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STONEHOWL HOLT: Elements: Sunrise Loss Useful A family good intentions Forgotten “Do you see? Do you see?” The excited chatter had awaken everyone in the holt. Wardance tightened his pony tail after checking on Skyshade and the twins, Dusk and Dawn. He crawled out from his den and looked at Highsun, who was trouncing around in the snow, pointing upward. Wardance looked up and saw snow covered tree tops. He looked back at Highsun. “What are you carrying on about?” Wardance asked. “The sun! The sunrise! It’s breaking through those bleak, grey, snow-bringing clouds at long last! We will be warm again! We will be warm! We will have the sun again!” Highsun was still trouncing about, excited. “I knew you were a strange one,” Wardance sighed and turned back around, heading back for his den. Before he crawled back in, he stopped, “And could you keep it down? We have cubs that are still sleeping soundly. If they awake, it won’t be me you will have to worry about, but my mate Skyshade.” Highsun seemed as if he was about to say something – then stopped. Wardance smiled, “Wise choice.” Highsun watched as Wardance crawled back into the den, before shaking his head and muttering, “Crazy, snow loving elves. I don’t understand the lot of them. Give me the sun! Give me the warmth! Give me the endless sands to venture across!” With the rising sun, the snow slowly began to melt. The elves used buckets crafted out of wood, to capture as much of the melting snow as they could; to either drink from, or use to water the plants that they would soon be planting once the sting of frost had passed. Everyone moved about, making themselves useful. Shadow watched from his den. They had suffered great loss. There had been Wildthorn, who sought vengeance after Purespring had been murdered by the human. There had been the gentle soul of Suncaller, whose mate threw him from the highest tree and let him fall to his death. Even Sungazer, Suncaller’s father, gave his own life against the trolls. There had been the Next Ones, such as Joybringer, whom Shadow had Recognized, and watched as even she died. There was even great loss to be felt for Talon, who had been the son of Lionheart, the Pride leader of the Pridewalkers, poisoned by his own father’s lackey. And there were so many others; none of them ever forgotten, because Shadow made sure to think of them, and thank them each day, for guiding him and the others. Despite the huge loss of life, Shadow looked down and saw a new family; one that had, for the most part, come together and learned from one another, adapting and adopting to the different things each tribe now brought to them. They still called themselves the Stonehowl Tribe, because they all considered Shadow their chief; but in truth, this was no longer even remotely close to what had been the true Stonehowl Tribe, and he was fine with that. This was so much more than he could have ever hoped for. This went far beyond anything he had dreamed, when he set forth with the best intentions in mind…