Survival
Chapter One
It was cold. He wanted to shiver, but the pain of his injuries prevented him from moving. The worst of the pain seemed to settle over his right eyebrow, where blood now soaked the cloth covering his blind right eye. The sounds of battle had long since ceased, and he could faintly hear his mate's mournful cries and sends.
"Why can't I reply?" the wounded elf wondered, tensing when he heard something nearby. Soft, crunching footsteps. Were they those of an elf? He felt a shadow fall over him, and heard a soft gasp. He winced when he felt hands on his face, but was glad when he felt only four fingers to each. As his consciousness left him, the wounded elf opened his remaining eye and looked up at the one who had found him, but could only see a silhouette.
"Lie still, brave one. I will get you back to the Holt where the healer can have a look at you." The stranger said, softly, as she wrapped a pelt around him, then howled for her bond wolf. Then all was darkness for the wounded elf.
Swiftbreeze sighed as she walked along. Why her people had never moved away from the frozen mountains was beyond her. It was always cold, always bleak, and almost always short on food.
"Why is Icelash so intent on remaining here? What is it that he wants from this cold, barren place? We could have moved from here long ago!" Swiftbreeze thought, then stiffened; she smelled blood!
"Snowpaw, let's go find out where that scent is coming from!" Swiftbreeze whispered, as she looked in the direction the scent was coming from. What she came upon was more horrific than she had imagined; elves and trolls lay dead in the snow, their blood staining the pristine white bright red. Silently, in case the trolls were still around, Swiftbreeze dismounted from her bond wolf, then moved among the dead, checking to see if there were any that she was mistaken about. She turned when she saw an elf on the far border of the battlefield from the corner of her eye. With careful steps, she moved closer, then gasped when she saw him draw breath.
"This one's alive!" Swiftbreeze thought, as she kneeled down and touched his face. He was still warm, but he was losing heat. She was startled when he opened his only eye and looked up at her, but quickly regained her composure.
"Lie still, brave one. I will get you back to the Holt where the healer can have a look at you." Swiftbreeze murmured, as she untied her pelt cape wrapped it around the shivering survivor. Whether or not he comprehended what she was saying, Swiftbreeze couldn't tell, for almost as soon as she had gotten him onto Snowpaw's back, he'd passed out from the pain.
"I hope I can reach the Holt in time!" Swiftbreeze thought, as she climbed onto Snowpaw's back, grasped the wounded elf carefully around the middle with one arm, and then grabbed Snowpaw's scruff with the other hand. This signaled Snowpaw to move, and move quickly. Without a glance back, the three soon disappeared into the snowbound woods near the mountains.
Icelash, chief of the White Mountain Holt, looked up in surprise when Swiftbreeze returned in a whirl of disturbed snow.
/*/ Swiftbreeze, what happened?! /*/ Icelash sent, as Snowpaw skidded to a stop in front of the healer's tree.
/*/ There was a battle near the Go-Backs territory, Chief. The trolls have killed a good many elves today, but the elves did their share of damage, too. I have brought one of them here to be healed by Pineswift. /*/ Swiftbreeze replied, as she carefully hefted the wounded elf's weight onto her shoulders.
"Then let me help you." Icelash said, as he helped shoulder the other elf between them.
"Thank you, Chief." Swiftbreeze said, as she and the chief of the tribe hauled the wounded warrior into the healer's tree.
/*/ Pineswift. /*/ Icelash sent, waking the healer from his nap.
/*/ Icelash? Is there something wrong? /*/ the healer asked, immediately concerned by his chief's presence in his tree.
/*/ Nothing out of the ordinary, old friend. There's a stranger here that desperately needs your help. Swiftbreeze found him. /*/ Icelash sent, as he and Swiftbreeze gently laid the warrior on the healer's soft pelts.
"I'll see what I can do." Pineswift said, as he brushed wild strands of red-brown hair out of his eyes, then went to work on the wounded elf.
"There is nothing more we can do here, Swiftbreeze. Let's get some rest, then decide on what must be done later." Icelash said, calmly.
"You are right, my chief. I just hope that that elf can tell us where more of our kin are." Swiftbreeze murmured, as they both left the healer's tree.
"Why are you so interested in finding our missing kin? Aren't the Go-Backs enough?" Icelash asked, with some bitterness in his voice when he mentioned the Go-Backs.
"We have only seen them from a distance, and never actually talked to them. And there appear to be more elves in the mountains now, since this one I brought back is a stranger to these parts." Swiftbreeze argued, as she gave her dark haired chief a look that couldn't easily be discerned.
"I suppose you are right. But I will call a council together, to see what the tribe thinks of this and what should be done. As it is, the trolls are not going to leave these lands alone, now that blood has been shed." Icelash said, as he departed for the meeting place, leaving Swiftbreeze to think alone.
"Well, this could be the way I can get Icelash to leave these from here to locate our lost kin. From what I have seen, there's more than just Go-Backs in these mountains." Swiftbreeze thought, as she looked up at the darkening sky, wondering what the next day would bring.
Slowly, consciousness returned to a weary mind. The elf warrior could feel warmth surrounding him, and smelled the scent of herbs and the pelts that covered him. Upon opening his eye, he could see the faint glow of a bonfire outside. Outside? Where was he?
"I see that you are awake, warrior." A warm, male voice said, as its owner appeared before him.
"Aye, but no thanks to the trolls. Who are you?" the warrior asked, vaguely aware of the slight throbbing of his head.
"I am known as Pineswift. You were fortunate that Swiftbreeze had found you, since you were so close to death when you got here." The other elf replied, quietly.
"I guess I could say that I am fortunate. My name is One-Eye, by the way. Where have I ended up?" the warrior asked, as he sat up and drank some water from an earthenware mug that had been offered to him.
"You are in the healer's tree at White Mountain Holt. Icelash, our chief, is holding council now about what is to be done, now that the trolls have begun their war on us." Pineswift said, as he looked out at the gathering with some anxiety in his amber eyes.
"Then it is probably fortunate that I fell in battle, otherwise your tribe would have been overlooked." One-Eye said, listening as wolves howled in the distance.
"What do you mean?" Pineswift asked, as One-Eye lay back on the pelts, looking tired, even though he'd just woken up.
"My chief, Cutter, is looking for more of the High Ones' children. He came all this way to find them, and found so much more than what he'd expected." One-Eye murmured, as sleep started reclaiming him.
"And where is Cutter now?" Pineswift asked.
"With elves…………that ride on deer…………………." One-Eye said, before giving himself over to sleep again.
"The Go-Backs. Icelash needs to know of this." Pineswift thought, as he exited his tree, and went to the council to tell his chief of what had been said.