"The Naming of Riddle"

Log Date:
	7/10/02

Log Cast:
	Wayfound, Tefin

Log Intro:
	A dire calamity has befallen the camp of humans and elves that for
many moons now has been settled on the beach of the Vastdeep Water: they 
have been attacked without warning by a pack of near-wolves, horribly 
altered and changed by the deliberate use of magic. Elves and humans both
have died as a result, and though the two elves with the sharpest intellects
in the entire camp--Wayfound of Lostholt and Tefin of the Go-Backs--have
endeavored to learn all they can from the captured body of one of the beasts,
they have not been able to identify the elf who must have shaped them.
	And so Vardeus, the leader of the humans from the distant land of
Vrae, has issued the order to move inland and set off on the long journey 
to the village of the tribe of the Olbar, from which hail Xhosa, Shelbor,
and Coralfire, all of whom have contributed their own aid to the stranded
Vraeyans. Anxious to honor the Olbar and their gods out of gratitude for the
assistance, Vardeus has taken up Xhosa on her invitation to come and visit
her people--a journey that, unfortunately, most of the elves who have been
in the camp cannot make, for the Olbar tribe is not known for being welcoming
to their kind. The elves of Briarholt have parted company with the humans;
so too has Shay'la, once of the Underworld and now more or less of the Raft
Elves. 
	But Wayfound and Tefin have continued to travel with the Tall Ones,
both of them fascinated by the unusual humans--and, as it happens, more and
more fascinated with each other as well, for neither has ever before 
conceived that there might be another elf of reasonable, rational bent in
the world. Tefin, more openly poetic than the gruff young Wolfrider, has 
even taken it upon himself to make a gesture of his appreciation to Wayfound 
of this bond between them. And one night, while the Vraeyans make their 
cautious way upriver past Blue Mountain and Wayfound is on watch, the 
Go-Back goes to do just that....

----------
Vraeyan Camp(#1655AJae)
This is a sizeable camp of approximately two dozen humans -- impossible to 
  miss from afar, regardless of one's race. There are simply too many of the 
  Tall Ones, and they are too noisy as well, to make stealth much of an 
  option. Obvious, too, are the impromptu shelters and cookfires they have 
  created for themselves in this camping place, and the smells of burned wood 
  and sod and cooked food, along with the general aroma of humankind, override 
  any subtler scents in the area. More astute observers, however, might note 
  that the camp is not occupied by humans alone -- for there are the scents of 
  elves here as well, and their smaller footprints intermingle with the bigger 
  ones of the humans on the ground in and around the campsite. For that 
  matter... perhaps most amazingly... the elves in the camp seem to be 
  dwelling here as equals to the Tall Ones, and not as prisoners.
Contents:
Shelbor's tent
Tefin
Coralfire's Tent(#1669AJe)
Yellow
Raven's Tent(#6222Je)

It's difficult for a camp full of nearly two dozen humans to be truly silent, 
  even when most of them have settled down for their night's slumbers. The 
  sounds of most of the Vraeyans tossing and turning in their sleep, snoring, 
  occasionally muttering -- and in the case of Dharce, sometimes sobbing 
  quietly -- can be heard playing a counterpoint to the slap of the river 
  water against the shore and the subtler noises of the night. Raven and 
  Wayfound, as the camp's Wolfriders, divide the night up between them for the 
  constant watches that Vardeus has urged of the camp at large -- and although 
  some of the humans have shifted themselves onto a night schedule to help the 
  elves, Wayfound does not seek out Iletya this night. She is within shouting 
  distance if trouble should arise, but truth be told... she can concentrate 
  on keeping watch better if the humans aren't distracting her.
And so Wayfound has claimed a tree for her lookout perch, more than once 
  casting a wary eye up at the shadow that is the shape of Blue Mountain 
  against the midnight sky... and thinking, pensively, each time she does.

It has been hard for Tefin to get used to this new sleeping schedule that the 
  camp has adjusted itself to. Sure, sleeping during the day made the movement 
  in the evening that much more comfortable and the journey that much safer, 
  but after several nights of stubbed toes and getting smacked in the face 
  with branches, he's finally started to see well enough to make his way 
  around without injury. 
It's been a few days since he'd had a nice conversation with Wayfound, and 
  although there is really nothing important to speak of, he does enjoy time 
  with the wise young elf. The trees here are a bit closer together, and it's 
  harder to pick out the particular tree she chose as a vantage point...

"Here, Tefin, if you're looking for me." Her voice drifts down from above, no 
  more than the most necessary of whispers. The Go-Back is more graceful in 
  the woods than the humans -- but still, Wayfound smells him coming, as a 
  breeze in off the river brings his scent up to her. To try to guide him, she 
  sends out a single twinkle of a sending, even as she adds softly, "Is all 
  well?"
A soft chuckle can be heard rising up from the forest floor as he follows your 
  voice and twinkle before starting to climb. "Of course I'm looking for you, 
  Wayfound." he says quietly as he moves as stealthily as he can up the trunk 
  of the tree toward where you perch, settling himself in the cradle formed by 
  several thick branches jutting from the same area on the tree, a place 
  almost to your level. "Aye, all is well." he says as he settles in, the 
  branches rustling a little. "The Vraeyans are sleeping as soundly as they 
  can, the ((wagons)) are in good repair, and the hunters have found adequate 
  game sources, so food will not be a problem."

"Good," is the maiden's reply, just a touch of satisfaction brightening her 
  otherwise solemn voice. She turns her head slightly to cast a glance back 
  towards the campsite, where temporary tents have been erected and where 
  Vardeus has had his people pull the ((wagons)) -- lashed to the rafts 
  they've made out of what was left of their ((ship))'s hull -- as much ashore 
  as they can be pulled. "The night has been undisturbed; I have seen no sign 
  of either monsters, or of the Gliders taking notice of us."

"That is good to hear. Vardeus has been pushing himself so hard lately, in an 
  effort to reach the camp, that a relaxing night of sleep will be most 
  beneficial to him." He glances back at the camp, then over at the mountain, 
  silohuetted against the star-strewn sky. "I'm curious to know what it's like 
  in there, but I'm afraid of what might happen if I get the courage to find 
  out."

"Vardeus, I am informed, is prone to pushing himself to his limits when he 
  thinks his people is in peril," Wayfound notes quietly. "But Tiana looks 
  after him." At her companion's further remark, she looks back around to 
  study him in the night's darkness, her ambergreen eyes gleaming faintly. 
  There is a pause, and then she says, very quietly indeed, "There is great 
  beauty within Blue Mountain, much finely shaped stone and wonders of which I 
  had not conceived when I was a cub. But..." Is that a tinge of disquiet, 
  perhaps even fear, disturbing the solemn calm of her voice? There is 
  certainly hesitation there, as she seems to struggle to find her words. 
  "I... remember a stark coldness of spirit, as well."

"As beautiful as Shay'la's gift, but as cold as a stone in winter..." he 
  murmurs quietly, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the needle of stone 
  nearby before turning his attention back to you. perhaps this experience is 
  one that can be adequately shared with second-hand tales, instead of 
  first-hand experience. "I spoke to one who said she was from that place, 
  some time ago. A glider on her travels. She expressed to me the same 
  sentiment that you just did...and I believe that I do not wish to experience 
  that place while it is such a soulless void."

"You might have a better time of it than I," Wayfound must admit, though this 
  is not uttered with much enthusiasm, "as you are without wolf-blood; those 
  within the Mountain who are of... contemptuous nature seem to have somewhat 
  more patience for outside elves who are not Wolfriders. However, that you 
  are without magic may also count against you." She pauses again, lets out an 
  uncomfortable breath, and looks skyward towards the black shadow of the peak 
  silhouetted against the higher branches and the stars. "In fairness I must 
  also report that several of the Gliders did bid my tribesmates a kind 
  welcome, but others did not, and it... was difficult to say how any Glider 
  we did not know would receive us."

"That could be true, aye.." Tefin offers with an almost imperceptible shrug. 
  "Fortunately, I do not feel a burning need to visit such a dark place when 
  others have done so before me and can share their experiences." Carefully he 
  sits up, standing on one of the branches below as to place himself a bit 
  closer to you, so that voices do not carry and...well...so that he's closer 
  to you. Perhaps a change of subject would be in order. "I have come to a 
  decision, Wayfound, and I thought that you would be interested in what it 
  is."

She blinks a little, just a little, but shows no sign of protest at the closer 
  proximity as the Go-Back climbs nearer to her within the tree. "Surely," 
  Wayfound answers, brows rising just a trifle, eyes widening, indicative of 
  her interest. So pleased is she to find another elf that thinks as she does 
  that the Wolfrider cannot help but be interested in any such pronouncement 
  from Tefin's mouth.

Tefin, the diminuitibe go-back, takes a short breath and begins. "Over the 
  past season, you and I have spent an inordinate amount of time with one 
  another; be it learning from the Vraenans, discussing life, the universe, 
  and everything in the camp before sleep, or simply sitting and spending 
  time, as we are doing now." A slight flush colors his cheeks which you may 
  be able to see in the moonlight. "I...I have become quite fond of you." And 
  still no mention of a decision...perhaps this is the preface.

Now the she-elf's attention has been thoroughly captured -- not that Wayfound 
  had not been listening, just that before this admission of Tefin's, she'd 
  also been diverting part of her senses to the necessary task of keeping 
  watch. However, now the priorities abruptly shift. His blush is indeed 
  visible to her Wolfrider's eyes, and in fact it calls up a bit of a 
  mirroring blush upon her own cheek. "I... must profess a similar opinion in 
  regards to you," she murmurs. Her smiles still do not come easily, but one 
  tries to flicker into being now, uncertain, shy. "I... I appear to lack 
  proper words to express my pleasure at having your acquaintance, these past 
  many eights of days."

He is silent for a time, worrying his lower lip thoughtfully as he tries to 
  work out what exactly to say next. "I...I tried to plan this...what I'm 
  saying now...to be more eloquent and to have somewhat of a flow..." the best 
  laid plans of mice and elves apparently don't hold up in the face of 
  emotion, but still he stumbles on. "It is a practice with my tribe...when 
  you discover someone who you have a great...affection for, to give them a 
  short name, a nickname, that only you and that person would know." He grips 
  the branch he's holding on to a little nervously. "the most difficult part 
  of that practice is coming up with a short nickname suitable for that 
  person, and after much thought, I've decided to give you one...I just hope 
  it fits."

The awkwardness, the uncertainty of phrasing for one for whom words generally 
  come far more comfortably; Wayfound is not at all unfamiliar with the 
  problem. And so she waits with profound patience, even as what Tefin tells 
  her brings a deeper flush to her cheeks and noticeable startlement to her 
  eyes. "I... see," she blurts tinily. "I am honored, Tefin, th-that you have 
  reached such a conclusion about me...!"

"No...wayfound...the honor is mine." He says quietly, resting one hand on your 
  knee lightly, as if to reinforce to himself what he is saying. "When I first 
  arrived here, I met you and found an elf who thought and experienced the 
  world as I did. Who understood that events happen for reasons that can be 
  distilled from stories and conjecture from others." he falls silent for a 
  time, giving your knee a gentle squeeze before looking up at you. "I have 
  decided to call you my Riddle, Wayfound. Ever since I have met you, I have 
  tried to discern the answer to who you are and why you are as I am. But all 
  I find are more questions. Riddle seemed to fit you."

"I..." Wayfound pulls in a bit of a shuddering breath, her normal stoic 
  composure giving noticeable way beneath the emotions roiling up within her 
  now... but it does not appear to be a sound of distress. It is certainly not 
  distress that makes that uncertain smile of hers wobble its way into greater 
  size, while her eyes grow liquid and her hand comes with a motion entirely 
  unhesitant to cover that of her companion's. "If it is your intent to t-tell 
  me," she stammers, "that you find me stimulating to continuous activity of 
  thought... I am doubly gratified...!" And a choked little laugh, an actual 
  laugh despite the rusty sound of it, escapes her. "I-I-I can think of... 
  nothing that I would find a greater compliment...!"

There are emotions in that lithe frame of hers, it seems, and one of Tefin's 
  generous smiles drifts across his features. "That is my intent, my beautiful 
  Riddle. You must promise me something, however...you must promise to never 
  censor yourself around me. If you feel the need to say something, 
  please...say it. Tell me I'm wrong. Show me a different way....two minds 
  always are better than one."

There _are_ emotions there; it simply seems that Wayfound is far too 
  accustomed to looking them away. But the request of freely given speech... 
  that is enough to break past her inner walls, making part of her leap up in 
  joy while another part shudders, for this exact request was last made to her 
  by someone very dear. She begins to blink rapidly, while her eyes grow more 
  liquid still. Even as she croaks out readily, "I-I-I pledge it, with all my 
  soul," she begins to weep.

"Beautiful, beautiful Riddle.." Tefin whispers, brushing the tears from her 
  cheek with gentle fingertips, wishing he could give her a tight hug but not 
  trusting his balance enough to try it. These tears...yet another riddle on 
  top of all of the others. "I thank you, with all that I have, Riddle. But 
  why do you cry?"

Wayfound has never liked crying; it clogs up her throat and nose, and for the 
  life of her she has not been able to discern why emotional stress provokes 
  such an obviously _physical_ reaction. The mystery has always vexed her, and 
  that almost as much as the actual emotional cause of the crying makes her 
  face crinkle up in consternation. But she also holds herself very still, 
  allowing just enough tilt to her head to put her cheek into better reach of 
  the smaller elf's fingers. "The... last elf who said that to me... who... 
  who asked me to talk to him about anything at any time... h-he was my 
  lovemate, and, and I... haven't seen him, since we w-w-were separated 
  leaving Lostholt--" She cuts herself off then, frustratedly rubbing a hand 
  across her eyes. And in a voice entirely unlike her usual measured tones, a 
  voice of profound plaintive aggravation, she adds, "I hate crying."

He offers her a clean (somewhat) cloth pulled from the recesses of his waist 
  pouch to clean her face off with. "I'll make you a deal, then, Wayfound. If 
  we ever become separated and you wish to find me again, I will be right 
  here, at the base of this tree, at the beginning of each season. No matter 
  where I am...I'll come here so you can find me." He chuckles softly at that 
  final admission, the plaintive cub that she rarely was growing up making a 
  brief appearance. "Also, if you wish it...emotions are welcome at my fire as 
  well."

She looks up at that, blinking tear-wet eyes; they're generally lambent in the 
  moonlight anyway, those wolf's eyes of hers, but with her tears spilling 
  forth from within them they take on an added layer of depth... and an added 
  layer of light. "I accept your bargain," she rasps, once again trying for a 
  smile, though it's a wan effort. "And... I... forgive me, Tefin, I-I-I have 
  grown unused to expressing such things...!"

Tefin lightly daubs the tears from her cheeks with his cloth, hrm-ing softly 
  to himself. "That is perfectly allright, my Riddle, you have been away from 
  others for ten turns...emotions tend to be unnecessary when one is alone. It 
  is not a requirement...simply an offer to...let your guard down, if you 
  wish." He smiles and trusts himself enough to lean in and give you a gentle 
  hug before regaining his balance.
Tefin says "I want you to feel safe."

It's a good tree, a sturdy tree, and it can easily bear the weight of a couple 
  of small elves -- even when one of them leans over to try to hug the other, 
  and when the other feels compelled to return the hug herself. Wayfound loops 
  a slender arm about Tefin's neck for a moment, squeezing gently, then bobs 
  her head. "You sound like Arnos," she mumbles then. "He is forever 
  attempting to get me to sing with him. Or dance."

Singing and dancing later, perhaps, but at this point, Tefin's expectations of 
  the relationship between himself and Wayfound are totally blown away. 
  Another small blush colors his cheeks as she draps an arm around his neck 
  and returns that hug...he can't help it. "Is that such a bad thing? To lose 
  your inhibitions and to just play and sing and dance?"
And it's not that he's afraid of the tree breaking, he's afraid of losing his 
  footing.

"There is a pleasure in it," Wayfound admits, pulling back a bit now, 
  sniffling and again scrubbing a hand across her dampened eyes. A ghost of a 
  smile still lingers about one corner of her mouth as she continues, too, 
  "I-I-I had not really... _truly_ realized, till I saw the Vraeyans and how 
  they make their music. They are very loud, you know, and their voices are 
  rather deeper than ours... but they h-have a wondrous sense of rhythm and of 
  harmony, and they sing together often...!" Ah, she's babbling now, and aware 
  of it, shy consciousness of her words growing scattered palpable in her 
  expression... but then, Tefin *had* invited her to lower her guard. And it 
  might be concluded now that she doesn't quite know what to do when her guard 
  is down.

A laugh bubbles up from deep within Tefin at that, shaking his sides and 
  blurring his vision at the stream of words coming from her. "perhaps when 
  they reach their destination, we will dance with them?" He asks with a 
  visible twinkle in his eye and a quirk of a smile. Suddenly, the smile 
  mellows and he asks, simply, "How do you feel, Riddle?"

This takes her aback... but she meets Tefin's eyes again, though she still 
  blushes a trifle with a hint of wonder at this new name that has been gifted 
  her. For all that the Wolfrider maiden's facility for communication has been 
  challenged tonight, her answer to that succint query comes without a 
  moment's hesitation. Moreover, it comes with the easiest smile she has 
  offered yet, and a continued steadiness of that nascent light within her 
  eyes.
"Safe, Tefin... I feel safe."

[End log.]