was philosophical! I am glad the birds and breasts think well of us!"

Nami frowned slightly, "Dont say unappealing. We may not understand or agree but its a way of life i guess. It must be hard for Abasi, i know i miss my family when im not with them. Me and him may not get on but im glad his got Tabrîl to talk to, at least she understands him. Somethings aren't born cartain ways but made that way be events. I am founate enough to have lived a relatively easy life, who can say what happens in peoples lives to make them the way they are."

Nami carried on walking for a few moments, "Wait have i just contridicted my self. So like a woman to change like the wind!"

[Curufin]

Abasi sighed, and nodded slightly. There was no reason to answer - her words were true and did not need confirmation from him. When she spoke of leaving, however, he looked at her a bit in suprise before regaining his composure.

'You will, of course, do as you must.'

[Aikanáro]

'They will be expecting me to return,' she said, and shrugged. That was all she needed to say. Tabrîl could not ignore what her people required of her.

A thought came to her then, and she frowned slightly. 'I should tell them of you.' Abasi, m'had without a tribe. It was certainly something of the outside world that they deserved to hear. 'Do you object?'

If he did, likely it would make little difference. But Tabrîl asked anyway.

[Curufin]

'I do not,' he said simply, knowing that she would whether he approved or not.

He looked up, at the sun overhead, then down at the grass upon which they walked, lost in thought for a moment.

'Are there many of you?' he asked suddenly.

[Aikanáro]

It was well, then, Tabrîl thought. She would speak with the m'haid about him, and see what they thought of the matter.

'Many?' she echoed his question. 'To you we would seem many, perhaps. But we are far fewer than we once were.' She sighed, tugged at the hood of her cloak a little, uncomfortable with the thought. 'I walked the forest alone, and that would not have been our way, in years past.' To her, it meant they were far too few, but this she would not say, not to Abasi who had no kinsmen left.

'But we are enough,' she added then, firmly, remembering that he was still a stranger-m'had and diminished numbers might seem as weakness to him. 'We endure, as always.'

[orithil]

"Now this is a feast!" laughed Hedrim as he began looking across the platter that had been laided out and taking whatever he pleased. He poured himself a glass of elvish wine and took a piece of venison he stretched out and relaxed.

[Coffeehouse]

The fire burned feriously in a circular pit in the midst of the camp. Tall oak trees stood all around, forming an impressive wall of greens. A few guards were placed beneath and up in some of the trees, invisible in the near-pitch black darkness of the forest shadow. The company was right to feel safe.

Quite ready to rest, Quickleaf had found a comfortable place by the campfire. The night was reasonably young and he found himself confronted with tasteful elven wine and delicious foods. He could not remember the last time he'd been offered such a feast

Quickleaf begun sharpening Grayblade, preparing to engineer some arrows at first light the next morning. Moving his sharpening-rock from the hilt and upwards, he sang
"Watered-Steel Blade, the World Perfection Calls,
Drunk with the viper poison foes appals,
Cuts lively, burns the blood whene'er it falls;
And picks up gems from pave of marble halls"
Having travelled in solitude for many years now he had developed an affection for his sword. It never failed him when darkness crept up on him, it was a life-saver.

Yet with the handling of such a beautiful sword came responsibilities.
Being uncareful with it was reckless,
using it where words still held sway was irresonsible,
and hiding behind it, always reaching for it in times of unease, was unforgiveable.

[orithil]

Hedrim hearing Quickleaf sing brought out his lute and began to play a beautiful tune.

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

Borin, hearing this sudden outburst of music began sining a song in dwarven while playing a set of spoons.

[Coffeehouse]

Happy to be joined, Quickleaf began singing

"Through the forest, on my journey
o'er the hill, to see my lady
From darkness to the light
But I'm forever tracing a memory

'Neath the sun, where is your song
O'er the mountains, it can't be long
Past the rains, and through the fire
I'm searching for you and time is still young"

[Aikanáro]

The camp was much as she had expected, and Tabrîl, seeing no need to stay close to the others save for the warmth the fire provided, chose a place for herself some distance from the center. After a brief moment's hesitation she undid the fastenings of her cloak, laid it out as a blanket on the ground, and knelt down upon it, pulling her sword over and across her lap. This posture she maintained a while, listening to the singing and the music of the uwindi. Strange it was to her ears, and she would have preferred silence, but it was more melodic, at least, than incomprehensible chatter.

What stirred Tabrîl in the end was not the need for company, but for food, as the smell of what seemed to be a veritable feast drifted over to her. It was not to the others she went, though, but over to Haldis' mule which carried her small bag. She would not be indebted to this group, she had decided, even for so much as a meal, as she did not know their laws of hospitality. She had gathered nuts and fruit enough to sustain her that day and the next, by which time she would have the opportunity to hunt or to forage again as it pleased her.

She strode back over to her resting place, silver honors jingling as she did so. Dressed simply, in a knee-length grey tunic over green leggings, Tabrîl appeared less of a mystery than before. She wore her dark hair in a single braid, the end portion of it tucked into her belt, and along with her straight sword, she carried two sheathed knives.

It was one of these she turned her attention to next, holding it up to the firelight as if to be sure of its condition. Satisfied, she placed it neatly back in its place, and only then did she kneel again and begin to eat.

[orithil]

Hedrim laughed "The others really don't know how to have fun, they should join us!" he continued playing the lute and began to play some more, but as the night became darker the songs he played became sadder and more mysterious.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis, too, sat apart from the group. She had eaten already and was now sitting cross-leggedwith her face to the forest.
Had anybody been watching her closely, they would realized that she was sitting unnaturally still for an adaneth; and had anyone tried to speak to her, she would not have answered, for at the moment, Haldis was not there. 'There' being inside her body.
She was present, watching and listening very intently both to the noisy singing around the fire, and the deeper murmurs of the forest at night, and the forest listened to her in turn as she related to it the doings of its thinking children.
The day's interactions and lack of interactions had disturbed her so now, with her mind sent out into the bodies of the trees where all was quiet, she was mostly asking instructions.

[Aikanáro]

Haldis, the mortal woman, had not joined the others, Tabrîl noticed, and this intrigued her, as she had not earlier appeared the solitary type. It did not matter what she did, she supposed, these uwindi were beyond her understanding, and in any case she would be leaving them in the morning.

It would be prudent, she decided, that she took a reasonable amount of rest that night, she would have a lot of ground to cover the next day. But she would sit a while longer, and watch them, for there was nothing better to focus her attentions.

Unless... she glanced over at Abasi, curiously. Did he play, she wondered.

[feawen]

Nami took a small plate of food and sit just out from the others. She liked music but she was not musical her self. She played nothing and her singing voice was nothing to be desired.

After eating her meal, she got up and started walking around the camp, listening to the music and the sounds of the forest. As she neared the elves that guarded this place she stopped and talked to thoses that she know. Asking how her family was and for any new news of the forest. Really she should go and see her family. Normally many years could pass with out seeing your family, but the years were like a drop in the sea and mattered little. But her father would worry she know this. Since her mothers death he had kept her close to home, not wanting to lose her too. Would she really be needed for this part of the jounary, suchly one people could be spared from the underground, it would give her the change to see her family.

Nami shook the idea out of her head and carried on walking. As she neared Tibril Nami nodded her head slightly to her in greeting.

[Willow Oran]

When Haldis returned to her body, it was with one of the most puzzling answers the Forest had ever granted her. To do as it was asking... such a spell was not wrought lightly.
Reaching into the pouch at her belt, Haldis pulled forth four black, polished stones, her rune-stones, which when the way was unclear, lent a little certainty to a decision. They had yet to fail her.
Checking to see that none were watching, she waited until Tabrîl's attention had shifted elsewhere, Haldis closed the stones inside her fist and, asking for conformation, 'was this right? was it worth the risk to both involved?' she rolled open her palm and let the stones fall, haphazard, to the ground.
Runes all up, her mind's ears had indeed not erred. There was much to do.

First the hair, that she obtained from the cloak on the ground, two strands only had snagged in the fabric and through the eyes of a passing mouse she spied and stole them. Keeping her work in the Forest's shadow and absencing her presence from the notice of all around she plucked four strands of her own and wove two braids, slowly, the binding would only be as tight as the weaving.
And when the two slim strips of braided hair were laid out before her, finished save for the wearers and the knots, Haldis held her hands over them and chanted softly, calling on the Forest to lend its power and to bear witness to this action, this fullfillment of its command. She chanted the secret words that the Galdorwyf who had taught her had said never to use unless the Forest said needs must.
And when all was dark, the fire dimmed, the singing drifted into soft hummed lullabyes and even the least inclined to sleep at rest: Haldis knotted one around her right wrist and spoke the almost-last word; the word
of keeping, of caring,
of learning, of teaching,
of duty, of kinship,
the word of the binder -
and then the spell was half complete.

Still un-noticable, on lightened feet, she crept to the side of the one whose hair she had woven with hers and taking care not to touch skin, knotted the second bracelet around the right wrist; speaking as she pulled the knot tight, the last word: the word
of kept, of cared for
of student, of teacher,
of dutiful, of child,
the word of the bound -
and then the spell was done.

Haldis went back to her bedroll, exhausted, but did not sleep. She needed to formulate the words to explain this rightly. To her, the connection was almost palpable, an invisible line between them. She gave the bracelet an experimental tug that would have broken mere hair. It did not give. Haldis wondered again at the Forest's reasoning, and sighed, sliding back into the pondering of future words.
Tabrîl was going to be very upset when she woke up.

[Mari]

Ellysa had, after eating some food, gone out of the circle and a little away from the group to practice with her bo. She wasn't entirely satisfied with her performance, but she was getting back into the routine again quickly.

When she got back she looked the group over once more.
Even within this curious group there are many loners. I wonder if it is because they don't like company or because they just don't have it?

Ellysa decided to try and talk to Ferrin. She went over to him and greeted him with the, to her, common gestures.
"Good evening. Would you mind if I sat next to you?"

[Curufin]

Abasi settled onto his blanket on the grass, also keeping his distance from the rest of the group, closer; and yet not too close, to Tabrîl. He watched with suspicious interest as Haldis chanted her spell - Abasi knew of magic, although he knew none of it. That was not for m'haid to know.

Was this uwindi then a seth'in of sorts, one of the wise? He watched her closely, unsure of what she was doing, but feeling very uncomfortable as she approached Tabrîl and did...something.

He looked at her questioningly, suddenly unsure of where he stood in relation to her. Uwindi m'haid would have been easy to deal with, but never before had he come into contact with an uwindi seth'in. She did not, of course, merit the respect that a windon seth'in would merit. But perhaps she deserved some? She was, in a sense, a holder of mysteries, even if those mysteries were not his. Perhaps she was even an uwindi in'kasha? He reddened a bit, feeling the inappropriateness of her presence, even if she did not. Those who held the mysteries should not be so publically displayed; should not be put in danger in such a way. That was for the m'haid. He continued watching as she did as she would with Tabrîi, becoming more uncomfortable at every moment.

Finally, standing, he crossed to her, sitting cross-legged before her. He needed to know what she had done, and feeling a bit unsure, he decided to offer her the courtesy - for now - that he would offer to a seth'in of his own kind.

'May the m'haid ask permission to ask?' He asked Haldis, his hands crossed behind his back in deference - not that he could not get to his weapons very quickly if the need arose.

[feawen]

As the others settled down to sleep so did Nami. But her rest was intrupted by images of death in the dark. Tossing in her sleep, restless and angry with her own fears, she lay on her back and heeded nothing but the slow progress of the stars.

[Coffeehouse]

Feeling the tiredness creeping through his body, Quickleaf layed back, singing fainter

"The night's here, she sleeps by the tree
The rains falling, raindrop by raindrop
it comes gently down
I'm bound to her, and I'll never be free

Come o'er to me, come here tonight
Come closer now,
Don't refuse
Let me free of this darkness with your light

You awoke me by the river's edge
The moon glowing, shining on your eyes
The reflection of you
Filled up my soul, gave me life again

Nightfall is here, it's settling down
And I sense her face, her shape
Darkness covering my eyes
but in my heart I can see"

Until Quickleaf had fallen into a deep sleep.