WHISPER

Concentrating, the flame-haired elf twirled the thin and very sharp fishbone between his fingers, carefully drilling a hole in the bead he had carved out of some click-deer bone and which he was holding with his other hand. When he was done he appraised the bead with a critical eye, then placed it in a bowl next to him, which was already filled with a handful of similar beads. He would go to Doeskin later to ask for some dyes to paint them. As for payment… a smile curved around his lips.

He picked up another round ball from a bowl on his other side, preparing to drill a hole in it, when he was interrupted.

"Redbead! I thought I'd find you here." A head of auburn hair appeared around the tree trunk and Redbead smiled at his friend.

"Smooth Haze, good to see you. I meant to find you later anyway, I need some of that really thin string you make."

"You and your beads," Smooth Haze said with a grin. "Do you ever think of anything else?"

Redbead raised an eyebrow. "Do you really need to ask?"

"I guess not. Most of the women would probably disagree in any case." Smooth Haze sniffed. "Anyway, I came to ask you if you were up for a swim and a fish. It's a hot night."

Redbead agreed quickly. "Let me just clear my things away," he said. "I'll join you in a moment." Smooth Haze nodded and both elves went their ways.

A little while later Redbead dove into the sheltered rock pool where Smooth Haze was concentrating on catching a fish. The splash soaked Smooth Haze through and through and he swore at Redbead.

"Puckernuts! That water is cold and you made me lose my fish!" Redbead laughed over his protests.

"I can't believe you weren't wet through yet. Sometimes I think you're secretly afraid of water. You always spend twice the time it takes me to drill a hole in a bead just sitting at the edge of the pool like a scared treewee, dangling your big toe in it. Face it, my friend, you just can't stand cold. In the white-cold season you wear three layers of fur when everyone else is still wearing short sleeves."

"I do not!" Smooth Haze splashed water into Redbead's face.

"Do too!" Redbead grinned, splashing water back. They started a water fight, until they were suddenly interrupted by a shout.

"Tailtwitcher, no!" Before the two elves knew what was going on they saw a light brown streak flash out of the bushes, launch itself into the air and against the two elves, knocking them over. Both elves lost their footing and disappeared under water.

Redbead was the first to resurface, to the sound of a woman's laughter. He was quickly joined by a spluttering Smooth Haze. Redbead wiped his flame-red curls out of his eyes and looked around himself. He noticed a wolf paddling behind him in the pool, then looked to the bank of the pool, where a brown-haired woman stood, trying to stifle her laughter. Redbead pulled one corner of his mouth up in a wry grin.

"Hello Newgreen," he said. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

"I'm sorry," Newgreen chuckled, "Tailtwitcher gets a bit… enthusiastic when he nears water."

"What about yourself?" Smooth Haze joined in the conversation. "Don't you feel like jumping in yourself?" He pulled his face into the most enticing grin he could muster and Newgreen chuckled again.

"Not really," she said. "I came here to get some herbs, not to swim."

"What about your enthusiasm for two dashing males?" Redbead grinned the same cheesy grin as Smooth Haze, and both stood up straight, pulled their arms back and tightened their chest muscles, standing in exactly the same position. "Redbead and Smooth Haze, at your service," he said.

Newgreen laughed aloud. "Redmoon and Smooth Haze, incurable flirts," she said. "Sometimes I wonder whether it's in the hair."

"It takes one to know one," Smooth Haze said. He brushed his auburn locks out of his face and stretched out his arm. "Please join us?"

Newgreen crossed her arms. "I would, but don't you have an appointment with Bramblesong for exactly the same thing you're inviting me to do?"

"Oh puckernuts!" Smooth Haze swore. "I forgot all about that." He rushed out of the water and started scrambling into his clothes.

"That's a good compliment for Bramblesong," Redbead said dryly.

**Shut up,** Smooth Haze returned as he disappeared towards his appointment.

When he'd gone, Redbead turned to Newgreen. "Well, that leaves just the two of us," he said with a grin. "You have my undivided attention."

"I guess I'd better take advantage of that then," Newgreen replied with a crooked smile. "It doesn't happen all that often." She calmly undressed and jumped into the pool.

"Are you implying something?" Redbead asked, pulling her into his arms.

"Only that every woman in the Holt knows what your furs feel like," Newgreen said, caressing his neck.

"Not every woman," Redbead said with a grin. "For instance, there's one approaching right now who has never enjoyed my pleasure. Straywolf!" he called out while Newgreen shot a curious glance over her shoulder.

A woman had appeared out of the brush, her brown, shaggy hair tied at the nape of her neck in a practical hairstyle. Her grey eyes fixed themselves on Redbead, though she didn't say anything, nor did she smile.

"Care to join us, Straywolf? What's a beautiful woman like you doing on a beautiful night like this anyway? You look far to serious."

Straywolf looked at him only a moment more, then sniffed in disdain and disappeared into the underbrush again. Redbead looked after her with a grin.

"I swear, one of these days she's going to drop down on all fours, growl at me and lope off into the forest. I've never seen anyone so wolf-like as Straywolf."

"You shouldn't tease her so," Newgreen said reproachfully. "She really isn't that bad once you get to know her better."

"I can't help it, she's just such a grateful target!" Redbead replied, not a trace of guilt in his voice. "Plus, she's a challenge."

Newgreen chuckled. "Like you need one. Aren't there enough women in the tribe already for you to join with?"

"One is enough at the moment," Redbead said diplomatically, locking her blue eyes with his gaze. He was just about to pull her tighter into his arms when he was interrupted by a sending.

**Redbead! Come to the Elder Tree, now!** The sending was open and sounded urgent, and both elves recognised the mental voice of their Chief, Redmoon. Redbead swore and rushed out of the water towards his clothes, Newgreen following on his heels. While he was dressing, he sent back.

**What's wrong?**

**Flycatcher is hurt, he seems to have got caught in a trap of the humans.**

A cold hand enclosed itself around Redbead's heart as he thought of his beloved wolf-friend and he ran back to the Holt as quickly as he could. He was met by his Chief and the hunting party, who had apparently just returned. Although Redbead wasn't Hunt himself, Flycatcher was a keen and good hunter, and the hunting party often took the eager wolf along on their trips. Freshtwig, the Hunt Leader, now fixed his eyes on Redbead.

"We were on our way back when Flycatcher strayed off the path for a heartbeat. Then we suddenly heard him yowl in pain. He seems to be caught in some kind of trap, but we couldn't see very well." He paused for a moment, swallowing hard before he continued. "I'm afraid he's in a lot of pain, Redbead, he wouldn't even let us come close. That's why we're not certain what has caught him, and why we want you to come along. He's your wolf-bond, maybe you can get through to him."

Redbead nodded, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "Which way?" he asked, clenching his fists. Freshtwig turned around and beckoned, but was stopped again by Redbead.

"Wait," he said, scanning the faces around him. He stopped when he found Clearmoth, the healer, and stretched out his hand. "Clearmoth, please come along," he asked, his voice tight from the tears he struggled to keep back. Clearmoth nodded.

"I can't promise I can do anything though," she said honestly. "You know my healing magic isn't very strong."

**I know,** Redbead sent, unable to use his voice now. **Just try please.** Clearmoth nodded again and followed the small party into the forest.

Redbead noticed that the moon had dropped a few hands in the sky when Freshtwig finally announced they were nearing the spot. **Flycatcher? Where are you my friend?** he sent.

When he opened his mind to receive an answer, he was hit by a wave of pain so intense that he stumbled. Bentaxe, who was walking next to him, caught him and supported him. "What's wrong?" the hunter asked, worried.

"Pain," Redbead groaned. "He's hurt really bad, I can feel it." They were distracted by Freshtwig, who had now stopped and pointed at a path that led away from the main track.

"He's through there," he said. "You go first, we'll be right behind you if you need us."

Redbead nodded, his body by now clammy with sweat, and he carefully edged along the path. His breath caught in his throat when he finally caught sight of his wolf-friend. His front left leg seemed almost ripped from his body, and something which seemed to be a pointed stake was poking up through the flesh. Redbead could see bare, broken bone and torn muscle, and he had to swallow several times to keep from vomiting. He took a step closer, but stopped when the wolf growled at him.

**Flycatcher, it's me, your friend** Redbead sent, trying to sound soothing. **I'll take the pain away, just let me come closer.**

He had trouble keeping up the sending. Flycatcher, like all wolves, was only understandable on a very basic level at the best of times, and he had now lost all coherence and only transmitted waves of pain. Redbead had to shut his mind for a few heartbeats in order to gather himself back together, but he stubbornly edged closer, keeping up the stream of calming, soothing messages.

It seemed to work. The wolf, his breathing shallow, calmed down a bit and stopped his growling, although his pain-filled eyes never lost sight of the approaching elf.

**That's right, my friend, I won't harm you. Just let me near and I'll take the pain from you.** Redbead blinked a tear away. If only by helping you out of your misery, he added to himself.

He was only a handwidth away from the wolf when the animal went mad. Flycatcher had tried to lift his head, and the resulting extra pain cancelled out all the soothing and calming that Redbead had poured over him. The wolf reacted on instinct, and his head shot up and closed around Redbead's throat before the elf even knew what was happening.

"Redbead!" Freshtwig shouted. He and Bentaxe leapt towards the elf and wolf, and the two of them drove their weapons into the poor animal, freeing him from his misery. Freshtwig quickly grabbed the wolf's head and struggled to wrench the jaws open.

**Clearmoth, quick!** he sent. The healer was already kneeling beside him, entering her trance before the teeth had even been removed from Redbead's flesh. She concentrated, desperately trying to let the skin heal, to let the bleeding stop.

**Get Bramblesong,** she sent after a few moments. **I need her herbs, I can't do it on my own.** Freshtwig looked at Bentaxe, who nodded and ran off towards the Holt.

It seemed an eternity before he returned, followed by a pale Bramblesong. Smooth Haze and Redmoon had also followed, carrying a large hide and two poles to make into a stretcher. All this time Clearmoth had sat next to Redbead, deeply in trance with her hands placed on his throat. Her slender fingers were covered in blood, and there was such a large puddle on the ground underneath him that none of the elves thought he would survive. Still, Bramblesong knelt down on his other side and opened her herbal pouches. She richly sprinkled the torn flesh with dried goodleaf to stop infection, then packed a generous amount of hair moss on the wound, wrapping soft strips of leather around it all to keep it in place. Only then did Clearmoth open her eyes and come out of her trance.

"We need to get him back," she whispered. She tried to get up and almost stumbled of weariness, quickly caught and supported by Bentaxe. Redmoon and Smooth Haze placed the stretcher next to the wounded elf, carefully placed him onto it and lifted it to carry him back to the Holt. Bentaxe and Clearmoth followed after them.

Freshtwig and Bramblesong turned towards the still body of Flycatcher, intending to take him back to the Holt too. Freshtwig finally managed a closer look at the human trap.

"Look," he pointed, "this contraption somehow drove the stake through Flycatcher's leg, almost tearing it off in the process."

Bramblesong pulled up her lip in disgust. "Humans," she spat. "The High Ones only know how much grief they have caused over the many turns of the seasons." Freshtwig only nodded.

"Come," he sighed. Together they carefully freed the animal from the trap and carried him back to the Holt.

* * * * *

Upon their return they found that Redbead had been placed on a soft patch of grass to the side of the clearing in front of the Elder Tree. He was too severely wounded to try and lift him into his den. Smooth Haze was sitting next to him, still pale, staring at the ground. Clearmoth had disappeared into her den to sleep. Bramblesong went up to Redbead and checked on the bandages, finding to her relief that although they were soaked in blood, none of it was fresh, indicating that the hair moss had done its job and the bleeding had stopped.

Redmoon approached Freshtwig, who was still holding Flycatcher's body. "Place him outside the wolf caves for now," he said. "We won't hold the howl just yet." Freshtwig nodded. Redmoon hadn't spoken the thought, but it was shared by everyone: Redbead probably wouldn't survive. The howl would probably have to be held for both elf and wolf.

Redbead proved them wrong. He clung to life beyond everyone's expectations. Clearmoth spent her time sleeping, then using up all her energy in her attempts to heal him, then sleeping again. Bramblesong roamed the forest for all the goodleaf and hair moss she could find. She also regularly tried to make Redbead drink some starflower tea to help his fever disperse. After one full day had passed and Redmoon realised that he maybe wouldn't lose a tribesmember after all, he called the tribe together for Flycatcher's howl. He didn't like doing it while Redbead was still unconscious, but decay had already started to touch the body and he couldn't postpone it any longer.

The howl was subdued. Everyone was preoccupied with worry for the flame-haired elf they all liked. Smooth Haze, always Redbead's closest friend, didn't leave his side for a moment. He wiped his forehead when he was sweating and covered him with a warm fur when he was shivering. Clearmoth and Bramblesong continued their medical care and slowly, over the course of a hand of days, Redbead's condition improved. He would sometimes wake for a moment, but it was more the fitful waking during a fevered dream than proper consciousness.

Finally, on the fifth day, Redbead stirred in a way that made Smooth Haze feel that his friend had truly woken up. He quickly summoned Clearmoth and took his friend's hand in his own.

"Redbead? How do you feel? Talk to me, my friend," he said, concerned but happy to see Redbead open his eyes. Clearmoth joined them and sat down next to Smooth Haze.

"Wh… wh…" Redbead tried to speak. He attempted to clear his throat, then almost fainted again from the pain this caused. "Where am I?" he finally managed to say, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. Clearmoth frowned.

**That doesn't sound right,** she lock sent to Smooth Haze. **His voice shouldn't sound that bad just from not using it for a few days.**

**What do you think is wrong?** Smooth Haze asked. **Is his throat still damaged?**

Clearmoth shook her head in confusion. **It shouldn't be. Look, the wound has healed well. He'll have some scars, but I managed to keep it to a minimum with the help of Bramblesong's herbs.**

"Hold still," she said aloud to Redbead, carefully placing her hands on his throat. He flinched, but remained rigid while Clearmoth closed her eyes and used her magic to examine the inside of his throat.

She took a while, but finally she dropped her hands again, shaking her head in dismay. **I failed.** she sent, still only to Smooth Haze.

**What do you mean you failed?** the latter asked, confused. **He's alive.**

**There's a place in your throat where the voice is formed,** Clearmoth explained, touching her own throat to indicate the location. **It is damaged beyond repair. I've been concentrating too much on repairing the outside and neglected the inside. He'll never be able to speak normally again.**

Smooth Haze raised his hand to comfort her, but was interrupted by Redbead.

"What's wrong?" he whispered hoarsely. "I have a right to know." Neither Clearmoth nor Smooth Haze could find the courage to tell him immediately, and Redbead continued. "Flycatcher is dead, isn't he?"

Smooth Haze nodded. **We held the howl a hand of days ago. I'm sorry.**

Redbead just nodded, then caught Clearmoth's eyes with his intent gaze. "Now tell me what's wrong. I deserve to know." His voice still didn't reach above a whisper, and Clearmoth realised that he probably understood the problem, he just needed her to confirm it.

"Flycatcher almost tore your throat open," she said. "With Bramblesong's help I have managed to heal the wound, but it seems your voice got damaged. I don't think you'll ever be able to do more than whisper from now on."

Redbead was quiet for a very long time, then he attempted to get up. Smooth Haze hurried to support his friend and together they managed to get to their feet. Redbead was still weak from his injury, but once he was standing he resolutely pushed Smooth Haze away and stumbled to the centre of the clearing.

**My Chief and tribesmembers,** he sent when he had reached it. **Please gather and hear me.**

It didn't take long before the entire tribe was standing around the bead maker; they hadn't really left the Holt during the time it had taken him to recover. Redmoon looked around to check that all were there, then stepped in front of Redbead. The latter waited until everybody was completely silent before speaking.

"Clearmoth has just informed me that my voice has been damaged permanently," he started, deliberately speaking rather than sending. The elves strained to understand his whispered words.

"Humans killed Flycatcher and, by killing him, stole my voice," he continued. "Redbead and his voice have died with Flycatcher. From now on, I shall be known as Whisper."

Redmoon looked at the elf in front of him for a heartbeat, then nodded. "Welcome back to the tribe, Whisper," he said.

Only then did Whisper sink back to his knees and throw back his head in a silent, whispered howl of mourning for his lost wolf-bond.