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krwordgazer wrote: Making/not wanting to make a decision Lifemating/lovemating without Recognition Summer heat An elf performing an action or gesture usually attributed to humans Jealousy A struggle for personal independence Ink colored skies, littered with the sparkling stars, and the watchful eyes of the Twin Moons did little to ease the unbearable drought-like heat of summer. A dry breeze blew through the wilting treetops. Below the treetops, Purespring confronted her brother, Shadow. “You can not tell me that I can not join in the hunt,” Purespring growled, placing her hands on her hips, her stance firm and strong. “You are not Chief.” “You know as well as I do,” Shadow countered, his disposition calm and collected, “that Wildthorn and I are very close. I tell him that you’re too young to join us in this hunt, and he will forbid you to come. And he will do so in front of the others. If you are smart, sister, you will simply let this one go. You can join us on a hunt at another time.” ** Hunters, ** The Send came from Wildthorn, Chief of the Howling Stone Holt. Shadow mounted his wolf bond, a black wolf, much like the color of his hair. He turned and looked at his younger sister, Purespring. She stared back at him, her eyes full of contempt. Shadow slowly turned his head, and his back, on her and rode to the meeting location for the hunters of Howling Stone. Arriving on the back of Starlight, Shadow brought his wolf to a trot next to Wildthorn. Wildthorn, younger than Shadow as well, turned his head. His light, blond hair and ice blue eyes looked at Shadow, eyes wrinkling in momentary confusion. “Where is your sister? She said she wanted to hunt with us tonight?” “She was not feeling well,” Shadow lied. He shrugged. “She can join us on another hunt.” At Stone Howl Holt, Purespring paced back and forth. “He’s so arrogant!” She blurted out to her closest friend, Foxhair. Foxhair, whose auburn hair had been the reason for her name, fiddled with a branch playfully, only half listening. “He’s just looking out for you,” she said, a smile on her lips, amused by the ants tumbling from the branch as she flicked it. “Watching out for me? I am as old as he was when he began hunting! And now, because he is the tribe’s best hunter, and the Chief’s best friend,” Purespring exasperated, flailing her arms about as she continued to pace. “Soul-Brother,” Foxhair corrected. “Soul-Brother! Soul-Mates!” Purespring yelled back, “It doesn’t matter! The point is, I am as old as he was when he began hunting! And yet he keeps me in his shadow – like his name! So big and looming over me ever since we lost our mother and father!” “He probably doesn’t want you to get hurt is all,” Foxhair said, looking at her friend for the first time, now that no more ants were visible on the small branch. “Well how is he ever going to know if I can hunt or not, if he never lets me go? I swear, I am going to Recognize Wildthorn, just so I have more say in this tribe, over Shadow!” Purespring muttered beneath her breath. “Or you could go the easier route,” Foxhair suggested, suddenly sitting up, the coy smile on her red, full lips, much like the smile she wore as she watched ants fall from the branch. “Which is?” Purespring asked, stopping for the first time, hands on her hips. “Trollblade,” Foxhair smiled. “What about him?” Purespring asked. “You can ask him where they’re hunting,” Foxhair suggested. “He’s always gathering metals and such and supplies for his forge. And he always talks about how they’re always hunting around where he gathers things. He can even take you through the troll tunnels to where ever is closest to where they’re hunting.” Purespring thought of it for a moment. What Foxhair had proposed was true. Unlike most of the trolls down in the caves below them – Trollblade seemed tolerable – almost intelligent compared to the rest of his kin. And he had always been nice to them – because in exchange for fine weapons and jewelry – they had always brought him down fresh meat, furs, and other things he needed. “He will be mad,” Purespring finally said, after a long moment of debating it. “But you will have made your point,” Foxhair said, her playful smile never fading. The echo of the knock reverberated through the muddy domain. Trollblade opened his eyes, wondering who would be coming to the troll doors at this hour? Stroking his thick, black beard that had been streaked with colors of grey, he stood and yawned – stretching his fantastic muscles he had formed on his body from the endless hours of forging. As he opened the door, he muttered, “Wildthorn if this is you and you’re drunk on dreamberries again…” Trollhammer’s words stopped there. “Purespring,” he said, his voice softer now. “Please. Come in.” Purespring bounced within the cave, pulling out a small gift for Trollhammer – something she had noticed that humans had often done when they wanted a favor of the other. Trollhammer took the small stone that had crudely been shaped like a heart, but hands, not magic. He looked at it a moment longer than looked at her, “What’s this?” “A gift,” she said, her hands behind her back, her cheeks flushing red. “What for?” he asked, raising an eye brow. “What do you need?” “I need your help, Trollhammer. I need you to lead me to where my brother and the tribe hunt at night,” Purespring said. “Shadow would disapprove of it,” Trollblade answered, knowing Shadow’s stance on Purespring’s hunting. “I want to prove to him, I can do it,” she said. “And I need your help.” Trollhammer sighed. He could not explain it but there was something about Purespring. Something he… loved. A corner smile formed on his lips, “Of course I will help. Come this way, I will take you to the exit that leads closest to the hunting grounds your brother prefers.” The field had only one creature grazing in the dying grass. A boartusk of medium size, and a great deal of trouble if it charged. Shadow sent to the others to be ready to move in for the kill, using the wolves to herd the creature into the waiting weapons of the hunters. ** Be prepared to move fast, ** Shadow sent. ** These boartusks give you no time for second chances.** ** On my mark, send the…** He had sent, but then stopped. Three arrows, in rapid succession struck the boartusk between the eyes. The creature let out a squeal, but never moved. Instead, it fell over, surprised by its sudden death. The succession of three arrows was something that Shadow had done; and only one other knew the trick. ** Purespring!** Shadow sent, furiously. And answering his call, she leapt down from the branch above. “Sister! What got into you? You could have got killed! You could have gotten one of us killed!” Shadow snapped. “I could have,” Purespring replied, walking towards the dead boartusk. She turned half way, facing her brother. “But I didn’t.” “How did you even get this close to us? I should have caught your scent,” Shadow continued to yell. “And yet you didn’t,” Purespring smiled. “I am a resourceful hunter. It is time you recognize me for my skills that you have taught me.” “She’s got a point,” Wildthorn smiled. “She did get the drop on us, and the boartusk. Sure, she took the fun and risk out of the hunt by killing it before we got it to run towards us – but there’s no denying she takes after you, Soul-Brother.” Shadow stared furiously at his sister, who was smiling from ear to ear. That night, after the feast and the celebration of Purespring into the hunting party, Wildthorn approached her. “I’m impressed,” he said matter-of-factly. “With my hunting?” she said, coyly. “Yes, and the way you handled your brother,” Wildthorn chuckled. “Not many have the nerve to stand up to him as you did.” Perhaps it was the dreamberry wine. Perhaps it was her joy of being accepted as one of the hunters. Perhaps it was the thrill of the hunt. Or perhaps it was just so she could get one more thing over her brother. But Purespring suddenly leaned forward and kissed Wildthorn. Their dreamberry soaked lips locking tightly. Between them, an electrical snap occurred and a passion that could not be suppressed unleashed itself. Her legs wrapped around him, as he leaned her against the tree. From her lips, he kissed her neck, even as she removed her top. The kissing only increased the passion, fueled the fire, and slowly two bodies melted into one, and sank behind the shadow of the large tree. Together, their passion ignited a heat that shamed even this ruthless summer heat. Shadow watched from a distance and shook his head. “Pucker nuts,” he muttered. "At least they're not Recognized..."