Author: Cindy England
Disclaimers: Characters presented within are property of Rushwater Holt. ElfQuest is copyright Warp Graphics Inc..
Fresh air wafted in through the den entrance as the first drops of early morning dew began to collect on the newly budded leaves. The moon was beginning its slow descent, slipping near-soundlessly into the canyon veins to be washed away in the swollen rivers. A familiar full-throated song lifted into the sky, drifting from the nearby caves up and into the den.
The chief's ears perked at the sound. A voice was missing. Climbing out of the den, he began making his way to the wolf caves to investigate.
His lifemate tended to spend more time with the wolves than with the rest of the tribe or him yet the bond between them was true. Her seemingly more wolfish nature complimented his strongly elven one, striking a balance in him that kept his wandering mind safely grounded.
Mounting the slopping plateau, he was greeted by the wolves still milling over a recent kill. He noted the bulging bellies of several of the females and smiled to himself, it would be a good newgreen for cubs.
Walking into one of the many caves, Highbelt found Sunstrider. His wolf-friend looked up at him with curious eyes, as the chief did not frequent the pack in such a manner often. Highbelt bent down to give the wolf a strong ruffle along the nap of the neck.
As the chief lifted his head and returned his attention to his investigation, his eyes caught Shiver, his lifemate's wolf-friend, pacing anxiously along the far back wall. Concerned, Highbelt sniffed the den air. He carefully sorted out the scent of dampness and the wolves until he could settle upon her scent. Her scent was stale.
Highbelt could feel the hackles on his neck begin to rise in wolfish fashion. His lifemate had not been to the wolf caves for several days. Neither had she been in the holt with him. Shiver's anxiousness began to spread through him. His mind reached out to her but was met with only silence.
Once in the canyon foothills, the two wolves soon picked up her scent. Highbelt could only follow, his heart pounding in his ears.
The early glow of dawn spread across the sky and lit the flaming locks hidden in a tangle of green. Highbelt froze, his mind suddenly numb, an unfamiliar feeling to him. He watched the wolves cautiously move forward, hoping against all hope that their noses had lied to him.
"Rainpetal..."
The cause of her death was all too clear to him as his eyes cleared and his mind returned to the small clearing. A broken tree limb. Her oddly twisted leg. The large, purplish welt on her head. A spear too far from reach. The deadly patch of strangleweed.
By the time Redmoon finally found his parents, Highbelt was cradling Rainpetal's pale form in his arms, surrounded by the two wolves. Not a scratch of strangleweed could be seen.
In due time, father, son and wolves returned to the holt and numerous worried tribesmates. Highbelt could only look at them vaguely with empty eyes before climbing to his den and shutting out their questions. No grounding. No balance. The world had crumbled beneath him.
The wolfsong was empty now. The starsong held no comfort. How many nights had it been? Was that her touch on his arm? Her scent, so strong, surely she was still here...
"Father,"
Yes, those red curls at the den entrance, it must be her. The hand shook his shoulder; he had not imagined it after all. She was here, with him...
**Nive!**
The red locks shook sorrowfully. **No, Father. Mother's dead. It's me. Redmoon.**
Highbelt pulled back from the sending. He watched the image of his lifemate melt before him and be replaced by his son. Redmoon's brow wrinkled in concern for his father.
"Father, please listen to me. You need to come out. You need to howl and move on. Please, come down to the river with me."
"Why?" Highbelt replied. "Why would I want to leave here? There is nothing for me outside."
"There's the tribe, Father! They need you - we all need you. You are Chief," Redmoon protested.
Highbelt merely gazed at his son. It didn't matter, he told himself. Perhaps, it had never mattered.
He was sure others visited him in the nights that followed. He hadn't asked them to but they did anyway. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Couldn't they see he was no more? Why couldn't she visit him?
The daystar was up when Highbelt suddenly found himself sitting at the base of the Elder Tree. Sunstrider was licking the palm of his hand and Shiver had curled up beside him. He had no clue as to how he had gotten there. Perhaps it was Redmoon's doing. The cub could not possibly understand, not at all.
He drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of chatter from those passing by him. The first wolf cubs had been dropped. A case of foaming sickness was sweeping through the area. Game was infected.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
A muddied boot stomped in front of him. Had the question been directed at him? The silence was deafening as all eyes turned toward the chief.
He stared at the boot. Gradually, his gaze followed the boot up until his eyes rested blankly on the fuming youth. He gave no response.
"I said, what do you intend to do about it, 'Chief'?" Slinghook growled.
Standing to his feet, Highbelt turned to walk away. It was not his problem anymore. Let them figure it out.
The roar of anger was followed by brilliant, biting pain along the left side of his head, throwing him to the ground. The shaft of the spear splintered and broke from the savage force of the blow. Blood came streaming down his face.
Crawling to his knees he could see Slinghook above him, eyes narrowed and locked on his chief, the broken spear in one fist clenched white at the knuckles.
"You call yourself a chief but you're nothing more than a self-absorbed husk of an elf!" Slinghook yelled, challenging his chief as he never though he would. Anger lent him strength to his cause.
Highbelt stared at the youth and knew he was right. He was empty. There was nothing left to give. His gaze slowly began to lower.
"You were willing to sit by and do nothing - watch us grow sick and die, be hunted like animals because of your pity! How many countless others here have lost loved ones yet survived when you would rather us die with her and you!"
The youth's bitter words struck Highbelt more sharply than the spear and his eyes snapped back up to the challenger. He swallowed and grit his teeth.
**You cry out because your snares have not been tripped and your bellies remain empty.** The Chief lock sent. **But I have lost a lifemate! You cry to hear your pain - now FEEL MINE!**
The torrent of despair ripped through the lock send like skyfire, engulfing the youth's body and mind mercilessly. Emotions and memories drained themselves from chief to challenger until at last Slinghook closed off his mind, clamping hands to head and collapsing to the ground.
Horrified at his action, Highbelt stared at the shaking elf before him, his mind suddenly clear for the first time in several moons. The tribe had gathered around the pair and all were wide-eyed and slack-jawed by the events.
Redmoon slowly approached his father and extended a hand to help him rise. He smiled faintly as his Chief-father rose and looked at him with knowing eyes. He had indeed been self-absorbed and foolish and it had almost cost him his chieftainship and all he held dear.
A familiar full-throated song lifted into the sky, drifting from the nearby caves and into the holt. The tribe circled around their chief and the still-recovering Slinghook, adding their throats to the song.
The chief's ears perked at the sound. A voice was missing. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and filled the void. The wolfsong was complete.