© 2002-2024 Evie and Heidi
Published on stormrise.com on July 22, 2002
Part 1

A lost cubling has returned, and the tribe has celebrated. However, such good news hasn't lightened the hearts of all the tribesmates...

Returning to her den, Pyre spent several hours mingling about, picking up articles and setting them back down. She was bored, and she knew it, but the dark skinned elfess wasn't prepared to face the members of Stormrise after her little outburst that she didn't realize wasn't so little at all. Finally, feeling rather restless, she picked up a sable haired brush and settled outside her small den. She unbound the mass of flaxen blond hair from the confining sash, and it fell in thick strands down her back. She ran the brush neatly through the mass, not because she needed it but because constant motions like these helped her to think better. Where was it she had lost her temper, what was nagging at her all these days. It couldn't be a simple matter of feeling outside of the other elves, because as Wildlight pointed out she sometimes wasn't so distant at all. In fact if she allowed herself more so to be, it might trigger some changes. So what was it that was bothering her so much that she snapped at people like a foaming wolf. A whisper from the forest caused her head to turn in that direction, like she was being beckoned. There was something that still set her apart from the rest of the elves in Stormrise. Something that most figured the young cub Quill had left the holt to discover. Her soulname. Pyre really wasn't sure what exactly a soulname was, but she knew it was important to the wolfriders. Her mother's people didn't have one, so Yelena never thought to encourage her cubling to search for one. And maybe her case was one of, you can't miss what you don't know you should have. But now she did. And now she missed it. Coming to a descision, she sent out to the chief, respecting that to dissappear at such a time would not be wise. **Wildlight, may we talk alone?? My den??** she sent apprehensively.

The events of the eve had worn down. Wildlight had danced, very much against his nature, into a near state of exhaustion. Right now, he'd propped himself up against a tree to catch his breath and to fend off the bit of a dreamberry haze that was swimming its way around in his mind.

At the sound of the send, his eyes snapped open and he became quickly sober. Though Pyre had said she might join the festivities later on, Wildlight hadn't really expected to hear from her at all. And now, her send seemed anxious somehow. Was something wrong?

He finally gathered his hazy thoughts enough to send an intelligible reply. **I'm on my way.**

His legs didn't quite want to work as he heaved himself up off the ground and made his way through the maze of trees known as the Hurst and to Pyre's den. He took a bit more time than he would have liked to get there, but the hollow entrance of the dwelling stared back at him soon enough.

**Pyre,** he sent up to the darkened entranceway, **is something wrong?**