Idlewild -- Logs

Steven says, "Last one, I promise. I'm not even hoping for a cute monkette, honest. Seriously, no strays. But... how are we going to handle Seodil?""

Aiden scowls. "I've had just about enough of his attitude. We let him lead for now but the slightest hint of betray and I will take him behind the nearest rock."

Steven says, "No arguments from me about that. I find his lack of respect for life disturbing."

Aiden nods at Steven. "Let's pack up camp and get going then. The day is wasting."

Sol nods and says, "Now I shall find pants." He suits word to deed and disappears into the tent.

Steven nods, "Right. Let me gather some supplies, food and the like. While I'm doing that, maybe find out from Seodil which direction to go in?"

Aiden nods at Steven. "I'll work on taking down the tent."

Willow helpfully starts packing everything he can reach.

Aiden goes over and pulls everything that's still in the tent out and starts packing it down.

There isn't much that's edible in the camp besides about twenty pounds of roast deer that Willow apparently kept cooking in batches while everyone was away. Everyone manages to scrounge a pack and clothes, though. Willow is dressed in Aiden's Grey-world pants and shirt, and Seodil sulks and sneers off to the side with his hands tied by a length of rope.

Aiden secures the tent to his backpack as best as he can with the straps on the side. He looks over at Seodil. "Stop sulking. I don't like having to traipse off through the woods with you anymore than you do with me, but you don't see me moaning and making faces."

Steven carefully packs the cooked meat, hoping that it will keep for at least until they can get additional supplies elsewhere on their journey. He takes Aiden's advice gratefully as to how to properly prepare meat for travel. As he finishes packing up the meat, he asks, "Aiden... did you want to go back to the cavern, to see if we can find your sword?"

Seodil says with a blatantly false smile to Aiden, "I don't see you moaning yet, but now that I'm travelling with you and yonder slut I'm sure I'll get the chance."

Aiden chuckles and turns his hip. "Otter found it for me, thanks." He looks around for Lotte or Lua's backpacks.. "I think we should use our guide for all he's worth."

Aiden smirks at Seodil. "He's not my type, but you are, so I'd watch my ass if I was you."

Seodil opens his mouth to snipe back, but closes it abruptly as his gaze slips to his former wolfskin cloak, hanging from Aiden's shoulders. The silver-haired captive looks at the ground instead.

Steven smiles, "Oh, good! I'm glad for that." He nods. "I agree. It'll keep him from running away too fast if he tries to make a break for it." It takes him a brief moment for him to realize whom the elf is talking about, and he stifles his sense of irritation. Willow will grow up into his own person, he thinks. It might not happen anytime soon, but, Lord Pelor, help me to show Willow a path that does not involve the Lady of Pain!

Aiden brings both Lua and Lotte's backpacks to where Seodil is, "Steven, want to untie him and get these on him while I make sure he doesn't go anywhere? We'll tie him back up once they're on."

Seodil gives Aiden a poisonous look.

He holds out his bound hands meekly to Steven, however.

Steven nods to Aiden. "Right." He takes up the backpacks. "Come on, now," he says, untying Seodil, "big elf like you will hardly feel their weight. And since we're missing a couple of group members as it is...." He briefly wonders if he shouldn't have suggested some heavy stones be added to the packs. That way Seodil wouldn't be able to swim away, either. Or at least, swim far before sinking further.

Seodil's meek pose explodes into an escape attempt, but not quickly enough to evade his watchdogs.

Steven feels a flash of irritation -- Should have expected that, Student! he hears his old master chiding him -- as he draws back and launches a strike at Seodil. It manages to clip the big elf, though nothing nearly as good as he was taught.

Aiden snarls and follows up Steven's "lesson" with a slightly more punctuated one. He punches Seodil. "That was not wise."

Seodil shows no expression beyond a snarl at Steven's blow, but winces visibly at Aiden's punch. Firmly restrained again, he says only, with less malice than usual, "You would have done the same." This time he permits the handling and the packs.

Willow stands aside finishing up the camp breakdown, with wide eyes.

Steven makes a quiet sound as he adjusts the packs to a reasonably comfortable fit. "Maybe. But I think you would have done worse to us."

Aiden ties Seodil's hands together right after the packs are on. "Yes. I would have."

Sol watches, dressed and shrugging on his own burden. He is quiet. It's Seodil who says, "I know. In other circumstances, we might have hunted together. Do we go now?"

Aiden looks around to make sure that they haven't missed anything, then nods at Seodil. "Lay on, MacDuff.."

The tall elf starts walking away from the camp, into the forest.

Aiden follows Seodil closely, his eyes watching the forest as well as much as he can.

Steven nods, shouldering his own pack after making a once-over of the encampment. He closes his eyes briefly. Lord Pelor, let Your light show us the way that we might find our friends. Let Your light guard us and protect us. He opens his eyes, and begins walking. Let Your light warm us in the lands of Winter.

Hours pass and the terrain grows wilder as Seodil leads the group onward. Evening long since became full night as the group travelled, and the events of recent days and lost sleep would make sleeping soon a fond prospect, were the situation not so urgent. The woods are eerily silent for the most part, as though something has frightened the wildlife into quiet.

Aiden grows more wary the further in they go. This wood worries him, for some reason he can't express.. Maybe it's the disturbing quiet.

Steven is not liking this; he knows that the woods should be more alive. That his mediations recently on why he felt a vague disquiet when he and Aiden first struck down Seodil, reveal only that it wasn't his fault that he felt such, but that it was rather a warning unease, does not make him feel any better. He can only imagine how Willow is feeling. Taking a few calming, centering breaths, he looks to the blue-haired boy. "Let me teach you one of the first things my master taught me, Willow," he says quietly, and in as calming and comforting a tone as he can. 'Just some simple breathing exercises, which you can do as we walk." One part of him, however, is alert for whatever is spooking the woods' natural residents.

Aiden is also disquieted by Seodil's very presence. He's irked by his captive, even though he's not being sullen anymore. I just want an excuse to hit him again.. make him yield..

Aiden suddenly stops walking. He sits down on the nearest tree stump and puts his head down. "Give me a minute.. I'm not feeling well. Walk slowly, I'll catch up." Damn it, this is not like me. He hasn't done anything to merit this anger.. Why the hell am I being so unfair to him.

Steven gives Aiden an worried look, then nods quietly, and continues walking forward, though at a somewhat slower pace.

Soleil hesitates, and drops back with Aiden. He murmurs, "Do you want company?"

Aiden lifts his head and looks at Sol. "As long as you don't care if I bite when I'm angry. I'm feeling a little feral since my first transformation with the cloak."

Willow stays by Steven's side, listening to the monk's advice and trying to do the breathing exercises as directed.

Sol's eyes widen in the gloom, sparking amber despite the cool blue tones of the night. "Really," he says carefully. "What exactly do you mean?"

Aiden laughs a little roughly, "Like a dog being challenged for leadership of the pack when I'm around Seodil.. and like a bloodthirsty wolf in battle. I'm not normally like this.."

Seodil says conversationally to Steven, "This would be faster if I had my cloak back, you know."

Steven talks with Willow about the exercises, for the time being leaving alone the topic of their respective deities. One of the things he learned from his master was the importance of self-worth and self-respect, and while that went hand-in-hand with his veneration of Pelor, Steven won't press that on Willow; that has to be the boy's decision.

Willow listens intently, nodding.

Steven replies, equally conversationally, "It might, yes, but at the same time, it'd let us get killed faster, I'm thinkiing. The slow pace is well enough. Enjoy the walk! Unless you know why everything is so silent and still, hunter."

Soleil looks steadily at Aiden. "No, you're not normally like that. How often have you used the cloak to change, Aiden? And how much did you like it?"

Aiden frowns, "Just twice. I felt alive when I changed. Everything was more real.."

Captive Seodil answers Steven with a shake of his bound wrists, "You seem to be on top of the situation, as they say in your home. You could keep me leashed... speed would benefit you more than it would me, you see. My cloak would let me feel where the rest of the pack is, and lead us directly to them-- without it, I can only take us to the closest place I know they will go to once they have the girl."

Steven says, "That will do well enough for the time being, Seodil." He files that away to tell Aiden later, however; if Seodil can 'sense' that, then perhaps Aiden can as well. "We'll work our way up from there."

Sol frowns back at Aiden, and leans closer to inhale deeply. He hesitates before saying. "You're starting to smell more like one of us... one of the pack. I think you may have some of the blood of Winter in you after all."

Aiden nods. He stands up. "We should probably make sure they don't get too far ahead of us.."

Steven asks, simply and without any forced casualness, "You said, 'as they say in your home.' Have you been to the Grey Lands yourself?"

Soleil reaches to touch Aiden's hand and does not let him move away yet. He says, "I'm not sure how I feel about this, and I think you need to know that now. I'd like you to be able to join us, to be like us... but it may not be the best thing for you. If you're acting abnormal..." he shakes his head and releases Aiden's hand again. "Do what you need to, to stay Aiden. That cloak is not for everyone."

Aiden nods and half-smiles at Sol. "Thanks, Sol. I won't lose me."

Sol nods but does not smile. As he starts to move off, he adds quietly, "I may not say the same later. As much as I want what's best for you... you don't know how lonely it's been."

Seodil answers Steven, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have." He smiles and pauses for effect. "We have been known to hunt there, now and then."

Steven doesn't rise to the bait. "Really? Huh, that's interesting. You don't know about a place called Roswell, do you...?"

Seodil frowns. "I do not, no."

Aiden turns and gives Sol a sympathetic look. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I can't tell you what I'll do, but I'm sorely tempted.." he trails off and looks at the cloak where it is laying on his shoulder..

Steven says, "Oh. Well, so much for that theory. Out of curiosity, what did you think of it? The Grey Lands, that is."

Clearly displeased at admitting ignorance, Seodil snaps quickly, "The smells are flat and strange, and much is tainted with the Death Metal. The magic is twisted and weak... but at the right time of month or year, it matches our home more closely, and we take our sport with the lost and unlucky. Your kind run well, and there's something about the taste that is unique."

The captive elf continues, almost as if he did not mean to, "There has always been traffic between the worlds... now and then an alien beauty captures a warrior's heart, or a singer pleases us, and we reward them. We are not savages."

Steven continues to refuse to rise to the offer for verbal duello. "Flat and strange... yeah, I think I can see what you mean. There's a lot that's wierd over there. And, gosh... now that I think about it, I haven't felt this, well, close to Lord Pelor since I have after coming here. If I ever go back to the Grey Lands, I hope that doesn't go away...." His voice trails off. "If I ever go back?" If? What the heck are you thinking, Steven? He shakes his head as if to clear it. "Oh, I wasn't implying you were. Can you tell some of the stories of those ones?"

Sol looks at Aiden, follows his glance toward the cloak, and shivers, barely perceptibly. It is unclear whether it's unease or desire.

Steven considers Seodil's words... and more than that, Seodil's tone. It figures the hunter would really not like the Grey Lands, even moreso with all the cold iron in abundance there. But, something more than that... Seodil has some feelings for... something, or some things, that are in the Grey Lands. He can't tell what, or even whom... but it adds a little something more to the elf's character, something Steven is oddly glad to see. Despite Seodil being a cold, ruthless -- nay, not cold, he enjoys the thrill of the hunt, the kill. Despite that... maybe there is something of warmth in the elf of Winter. He wonders what Seodil's reaction to his question is going to be.

The bound silver elf falls into almost a musical cadence as he speaks; he begins to tell the story of a human minstrel who wandered across the border between the world one night and found himself at the Winter Palace. When the Queen at that time challenged him to give them a reason he should live, he smiled and began to play the instrument he'd brought with him, and the entire Court began to dance, until even the Queen smiled and ordered the boy brought jewels, and rich foods, and kept for a time... While he tells the tale, Seodil's surly attitude is put temporarily on hold, and he proves a more than decent spinner of stories.

Soleil speaks up, tone amused. "What he's leaving out is that the Court had no choice but to dance while that man played-- the Queen rewarded him richly in order to get him to agree to stop, let the Court free, and go back home."

Aiden laughs at that.

Steven arches an eyebrow. "Really? Some kind of magic, then? I'm glad to hear that, actually. That there's still some magic in the Grey lands."

Seodil snorts and stops telling the last bits of the tale. He says haughtily, "You were not there, sapling." He looks sourly to Steven and says, "Oh, yes. It's just different, not nonexistant."

The captive says, "You breed like rats, so I suppose the blood is thinner, but when you get a magician it seems to flow strongly enough to make up for the pale and faded rest."

Sol tilts his golden head and says, "At least they have a birthrate."

Aiden lags quietly in the back. He's listening to the conversation, but putting as much of his concentration on watching the woods as anything.

Steven says pleasantly, hiding his disappointment at missing the rest of the tale, "I guess I am glad that there's some still to be found. My master would tell me to always look to the 'quiet things' when wondering if magic existed." He rolls his eyes a little. "Rats? Come on.... yeah, there's a population problem, and maybe six billion is a bit much for any world to handle, but I'm sure the rat population outnumbers us. The roach population certainly does--" He breaks off, and blinks to Sol. (Parenthetically not noting what kind of job six billion humans would do to however many tens of millions of elves there might be in this world.) A lot of things are starting to fall into place for him, both what Sol and Seodil have been saying.

Aiden looks up. "Six billion now? Wow. I've been out of touch. Guess I've just been focused too much on wild swift fox populations and generally ignoring the crush of humanity."

Soleil says quietly, not without a smile, "It's much less crushing, here. More space to breathe."

Steven deadpans, "You haven't missed much. You'd never be able to tell there are six billion just by hitchiking accross the midwest like I was, either.

Aiden gives Soleil a look out of the corner of his eye. "That's nice. I'm not sure about your foxes though. They're a little more.. er.. vocal than I'm used to. My foxes don't go telling tales." He chuckles.

Willow listens quietly, breathing carefully as Steven instructed.

Sol grins quietly.

Hours more pass quietly. As the sky begins to get lighter over the trees, Sol calls a rest stop. He says, "I'm going to change soon... if there's anything you need to ask me, ask me now. I don't have to sleep if you want to keep going, but we'll have to do something with my pack. Seodil can handle it."

Aiden looks over at Steven. "This might be a good time for us to stop and rest as well. I'll take first watch.."

Steven tries to rack his brain; that vague unease still hasn't let go of him, and he wants to find out soon what it means. He nods to Aiden. "Thanks, Aiden. Sol," he says, "ever since last night, I've had a distinctly disquiet feeling. I don't know what it means. I'll be meditating more on it but if there's anything you might be able to suggest it might arise from... and if it has something to do with the uter silence of these woods...."

Soleil shakes his head, frowning. "I'm sorry, Steven. I'll think on it, but... I can only suggest why the woods are quiet. The land knows us, here--" he looks at Seodil briefly-- "and there's a kind of magic associated with that. Either it's able to tell there is a problem with its keepers fighting amongst themselves, or the animals fear the Hunt and can tell when its members are walking among them."

Aiden nods. He walks over to Seodil. "Are you going to do something stupid if I take these packs off you so you can rest comfortably?"

Steven frowns slightly, and nods. "Thank you, Sol. I'll think on that." He glances over to Aiden and Seodil, then steps closer, tentatively.

Seodil smiles sweetly at Aiden. "Would you like me to?"

Aiden gives Seodil a flat look, "Frankly, yes."

Steven gently puts a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "Seodil," he says, "are you proud being a hunter for the King of Winter? Is it a high honor for you?"

Seodil's smile widens and he offers his bound hands politely to Aiden. "Alas, I find myself enjoying my captivity so much I feel very cooperative. Perhaps another time I can please you instead." He turns to Steven and says, "Of course."

Aiden unties Seodil's hands and helps him out of the backpacks. He ties him again immediately when the packs are off.

Seodil chuckles softly and smirks at Aiden during most of the process.

Steven nods. "Then I am asking you for your word, on your honor as a hunter for the King, that during this journey you will not attempt to harm us or flee from us. With the recognition that if you break this word, it will show us exactly how honorable the King's hunters are. And we're asking this of you simply because it'll make our lives and yours a lot easier if we're not constantly ready to clobber you into mush and you're not constantly wearing out brain-cells trying to pull one over on us."

Seodil smiles at Steven and says, "Oh, please don't think badly of me. I simply couldn't bear it."

Aiden looks over at Steven. "He won't listen to reason, Steven. I don't think he cares much for honour. Those that don't have it generally don't."

Sol says wearily, "I told you he should be killed." He makes no attempt to keep his voice down.

Aiden looks over at Sol. "He'll be lucky if he lives out this journey, Sol. His mouth will put him in his grave."

Steven shrugs. "It was worth a shot. And a chance to grant him some dignity. As you wish, Seodil." He goes over to Willow. "Get some rest, Willow," he says, settling down cross-legged to meditate. "You've had a long several days." He begins to focus his mind, taking a deep breath, trying to expel the irritation from his body and mind as if he were exhaling fumes.

Soleil says more softly, "He'd be happier that way, Aiden. I've never liked him, but I know he's trying to goad you into it. It would spare him the humiliation of losing to you."

Seodil glares at Soleil and then pointedly ignores him, staring off into the woods, or into empty space.

Aiden chuckles at Soleil. "He's already lost. That would explain the pouting earlier. Maybe we'll pike his head and take it back to the Winter King."

Steven lets his consciousness descend through the chakras, letting the ebb and flow of his body's chi follow his breathing as he lets Aiden and Sol discuss Seodil. Something about Aiden's vicious streak bothers him, it doesn't seem like the man, but he shelves that for the moment, instead letting the meditative, healing trance help him pick apart and consider the quandries facing them.

Sol doesn't chuckle back; he sighs. Softer yet, he says, "He'd kill me for it if he could, but I almost feel sorry for him. I don't think he has a way out." He shrugs, then, and begins to undress for the dawn. "I'll take second watch-- I can bark to wake you if need be."

Aiden nods at Sol. "I'll keep your pack for now.. Just leave it with me."

Beside Steven, Willow does his best to emulate the monk.

Sol nods, and smiles briefly, reaching to touch Aiden's shoulder lightly in thanks before standing and stepping out of his leather pants.

Aiden looks away, but not before he sneaks a, hopefully, steathly peek.

Steven finds the little bits of throught that appear in his mind through the day and night and drift off into their own orbits coming once again into neat order. But the uneasiness remains, and he still feels a twitch -- perhaps an odd one -- at Aiden's words. Willow is doing well, he decides; he'd have made an exemplary student. And yet, Steven knows that part of that is the abusive, unyielding regimen that the priests of Loviatar imposed upon him -- obedience, strict and immediate, instant and unhesitating, ruled his life. If Steven is not careful, he will have simply substituted one object of adoration for another. He does his best to remember how his master had taken a gawky, scared orphan and helped him to mould himself into a self-assured, self-realized person.

Aiden's glance shows him that 1) Sol has very nice legs-- and etcetera--, 2) Sol is indeed male and very similar to humans in that regard, and 3) elves apparently do not have pubic hair.

The golden elf stretches as he stands, lean body reaching toward the sky, and then the moment hits him and he melts with the thin fingers of dawn. Soleil the gold-touched wolf lies down beside Aiden and tucks his nose under his bushy tail.

Aiden blinks at Sol. "Wolf? You're supposed to be a greyhound.."

Soleil raises his gilded head to meet Aiden's eyes, yawning... and gets quickly to his feet again, ears perked. He looks himself over, stretches, shakes, and fairly dances in place, grinning.

Willow is wide-eyed but silent. Seodil's breath hisses in between his teeth, sharply.

Aiden laughs, "I gather that's a good sign, eh?"

A golden wolf bounds into Aiden's lap and starts licking his face, wriggling. It would seem so.

Aiden grins at the wolf. He looks over at Seodil, raising an eyebrow..

Steven peeks open an eye, then closes it -- then opens both eyes, blinking, jarred from the meditative trance. "Uhm.... I know I missed something here....," he murmurs.

Seodil, for the first time, looks shaken. He looks away and does not meet Aiden's eyes.

Aiden says, "What has you so shaken, Seodil?"

Still not meeting Aiden's gaze, the purebred elf says in an odd tone, "The child is not defective."

Aiden says, "What does that mean?"

Steven blinks, looking at Seodil. "Because Sol can... assume a wolf form," he says softly. "That's a mark of Winter nobility. And this proves that Sol's blood runs true, then. As does Lua's."

Aiden nods at Steven.. "That's what I was thinking. I'm wondering about the implications of that.."

Seodil answers easily, if as one in a daze. "The priest is very close. We undergo a ritual to find our skins at a certain age. More of us find them and can change than can... mesh with the Hunt. Only members of the Hunt can rule. The King... when his sister was killed, he ordered that her children take the test, and they could not control the change, were only hounds and did not follow the current form of the Hunt. He said they would always be hounds, and could not rule... that they fled in shame."

Aiden ruffles Sol's neck. "Get some sleep, if you're not too excited. I'm pleased for you."

Sol the wolf nuzzles Aiden (coldwetnose!) and grins, then stalks over to look at Seodil. The older elf almost cringes, and the wolf turns to go back and flop down beside Aiden, radiating content.

Steven nods slowly, a little surprised at being called a 'priest.' "The truth, as they say, is probably a bit more complex...."

Seodil says in broken tones, almost sounding horrified, "I... was not there. We took his word."

The tall silver elf wraps his arms around his knees and stares out into the empty space between the trees.

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Last modified: 2001-Jun-12 14:20:21

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