Oh hi

Yes, I'm still alive

On that topic (not really), guess who's a really interesting character who has no connection at all to Thranduil/Legolas/Sky or the original intended plot? Twist.

Also most of the others, really. But most of them aren't that important in this long digression from the main story.

:P

"Hi, Storm, what are you doing today?"

Storm made sure his grimace was completely wiped from his face before he turned around to face the elfling. "Oh, hello, Swift..."

Fox and Moon's silver-haired daughter grinned. "Should I guess? Are you going hunting?"

"No." He looked up and asked Eru what he'd done to deserve another Sky. Except this one was developing a concerning fascination with him despite not being his sister.

"Berry-picking?"

"No."

"Looking for orcs?"

"No." He was walking now, but his chances of escape were slim.

"Trying to get away from me?"

...Oh. "No!" he lied, knowing she'd probably said it to make him feel guilty. She was cunning, this one, and sharp; she'd been marked as the tribe's new healer by Star before she could understand what that meant. Sometimes she reminded him of a certain Sinda a long time ago...

"Liar."

"Um. Hey, have you talked to the Windan yet? I know they really wanted to meet you."

"I talked to the Windan leaders and Night and a bunch of others. Shouldn't you be doing leader things or something?"

"Taking a walk is a very leader-ish thing to do."

"Not really, we all go for walks sometimes. You're not doing anything special."

Storm did a backflip without any running start. "Was that special? Most elves can't do that."

"Showing off isn't special. You do it a lot."

"I—Swift, how old are you, twenty-six?"

"Yeah."

"Eesh. You know, when I was twenty-six, I respected my elders."

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"Only my parents. Hey, I have an idea."

"You want me to go bother someone else?" Swift guessed sadly. A little too sadly, actually.

"No." He turned back toward the all-tribe camp. "I want to see something."

"What?" She bounced after him. "What do you want to see?"

He smirked to himself and said nothing.

"Storm, what do you want to see? Storm!"

"Hurry up and you'll see."

"I AM hurrying! You're only walking!"

Storm started to jog. "Is this better?"

"No, go faster!"

He sped up a tiny bit. "Here, come this way."

"To the Cuind?" They were at the top of the hill, as usual.

"Yep. Do they scare you?"

"Um. No."

"Sure they don't." Storm searched for and quickly found Twist, who appeared to be teaching some of the younger Cuind how to fight hand-to-hand with their spiky gloves—though he, as usual, didn't wear them. This activity explained why the Cuind always won wrestling matches. "Morning, Twist."

His fellow leader offered a nod, almost an honor coming from him. The other Cuind ignored Storm, not even hissing. The Hwenti visited them at least once every all-tribe meeting.

"Is he who you wanted to see, Storm?" Swift demanded.

"Not exactly. Twist, want to meet our new elfling?"

Twist raised an eyebrow and made the "go be useful" hand signal to the other elves, which Storm understood from his time running with the Cuind. "Hmm," he replied, coming closer in his normal twitchy, might-bite-you-if-you-move-too-fast way. Storm was used to that by now; he considered Twist his friend. Twist would probably still bite Storm's hand off if Storm grabbed him without warning, though.

Swift didn't bounce right up to Twist as a young Sky (really Sky at any age) would have, but she squared her shoulders and stared him straight in the eye. "Hi."

He didn't look very impressed.

Storm inched around to the Cuind's side and nudged him. "It would be nice of you to say hi back."

Twist held Swift's gaze and didn't even blink. She looked rather freaked out but didn't back down.

"Hmm," said Twist again. Then he nodded thoughtfully to Storm and went on his way.

Storm went and knelt next to Swift. "You know what I bet you can't do?"

"What?"

"I bet you can't take this huge leaf and pin it to his cloak without him noticing."

"I bet I can."

"I bet you can't. Also, this is something we never ever tell your Nana about."

"Shh, Storm, I can't be sneaky with you talking."

. . . . . .

Twist was keeping an eye on Wasp and Viper, the two Cuind who were most likely to do something stupid at all-tribe meetings, when Whisper came up to him and tssk-tssked. "Were you sleeping?" she inquired in concern.

He shook his head, confused. Why would she think that?

"You have a leaf stuck to your cloak." She tried to brush it off, but blinked. "It's pinned on."

He pulled his cloak around, not believing her, but there it was. He hadn't even noticed anyone bumping into him. Who could have snuck up on him like that? A healer, maybe?

It had to be Storm. Twist didn't know how he'd done it, but the stripey-haired Hwenti was always involved with these things.

. . . . . .

Storm was sipping some tea with Hawk and several of the Vanya's children when something touched his back. He looked around in time to see Twist disappearing around Hawk's tent, and wondered if the Cuind had given him a friendly pat as he passed; it didn't seem like something he would do, but who knew? Maybe he was getting more normal. That would be too bad.

Then Storm spluttered and snorted tea out his nose as something wet touched his neck, and scrambled to remove the slimy toad that had been placed in his hood.

. . . . . .

"So, any ideas?" Storm had just finished explaining to Raven about the toad.

Raven wasn't looking well. Not yet a century away from losing his daughter, he'd been back to his usual chores for a while, but the spark in his eyes had yet to make an appearance. He cried quite a lot, which Storm hoped was helping to work out some of his pain. Storm was actually amazed at how his friend had handled the whole thing. While it was indescribably horrible for Raven—of course it was, Storm couldn't imagine—he'd actually... managed it. Better than Flint, actually. Even though he'd pretty much slept for weeks, and still didn't really talk to anyone except Flint and Storm, Storm couldn't help but get the impression that Raven had the pain under control. He wasn't going to snap under the pressure or fade or be left irreversibly broken like Thranduil. Storm knew his friend was gradually, purposefully working his way back. Raven, after all, knew how to grieve.

So, Storm made a strong effort to include him in the tribe's affairs as much as Raven usually wanted to be included. This was especially true of mischief, which Storm figured they all needed an extra dose of right now. Swift helped quite often, as responsible as she acted when Star was watching.

However he was feeling, Raven was always a reliable source of prank ideas. "He doesn't like corn."

"Okay, and how do I get him to eat corn?"

"See, if it's all he has..."

. . . . . .

"Star's new elfling is so cute," Whisper told Twist, who pretended to be interested. "I wish I had one."

"She's not Star's child," Twist reminded the healer. "She's Fox's and his wife's." Twist took enough note of the only blind elf he'd ever met to know his name.

"It still counts." She sighed wistfully. "I miss having an elfling."

There didn't seem to be anything Twist could do here, so he reached into his pack for something to eat. His fingers touched something lumpy, a little squishy, and long and round. Why was there...

Storm.

He tossed the unnatural "food" onto the ground and stuck his hand in again. There was another one. Several, in fact.

Corn. Where had the Windan even gotten it? That place where all the dead elves went, they said. Twist was half convinced it didn't even exist. Probably corn just came from the west or something. And they used it both to make bread and to eat by itself. Just ate it right off the core. It irritated him. And it tasted funny anyway. And why was it those colors? Some of these were even worse than the usual stuff, they were a vivid yellow. Like... like... egg yolks. And the little bumps looked like teeth. It just wasn't right.

He threw all the corn onto the ground. It wasn't worthy of anything else.

Whisper, who had been watching all this out of the corner of her eye, picked up one of the corn things. "Um..."

Twist made a face and reached for her pack instead, still hungry. It felt... unusually knobby...

. . . . . .

"And then he piled up all the corn from both packs and set it on fire," Storm reported. "Too bad it was fresh and didn't pop."

"We worked hard for that," Silivren scolded, without much conviction. Alcaito was smirking.

"Sorry. Pass the water?" She did, and he took a gulp from the jug. (The Windan were the only ones who had true jugs.) "Well. Thanks for your sacrifice. I'd better be going, I guess, got to make sure no one sleeps too close to the fire."

"See you."

Funny, thought Storm as he walked back to where most of the Hwenti were concentrated, how tired he was. Nothing much had happened today; they'd been settled already and he'd given the usual report on the first day (it was his second time to do so). Swift had done all the sneaking for their two pranks on Twist and bribed one of the Cuind (Wolf, the former leader, who thought it was hilarious) to help with the second one all on her own. He'd mostly just talked to people.

Actually he wasn't really tired. Mostly just kind of... wobbly... and... whoa, his head was spinning. That, er, wasn't normal.

He made his way to Star first. She got to her feet as soon as he approached. "Storm, I wish you wouldn't let Swift around Twist. He makes me nervous and she's still so young."

"Right. Great. Um, Star, I think I ate something poisonous."

"You what?"

"I don't... um... feel very good..." His words slurred at the end as he tried to sit down, and something bumped into him—

. . . . . .

"Storm? Storm, wake up!"

"Mm, go away, Swift..."

The elfling yanked his hair.

"Ow!"

"The healers want to talk to you, Stripes."

"Stripes?"

"That's your new nickname. Wake up."

He groaned and sat up. He was on a blanket in the grass, surrounded by what had to be every healer from each tribe. He counted—yes, eleven including Swift. Storm blinked, trying to remember his last moments of consciousness. "What happened, did something hit me?"

"Yes," replied Star dryly. "The ground. You fainted."

"I... I felt sick."

"You've been pranking Twist?"

"Yeah, so?"

She rolled her eyes at the other healers. "Try not to cause any collateral damage next time. That's all."

"What should I do for my leaders?" Night, the Windan healer, asked her.

"They'll sleep it off too."

"Twist poisoned me?" Storm muttered indignantly, though everyone except Swift was now ignoring him.

The elfling patted him on the head. "Go back to sleep, Stripes."

. . . . . .

"Hi, Stripes. Do you feel better?"

"Uh-huh. Hey, don't get too close—Swift, what did I just say?"

"They like me," she said, unconcerned, holding out her hand for one of the sarril horses to sniff. This was a white-nosed mare who had bitten Storm a moment ago.

"They're gentler with elflings," noted Smoke, the Kinn-lai leader, from atop his horse. He sounded as impatient as always even though he hadn't been doing anything important before Storm approached.

"Figures. So, will you help me?"

"What will you give me?"

Storm fished a small bag out of his pack and tossed it over. "Cinnamon. I got it from the Kindi earlier."

"Fair enough. Follow me." Smoke nudged his burnt-black stallion into a trot, halting again after a few moments when they reached the invisible line between the Windan and Kindi tents and the unmarked but not intruded upon Cuind section. He slid down from the horse, chirped, and pointed. "See him? Chase."

The stallion took off up the hill. Storm and Swift ducked behind a tent to watch.

Smoke paused, halfway turned to run. "I haven't talked to you today. You convinced the horse with a bunch of apples."

"Understood."

. . . . . .

Twist first noticed the sarril in his tribe's camp when his tribemates started shrieking and scattering. He cried out and leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over Whisper (whom he'd been talking to, or rather who had been talking to him), ready to confront it if he had to in order to save someone. Actually that proved to be rather necessary, as the equine inexplicably raced straight past all the other elves, bounding over a campfire or two at a time like they weren't there, and he realized it was coming straight for him and Whisper. He froze for an instant, then cried out and tackled Whisper out of the way, not considering that she, being a healer, could possibly take down a sarril by herself.

The horse spun in place and dove at him again, and he only just rolled out of the way in time. He snarled in surprise and made a run for it, elves hurrying to get far out of his way, but the sarril cut him off before he could even choose a tree to go for, and he doubled back. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to think of something to do; his tribemates were too busy rushing out of the horse's way to mount an effective rescue for a few more seconds. Even the Cuind wouldn't fight a sarril.

The stallion slammed straight into him, sending him tumbling. Twist rolled back to his feet just in time to avoid being sent flying again, but was tripped up by a flying hoof. He curled into a ball and threw his arms up to protect his head.

"STOP!"

The horse, who had been about to give the huddled elf an experimental tap with his hoof, flicked an ear toward the source of the shout. Whisper was advancing with quite a large knife from her healing supplies, looking very ready to use it. The horse's nostrils flared.

A whistle came from far off, and the horse's head snapped up; then he sped off, leaving Twist (who had already crawled almost far enough away to feel safe while the stallion was distracted) panting on the ground.

Whisper ran to him so fast she skidded the last few steps. "Is your head hurt?"

"It's fine," Twist promised, glaring daggers at the lower camps and the elf he knew was somewhere among them.

. . . . . .

"This has gone TOO FAR," Whisper snarled. Even though she wasn't any bigger or stronger-looking than Moon, the Hwenti got out of her way as quickly as the Cuind had fled the sarril. You didn't mess with the Kinn-lai horses and you didn't mess with healers, especially if they still had their knives out.

Storm held up his hands in surrender. He was guessing it wouldn't work to point out that Twist was just fine, standing right behind her and slowly but surely frying Storm with his stare. "Sorry."

She threw her knife at him—at his pack, actually, luckily for him. Everyone gasped.

"All right, I'm sure Storm gets the point," Star soothed her friend, handing the knife back (which seemed like a bad idea to Storm). "Right, Storm?"

"Yes. Right. No more poisoning, yeah?" he said to Twist.

The Cuind gave him just the tiniest, subtlest hint of a smirk and turned to leave, clicking to Whisper to come along.

"I have a feeling there might be more poisoning," Winter said.

. . . . . .

"Storm, do you know where Swift is?" Fox had made his way over to where Storm was trying to talk to Flint; he wasn't really interrupting anything because the leader hadn't been having much success. Flint had lost both his parents now.

"No, haven't seen her since this morning. Ask Star?"

"I did, she said the same thing. Winter doesn't know either."

That wasn't too concerning, seeing as there were a lot of elves all over the place—more than seven hundred in total—and Storm hadn't actually seen Flint for two days before this. "You seen her?" he inquired to the half-human and Rain, who was combing through her despondent husband's hair.

"Not for a while," Rain murmured, and Flint shook his head. "Want me to look?" the former added.

"No, better idea. Raven!"

The tall elf appeared in moments; he was always keeping an eye on Flint these days. "Yeah?"

"Find Swift real quick."

"Right." He vanished, and reappeared only a few minutes later. "Yeah, you're not going to like this."

"What?" asked Storm and Fox at the same time, though the elfling's father actually sounded less concerned. He probably figured that if Swift were in any danger whatsoever, Raven would have done something immediately.

Raven beckoned for them to follow, and Storm towed Fox along. "Here, look," Raven said when they found a good view of the Cuind slope. "Hint: the Cuind don't have any silver-haired elves." This wasn't technically true, as Wolf and some of his relatives had gray-silver hair, but it wasn't the bright shiny color of Swift's.

Storm spotted the only glint of silver on the hill and muttered a Silvan curse under his breath. "Thieves."

Fox kicked him. "What?"

"Swift is with Whisper and Twist," Raven narrated, with more than a touch of amusement. At least someone was happier now, Storm thought grumpily. "Looks like they're giving her bacon. They must have snatched her as revenge for the Sarril, eh, Stormy?"

Fox made a face. "Moon is not going to like this."

"We'll get her back," Storm promised darkly.

"How?"

"By continuing the war. If we annoy them enough, they'll have to give her back, won't they? C'mon, Raven."

"Isn't that how we got here in the first place?" asked Fox, but Storm was already long gone. As the blind elf turned back toward where he knew the camp was to give his wife the news, he heard a whisper in his ear.

"I don't think Storm saw, but she has the Cuind mark on her other cheek. Just so you know."

"Thanks, Raven."

. . . . . .

"Is there anything else sticky we can mix in?"

Storm didn't get an answer, as one of his companions was too busy smirking and the other looked utterly bewildered.

"Pine, I've told you three times what we're doing, correct?"

"Yes?"

"Say that again and sound sure."

"Yes." Pine nodded determinedly, then frowned. "...?"

"I—" Storm sighed. "Repeat it back to me."

"Yes?"

"No, the plan."

"Oh. We'll grab all the sticky stuff we can find and mix it up ...which we've done already. Huh." Pine considered the nearby pot of unidentifiable brownish stuff (mostly sap and mud) as if he'd only just noticed it, which was unlikely as he'd been stirring it a moment ago. "Then we'll throw it at the Cuind. Why are we doing this again?"

"They stole Swift."

"Because you pranked them, right?"

"You can forget that part if you want."

Pine nudged Raven. "Shouldn't we throw this at him instead, then?"

"Less screaming that way," said the tall elf.

"True. Storm isn't a lot of people."

But Storm wasn't listening to Pine's confusing wording. "What's Fox doing?"

The other two came over to see. Fox was climbing up the Cuind's hill, alone except for the stick he occasionally used to navigate, and the Cuind cleared out of his way warily. Until, that was, a tall tawny-haired elf who looked quite a bit like Pine, though less broad-shouldered, appeared out of nowhere and intercepted him.

"Thorn!" Pine exclaimed, dropping the sticky gloop Storm hadn't noticed in his hand. This elf wasn't always as innocent as he appeared.

It was indeed Pine and Star's son, who'd been taking Storm's advice from their first meeting and coming to all-tribe gatherings more often, so that his parents could see him on occasion. Still, half the time he arrived late or left early, and he always seemed preoccupied. He also had a strong inclination to react to sudden movement by tackling the culprit.

Maybe because he'd grown up with the Hwenti, Thorn was gentler with Fox than was the Cuinds' usual approach to outsiders, and bent down (quite a distance because of the height difference) to speak softly to Fox. Fox gestured vaguely up the hill and said something in return, and Thorn nodded and led him along just as a Hwenti would have.

"He wants to see Swift," Raven murmured. "Probably Moon was worried."

Sure enough, Thorn led Fox right to where Twist and Whisper were sitting, apparently teaching Swift how to stitch wounds better. The elfling looked pleased to see her father but not relieved. Storm, Raven, and Pine couldn't hear the long exchange that followed, but it ended with Twist nodding thoughtfully and gesturing for Fox to sit with them.

Storm contemplated this. "Plan's still on," he declared finally.

"Not going to return the mercy they showed Fox?" asked Raven, not sounding surprised.

"No, I think—did they just put the Cuind dye-mark on Fox?"

"Yup."

"Does Swift—Swift has one too. All right, divide the slime, we're attacking immediately."

. . . . . .

Meanwhile, Twist was learning that his usual methods of communication didn't work very well with Fox, leaving him with no choice but to actually vocalize in response to the talkative Hwenti's questions.

"She's doing pretty well, isn't she? I can feel the difference from how Star does stitches." Fox, importantly, meant he could feel the difference in the animal skins they were using; they were not practicing on him.

"Mm," Twist hummed, in place of his usual nod.

"Do you know how to do stitches? My sister taught me but it's been a long time."

Twist didn't think he was supposed to respond to this, but learned otherwise when Fox turned toward him questioningly.

"Are you still there?"

"Mhm."

"Did Whisper ever teach you how to do stitches?"

"Yes."

"Good skill to have, yeah? Thanks, Whisper, for teaching her."

"Yes, thank you, Whisper," chirped Swift; the older healer smiled and said of course she was happy to help.

"Hey, Thorn, are you still here?" Fox asked curiously.

"Right behind you," replied the elf in question.

"We haven't talked in so long. How are the Cuind treating you?"

Thorn grinned a little. "All right. How've you been?"

"Never better! I mean, just look." He gestured in Swift's direction. "Moon and I couldn't be prouder. Do you have elflings?"

This question was directed at Twist, forcing him to open his mouth again. "Mm, no."

"Do you want to?"

"Um."

Fox waited.

Twist didn't think either yes or no would be a fully truthful answer, and settled for the equivalent of a shrug. "Maybe."

"Not sure yet?"

He made a noncommittal voice.

Fox gazed blankly at him for a moment, then turned to Thorn. "Talking to this one is like shelling a crawfish, isn't it? So much work to get anything at all."

"You can say that again," Thorn agreed dryly.

"But you're not married?" Fox persisted to Twist.

"No—"

Thorn yelped and slammed into Twist, throwing him to the ground as something went SPLAT right where he'd been sitting. Fox dove for cover too, correctly interpreting the noise they'd made and the whooping coming from the attacking elves. Whisper and the elfling soon joined them, one giggling while the other squealed as something sticky landed in her dark hair.

The Cuind were at a distinct disadvantage. Not only were Twist and his group near the edge of the tribe's space, but there was practically nowhere to hide as the Cuind had no tents or other dwellings. Twist lunged for his pack and held it up as a shield, both the small Hwenti sheltering behind him, and Whisper crouched behind Thorn, the biggest of the group by far.

Twist thought quickly. There were about ten attacking Hwenti this time (Storm had recruited a few more after finishing the sticky mixture), and his tribemates were not yet mounting an effective defense. Shooting the attackers seemed excessive, but these were, after all, elves they were dealing with—hardly on the level of a sarril, even Raven. He gave a sharp cry and leapt up, discarding his pack. Two pairs of running footsteps followed him while all around, other Cuind reacted to his shout and surged toward the Hwenti.

Wait, two? Whisper usually wouldn't...

The little elfling was running alongside Thorn, grinning wildly. Twist snorted as she scooped up the sticky glob that had almost hit him; now the Hwenti were definitely doomed. Or Storm was, anyway.

Most of the Hwenti turned tail and ran upon seeing the Cuind charging them—an understandable reaction—but Storm and Raven held their ground. Twist didn't pause even for an instant despite taking a lot of sticky slime to the face, instead catching Raven in a flying tackle strong enough to knock even the powerful red-haired Hwenti to the ground and immediately sinking his teeth into Raven's arm. Why punch when you could hold your victim down and draw blood at the same time?

Storm was no threat anymore; he was already blinded by an excellently-aimed ball of goop thrown by the youngest elf currently wearing the Cuind mark.

. . . . . .

"You idiots," Star muttered as she used her preferred method of stitching on Raven a few minutes later. "You absolute idiots."

"We got them pretty good," said Raven, who'd been bleeding enough that for once he'd decided to let Star do her job. "So many sticky elves." He was more perky than Storm had seen him in quite a while—which, even aside from revenge and so forth, made this whole thing absolutely worth it in Storm's mind.

"Still glad Pine and Thorn rescued us," Storm chuckled, his mood very much improved despite the questionable success of their attack. Thorn, indeed, had rather apologetically yanked Twist off Raven while his father fended off a few Cuind who were trying to do the same to Storm. "But they still have Swift and Fox. Ugh."

"Yeah, and now they're probably even more determined to keep them!" Moon, who hadn't heard about Storm's plan beforehand, glared furiously at them.

Storm wrinkled his nose at her; he'd already given up trying to get the sticky stuff off his face, never mind out of his hair. "They didn't seem very worried about escaping."

"Still, Moon's right," Star put in. "I don't want Swift around Twist."

"He's not that bad an influence."

"I don't trust him," she insisted. "Not as far as I could throw him. There's something wrong with that elf."

Storm waved that thought away. "We'll worry about them in the morning. The Cuind aren't going to eat them overnight." It was getting rather late already.

Moon wasn't happy about this at all, but Storm left Star to convince her that Swift would be safe with Whisper. He went and curled up between Raven and Winter, with the intent of staying up rather late whispering with them about how to get their tribemates back tomorrow.

. . . . . .

The next morning, Storm woke up alone.

At first he whipped his head back and forth in shock, trying to figure out where everyone had disappeared to. There were the remains of their campfires, and over there were the other tribes still going about their business, but the Hwenti were all gone.

Then he realized the Cuind were gone too.

"Twist," he growled.

. . . . . .

Click-click-click.

As one, the Cuind kicked their new companions forward, preventing them from being left behind as the group broke into a trot. There was a considerable amount of kicking from each elf, as the "former" Hwenti outnumbered the Cuind by about twenty.

"Can't we talk about this?" demanded a desperate voice behind Twist, who was running in the lead along with Whisper and Thorn. Raven and that one half-human were insisting on keeping pace with them, and some of the other Hwenti were just behind, including the speaker—the Hwenti healer, Star. Twist knew her surprisingly well, since she and Whisper were good friends and always met up along with the other healers at least once each all-tribe meeting. He had the distinct impression she didn't like him. As this didn't bother him very much, he ignored her question.

Thorn moved so close to Twist that there was a small chance of them tripping each other up. "You're not actually going to try and keep them...?"

That was a stupid question. Never mind Twist's doubts that most of the Hwenti (Raven and what's-his-name excepted) could keep up with his tribe for even a day, he didn't want to deal with their level of incompetency. Though he wouldn't mind keeping the elfling, if only Storm wouldn't hunt him to the ends of the world for her. He'd even take Fox; the little elf might not actually have trouble keeping up once he was in shape, if he had someone to run with and guide him. They'd find a use for him easily enough.

"Don't give me that look," Thorn scolded, hopping a ditch which caused one of the Hwenti to stumble (mostly because she was talking to her friend).

Twist made no attempt to wipe the expression from his face. He was so unlikely to try to keep the Hwenti that he might actually beg Storm to take them back if it proved to be necessary. He planned to disguise that desperation until he had well and truly won the prank war, however. Luckily, although Raven and enough of the others were more than willing to help him play a joke on their leader, he was sure few would actually want to stick around.

Although, if there were some way to keep the elfling...

And he might even let Storm stay, if somehow the striped elf tried.

But he wasn't about to say so.

Case in point, one of the Hwenti had stopped to investigate a flower on the ground, oblivious to his imminent abandonment. This was the big one with light brown hair like Thorn's. Twist rolled his eyes and doubled back to round him up, clicking to his tribe to kick the other dawdling Hwenti again. He didn't want this one distracted elf to bring the whole group to a halt.

He reached this elf at the same time as the Hwenti healer, who eyed him cagily as she tugged the elf's arm. "Pine."

Pine blinked at her. "Hmm?"

There was something wrong with this one, thought Twist. He click-click-clicked at them, and when the big elf only gave him a look of bemused interest, as though Twist were a half-forgotten acquaintance whose name he was trying to remember, Twist bumped into him hard. "GO." He needed to remember that these Hwenti didn't understand basic body language and clicks.

"Oh. Okay." Pine made to run again, but Star stepped in front of Twist.

"When are you going to let us go back?"

Twist tapped his fingers against his leg irritably, watching his tribe draw further away. It made him nervous how alone he was about to be with these two Hwenti. He shook his head and tried to step around the healer, but she blocked him. Whisper, where are you?

"Thorn is here," Pine said benignly, glancing over his shoulder.

Star brushed off his comment. "Yes, but still, we can't just all go off into the north without Storm. What if he can't find us? This whole thing has gotten so out of hand. Hasn't it?" she asked Pine.

"Umhmm," mumbled Pine, staring blankly up at the sky.

"He doesn't get a say," Twist muttered.

Star bristled. "What? Why not?"

Twist pointed at the curiously blinking elf next to her, thinking it should be obvious.

She glared at him. "I know you're up to something. It's you who won't let Thorn visit us hardly ever, isn't it?"

It definitely wasn't, but as Twist started to say so, he got the peculiar feeling that he'd corrected her before. He snapped his mouth shut and cast his gaze around for Whisper, who, of course, had kept running with the rest, not expecting her fellow healer to hold them up.

But someone equally helpful had just arrived. "Leave him be, Nana," said Thorn, stepping between them. "Come on, let's not fall behind."

Star was Thorn's mother? Twist realized with a shock. He must have known that at some point, but he'd long forgotten that when Thorn talked about his parents, he meant these two.

"Storm's going to find us, then?" Pine asked, directing the question at Star for some reason.

"You too, Ada. Go on." Thorn gave his parents a nudge, and they reluctantly set off to catch up with the tribe, which surely would take them several minutes. As he turned to follow, Twist caught his arm, a strained look on his face.

Thorn turned back questioningly and quickly recognized Twist's expression, and the way he was listing to one side. He checked that his parents were still moving away, then leaned close. "Bad timing."

"Almost worse," muttered Twist, resting heavily against the taller elf.

Thorn grimaced. "This is why I wish—"

His words cut off abruptly, not that Twist would have heard them anyway.

. . . . . .

Twist and Thorn caught up with the Cuind (and kidnapped Hwenti) again only a short time later, the former experiencing an unpleasant headache but still easily able to outrun the by this point rather tired out Hwenti. They caught sight of Storm approaching very soon after, waving a bit of white cloth in the air for some reason.

"You win," the Hwenti declared with a (slightly forced) chuckle once he'd come face-to-face with Twist amid the stopped tribes.

"Hi, Stripes," chirped Swift.

Twist, who was somewhat less enthusiastic than before due to his throbbing head but still committed to playing the situation to its greatest extent for the sake of future memories, raised his eyebrows as if to ask what Storm's point was.

"Right. Please?" Storm gave a long, resigned sigh. "Please may I have my friends back?"

Twist looked around at the Hwenti and inquired nonverbally as to what their opinion was.

With a sigh exactly like Storm's, Star went to stand behind Storm, pulling her husband by the hand. Pine looked like he might have liked a little more time with Thorn, whom he'd just struck up a conversation with, but let himself be pulled along. After them went the black-haired she-elf Star had been calling Winter, and the elfling's mother, pulling her daughter and husband along—though not before Whisper had hugged the girl and promised to teach her more at the next all-tribe meeting. The rest of the elves hesitated, though, looking to Raven, who was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Sheesh," said Storm. "Fine, here." He took out something—a belt, it looked like—from his pack and held it out to Raven, who took it cheerfully.

"Storm's a pretty good crafter," the red-haired elf told Twist as he led the rest of the Hwenti to Storm.

Whew, thought Twist, who'd had a moment's fear that the mousy-haired she-elf's slight hesitation meant she was going to try and stay with them for a while, like she had years ago when she'd left the Penni and the other tribes had made such a fuss. What was her name again? Ah yes, Rain. She seemed decently intelligent, but he didn't like the look of her half-human husband.

Twist smirked at Storm, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly and tossed him something tasty-smelling wrapped in cloth. "Here, your prize, I guess—you look like you could use it. Fair warning, it's a bit spicy."

Twist inspected the food closely for any signs of corn as Storm led the Hwenti away (giving Raven a good smack), then bit into it, recognizing it as one of the meat-herb things the Kindi made. Very tasty, a good prize since he usually kept too much distance from Hawk's elves to get any. He turned to go as well, snapping his fingers instead of clicking since his mouth was full, and his own tribe followed obediently. He'd barely taken a step when his body spasmed, causing him to stumble and choke on his snack.

Thorn gave him a good thump on the back, dislodging the bread from his throat. "Careful."

"Thanks, Ada."

If it encourages anyone to theorize about what's up with Twist, *part* of it is actually something you've probably heard of. Yes, it will be revealed eventually in a suitably dramatic manner.