"I have to track him down? He ran off, did he.” Thistle placed his hand in his head and shook it with a smirk. "One acorn and everything gets upturned."
StarSinger held back a snicker. One acorn was right... She smiled. **I will help you though. I would not like you to lose your son over an acorn.** She allowed herself a small smirk. **Come... he went into the trees over here.**
Thistle looked at the Chieftess of the weak holt. He chuckled to himself. She seemed strong of presence, and she was a bit attractive, even. Perish that thought, Thistle, you have just been too long without a furmate, he thought. He turned to her. "Do you know that my son recognized Neardark?"
StarSinger's smile remained on her face. **Of course I know. NearDark is of my tribe. There is little I do not know of what goes on in my tribe. NearDark is out with another of your members, I dare say, and your son... he is with someone whom I don't really know.** StarSinger remembered the elfess that little TreeShadow had injured... the faint impressions she was getting reminded her of that one, but she wasn't sure. **Why have you come back?** She asked, in an attempt to pass the time.
" I have not come back. I have been watching over my tribe for 6 eights of turns or so, trying to protect them from that which could destroy them. I followed them when I found them lurking in your territory, and I was seen. I never meant to return.” Thistle replied, a bit annoyed at the question. Better get used to it, he thought. They all will ask that.
StarSinger sighed. He had been seen and would not be allowed to leave again. Surely he knew that. **Thistle... I watched when you fought QuickSpear for the chief's lock. I was aware of you long before you were of me. But you've learned to open your senses as much as I have and surely you see the simple signs of a tribe dying.**
"Aye. Now that they have met your tribe, I can see that the two will become one. One tribe with two separate ideals. Your tribe trades with trolls and doesn't raid humans to keep them in fear. You heal wounds that are not threatening, and even throw your caution of the forest to the wind. Yes, I can see that my tribe is dying. I have been wandering long, and I am amazed that I survived this long. But I am strong. I closed off the world to them to save them anguish and more death. That protection is no more. I fear there will be more death now. I fear they will adopt your ways, and that will make them drop their guard and they will become weak.” Thistle spat at the ground. "I do not want to see that happen."
**You do not know your son as well as you think...** StarSinger sent calmly. **Or me. You are right... Sometimes I do heal that which is truly not in need of a healing. But my tribe is far from weak. You do not have to choose the hard path all the time. Your tribe needlessly allows themselves to be hurt and injured. You're 'protecting' them, only caused them to be weaker than they could have been. You now know the dangers of the forest, but they still know little about them. I on the other hand, know every stone there is in this forest, and my tribe knows how to defend against animals your tribe does not even know exist.** StarSinger had allowed herself to slip into calling QuickSpear's tribe his father's, but she did not care.
Thistle shook his head. " I'll give you that my son's tribe was weakened by isolating them, but it was much worse before that. My father, Bloodthorn, was destroying us by warring with both the trolls and the humans. After his death at the hands of the trolls, I ceased the warring and moved the tribe to a new location. I alone went out to raid them both, and when he became old enough, I took Quickspear out to raid the trollish hunting parties and taught him how to fight them. They are slow, those trolls. I would not take him to the human camp. Not only were they stronger and faster fighters than the trolls, but also to reach them, we would have had to cross allo territory, and I was not willing to risk his life that way. His mother was killed by one.” If they knew the whereabouts of either camp, they would have fallen into the old warring ways and that would have gotten them killed."
StarSinger frowned. She knew of allos but had never had to face one without BlackHarp, who's strong shield protected her. She heard very little sorrow in his voice when he spoke of QuickSpear's mother. Either he had trained himself well... or the love they had had didn't go beyond recognition. **Let's find your son.** She sent, as GentlePaw came slinking through the forest. The big cat growled at Thistle as she went past.
"Aye."
Thistle found himself beginning to like this Chieftess. She spoke from the heart, but she still traded with trolls. It was his opinion that the only good troll was a dead one. They were ruthless backstabbers. In his grandfather's time, the elves and the trolls had declared peace and gathered to celebrate on neutral ground. The trolls, after lulling the unwary elves into a false sense of security, attacked the elves, and over half of them were slain, mostly with swords sheathed. He had witnessed firsthand the tortures that the trolls put their captives through, for he himself was captured and enslaved for two cycles.
Thistle had only three toes on his left foot.
"I hope that you are aware that the trolls will turn on you one day. You should kill them," he spoke as they walked.
StarSinger turned her soft eyes onto the chief. **Kill them? This isn't the first time QuickSpear's attacked them since he learned of our existence. They have not gone yet...** She grinned as she thought of the many safety precautions she had to keep the trolls from betraying her. True, one wrong step might prove fatal,but so far nothing had gone seriously wrong.**They prosper from us and all the others they trade with. Riches mean everything to the trolls. They will not attack us as long as we can make them wealthy.**
"And when you cannot, they will kill you," he replied shortly. "I was a bit wrong about you, Chieftess. I hated you for the longest time. I saw you as weaklings. I had never met you. Now that I have, I do hold you with respect, but the idea of peace with trolls is a dangerous game that will end up in ruin. You cannot seriously expect them to keep up their good faith forever."
StarSinger allowed herself the slightest of chuckles. **Thistle,** she sent, **You say you have watched me. Surely you have realized that my soft heart does not surpass my intelligence. The trolls are thieves. They always try to steal back what they sold us. I know this. They leave thinking they succeeded... but we never have lost our goods. The day will come when I shall have to create my own caravan if I want to continue trade... and that day is drawing closer. I am not so blind as to not see that the trolls gather a few more warriors each time they pass through. The cavern trolls happily provide them... believing, as you did, that we are weak.**
"Heed my warning then. Kill them before they gather enough strength to kill your tribesmates."
Thistle found himself genuinely worried for her. Dung, he thought. Now I am going to watch over TWO tribes? Thistle, you are getting old and soft. He gazed into her eyes. They were pitch black, sinking infinitely through her. He quickly broke the gaze, irritated that he would think of her in such a way. She was the Chieftess of an idealistic tribe that would befriend trolls, knowing that they would certaily attack and probably kill those she was sworn to protect.
"Do what you will, it is your tribe. But know that the attack will come, and if your tribe is not ready, then lives will be lost foolishly."
StarSinger had met his eyes... and felt a longing she had forgotten. She sighed at his words and quickened the pace. Of course she knew the consequences that would befall if she didn't protect her tribe. She was going to tell him again that he was wrong, then she realized they were saying the same things.
She made a low growl in her throat before turning to him. **You said our tribes would unite... but you are more than wrong. QuickSpear will never unite with my tribe and you trained your previous members too well. They dislike the outside world and prefer to stay in their own holt. Besides, I would not have them. Blood-thirsty is what some of them are, going so long without a fight to settle their wolf-blood. Its part of who we are. Yes, even I know that. A fight is sometimes needed to keep the peace.** She grinned. **But QuickSpear will never join my tribe.**
"I should say not. The hunt released the bloodlust before, but now that they know that there is still threat from humans and trolls, I fear that Quickspear will not be able to control them. The old ways of war shall return, and life will be lost. I fear that I cannot prevent this. I tried for so long. I failed." Thistle spat again at the ground. He had to speak to his son. He had to warn him of this.
StarSinger could see the trouble in his eyes when she looked. She knew he loved his son, though it was difficult to see that at times.
**Failed?** She asked, as she stopped walking. **You did not fail. And QuickSpear will not fail either. He has yet to prove to his tribe just how strong he is... and NearDark will certainly keep the peace as much as possible. She shall be a good influence, despite your fears. Besides, QuickSpear will not risk his unborn cub to allow his tribe to satisfy their blood lust...**
StarSinger began to develop an idea. **You say I must destroy the trolls... but I have a truce with them. I would hate to break it. You on the other hand... you and your son's tribe would be happy to destroy them. And from what I saw earlier, will do a good job.** She put her hands on his shoulders as she turned him to look into her eyes. **Your tribe will be satisfyed, and there will be no deaths on your part. BlackHarp, my shielder, is strong enough to shield them all while they put an end to the sneaky trolls. What do you say?**
"Hmmm..." Thistle liked the idea. For a weakling, she was very practical. But he hadn't spied on the surface trolls in two turns, and the cracked Ice holt's numbers had diminished greatly. There were quite a few surface dwellers, and from what she said, there numbers grew continuously.
"I would spy on them first. But I like the idea." Thistle smiled at her, the first smile that had crossed his face in many turns.
It hurt.
StarSinger held back a laugh as she felt it would insult him. His smile looked more like a wince. **You accept an idea from me... It's a start** she sent as she brought a single finger up to his lip. **No more speaking. Your son is near... and I do believe he will not be happy to see us. Either one of us.** She wondered how anxious he was to speak to his son... surely it could wait she thought.
Thistle struggled to remember how to send, but the long unused power came back to him readily. **Been a long time. I should wait to speak with him. We parted on...bad terms.**
**Aye, I remember.** StarSinger sent. 'Bad terms' was the mild phrase. She sat down on the forest floor, taking a soft fur out of the pouch slung around GentlePaw's neck. **Might as well rest. There is little we can do for now, and we have both had a long day for us both.** She patted the sleek fur as she took off her cloak, revealing the sword that few people knew existed.
**Nice blade. You surprise me. I had always thought you were unarmed.** Thistle sat down next to her. They made a conflicting pair. Her looks were refined; her long black hair flowing in even, combed tresses clashing with Thistles dirty blonde unkempt and ratty mop that had long ago earned him his namesake, along with his often grating personality. **How long have you been Chieftess here?**
**I founded this holt... but I guess I wasn't really a chieftess until I got someone else to stay with me. I'd say 400 years sounds about right. I have difficulty keeping track of the seasons as they go by. The far away stars interest me more than the close one.** She smiled as she looked at his ragged face. **Do you know of your tribe's origins?** She asked. The tribe of Cracked Ice had been here before she could remember. Perhaps the story would have gotten passed down.
**400 turns? Must be handy being a healer. Cracked Ice started much longer ago than that. I am the blood of four chiefs, and Quickspear is blood of five. Our first chief, Frostwind, came from a frozen waste, the one that lies in... that direction, I believe,** Thistle pointed south. He had always believed that there was a land of plenty and warmth, and traveled long to roughly where we had originally settled. He did this not only to escape the White Cold that stayed for all seasons, but also to escape the trolls that lived in the area. He met an elf in the frozen mountains, a maiden called...umm...Jeira, whose tribe was slain by the trolls. He rescued her, and they found the path through the mountains that would eventually lead to the forest. There they started Cracked Ice, which was named after the land of green. They lived peacefully for many turns, thinking that they had escaped trolls forever. They were mistaken. Both were slain as the trolls had followed them somehow and raided the holt. It was their firstborn son, Stonehead, my grandfather, discovered the humans. He knew of the stories of the Palace, and began raiding them out of vengeance. He also discovered the troll's lair, and raided that as well. Oh the stories of my grandfather's battles are many. I think his bloodlust consumed him.**
StarSinger listened with interest. She enjoyed learning the beginnings of this wild holt... with its wild members. She tried to look up at the stars as he spoke of his grandfather, but they were hidden from her. Not only was it too light still, but the canopy was thick and wouldn't allow her to see anything. As the sun slowly set and they lay together, she began to wonder. Thistle didn't seem so cruel as she'd believed the old chief to be. Leaving his own son was something she had looked down upon, but as she realized the hierarchy of a tribe like that one, she knew it had been necessary. She turned on her side and looked into his eyes. **And what about you? What have you been doing? You were gone for many turns of the season. Surely your travels took you beyond this forest's borders.**
**Aye, that it did. I have been to the frozen mountains, to the Vastdeep Water, and to the Burning Waste.** Thistle pointed to the direction of each landmark. ** I have seen your trolls, and the tribe of superstitious humans not too far from here. For fun, and because I felt a bit reckless, I got into the habit of hunting dangerous game.** He bared his chest, showing Starsinger a nasty batch of scarring. **That was a bear. I took him by hand, but almost was killed.** Thistle beamed with pride.
StarSinger smiled. He seemed proud of his scars... but happily, prouder of how he'd gotten them. If she'd been there, he wouldn't have needed to keep the scars. But she had not been there, and he would not have let her heal him anyhow. His stubborn pride was enough to match hers. **You hunt dangerous game, eh? And what is your definition of dangerous?** She asked slyly.
Thistle raised an eyebrow to Starsinger. **How about...a longtooth. I have killed one with a knife, but never barehanded. But I think I could...with a distraction. If he is focused on prey or threat, he'll never even know I am coming. I would be willing to try an allo with a partner...but not you.**
Thistle was almost shocked by the flash of challenge that crossed her eyes when he sent of taking an allo. High Ones, she is just as crazy as I am, he thought. but will she hunt by my terms; by this world's terms?
**My way is the way of the world. Two feral spirits locked in a battle of wills. No magic, no bows, no blade bigger than a knife if the creature has a strong advantage. I wear each scar in honor of the opponent that put them there. In honor of the fight; the moment.
**With that in mind the most dangerous game would have to be...an elf, especially one close to you.**
Thistle looked at Starsinger with an cool but nonthreatening and sincere gaze. **Only one has bested me.**
StarSinger traced a finger down his rough jawline. **Only one, eh?** she asked. He was right about dangerous game. An elf was was more dangerous then any other animal. she believed that one elf against another was the worst thing that could happen, but it had happened, and maybe she could fix it... but she wasn't planning on being the prey this time.
**Aye, only one.** Thistle inhaled deeply. She had a soft touch, like a gentle breeze caressing his cheek. He was enjoying the company to the fullest, and was quite surprised by his interest in Chieftess Starsinger. In another time, they would have not been so amicable.
He wasn't sure, but there was a sly glimmer in her eye when she sent her reply. Surely she wasn't challenging him to a fray. But then again, maybe she was. This chieftess seemed to be full of surprises.
**You aren't suggesting what I think you are suggesting, are you?** Thistle sent.
StarSinger had prepared herself to answer, only to be interrupted by a cruel taunting voice. “Tsk Tsk, what traps you two weave around each other!” The voice was well known to StarSinger. It belonged to WickedDream… a cruel elfess who had entered their forest long ago.
**You would dare talk about traps, WickedDream** she locksent. She knew the elfess would be angry at StarSinger's use of her full name, but that was her intent. She turned to Thistle and smiled gently. **Ignore her** she sent. There was no need for them to be bothered by the elfess. But StarSinger feared Thistle wouldn't listen to her. He had his own mind... and she was sure interruptions were not something he put up with kindly, or by ignoring.
Suddenly, another elfess, WindChaser, interrupted the two and bowled over Dream. In her fury, the evil elfess took the spirit of WindChaser, causing the two to drop. StarSinger and Thistle had to part ways, for the Healer chieftess had an injured elfess to attend to.
