©2024 Sharon Darby
Published on stormrise.com on January 5, 2005
Part 2

That was the last straw. How dare that priss offer such a thing! Rational thought vanished in a burst of temper. Thistle smacked the lump from the Clay's outstretched arms and grabbed the boy up by the throat.

**Listen carefully, twit! I will not tolerate your foolishness any longer. Do you understand me?** Thistle hissed in a locksend, mindvoice laced with venom and accented by rough shakes. With a final roar, the enraged elf hurled his victim into the river.

Clay was instantly hurt when his half-formed jar was knocked from his grasp, but nothing compared to what happened next. Jade eyes widened in shock as Thistle's thick hands lifted him up. The send pierced his heart and shattered the unwavering trust he had in his older sibling. His mind went numb. He barely registered the sensation of flying through the air.

*SPLASH* The water broke his fall. The impact jolted the cub back to reality. He flailed for a few moments, unable to touch the bottom. Finally, he found his footing and pulled himself from the clutch of the Lifegiver. Shivering slightly as the night breeze played across his soaking flesh, Clay curled up in a tight ball on the bank and wept.

Thistle turned on his heel and stormed off as soon as he had completed the throw. He noted the sound of the small body hitting the water with grim satisfaction. He had found his means of retribution. A good dunking every now and then should put that pest in his place.

His steps slowed, and then paused completely as the image of Clay's expression played before his eyes. For a brief moment, he felt an inexplicable loss as he realized what he may have destroyed. He shook his head. No! He did not, could not care about such things! He punched the nearest tree and winced as the unforgiving bark tore his knuckles.

Several members of the tribe were witnesses to this display. Over the years, Thistle's volatile nature had become well known. In time, this trait turned Thistle into Redsky.

* * *

Redsky laughed unkindly as he observed the results of his most recent prank. Oh, he would never tire of this game! "Hey cub!" he called to his half-brother once the silver head cleared the surface. "Since you seem so enamored with the Lifegiver, why don't you change your name to River?" His amber gaze was alight with malicious mirth.

As usual, the older elf turned his back before Clay had a chance to recover from his impromptu swim. Not that he was afraid of that scrawny wimp trying to pull a counter-attack! Ha! Now that was funny. No, the truth of the matter was that, if he stuck around, he'd have to face the cub's silent suffering. And, if he wasn't careful, there was a small, secretly buried part of him that would ache at the sight.

Clay continued to stare at his distorted image. A single tear fell, lost among the droplets of river water that still streamed down his face. He smiled sadly at himself as he registered Redsky's mocking words. Aye, and why not? His claywork would always be second-rate compared to his sire's. Everyone knew him as the one who got dumped in the Lifegiver on a regular basis.

Names defined who you were. Rarely did one keep the same title from the cradle to the grave. Yet, was this the one he wanted to bear? Clay pushed himself backwards so that he floated on the surface of the water. His silver mane fanned around his head as jade eyes sought the comfort of the two moons amongst the treetops.

A quiet resolve formed in his heart. "Aye. For you, brother." The cub whispered into the night air. With an ease that came with forced practice, he righted himself and swam to the bank. Once he reached the shallows, he shook the excess water from his body before continuing to his den to grab a dry pair of breeches.

And so it was that the Lifegiver claimed the cub formerly known as Clay. The name was washed from him, leaving behind only a troubled young River.