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[quote="krwordgazer"] - A drunk named Lilac - A bloodstained weapon (whether sword, dagger, horns, fangs, etc) - changing one's mind completely - A hug - Victory [/quote] ______________________________________________________________________ Flashes. Fire. Ice. Searing hot that was freezing cold. Weapons drawn. Crimson mud. Blades of grass, that turned into blades of steel, stained with blood, dripping, everywhere.... Shadow sat up suddenly, beads of sweat dripping from his head. “Foxhair,” he muttered. “Foxhair.” “I am here, my love,” Foxhair jumped to Shadow's side. “I am here,” she reassured him. His eyes were wide, looking around. “Where? Where am I?” “The Pridewalkers,” Foxhair explained. “Don't you remember?” Shadow shook his head. His body was burning up with fever, but he could not stop shaking from the shivering cold he felt. “Barely,” he admitted. “I remember... humans.” “Taken care of,” Foxhair smiled, brushing back his matted hair. “High Ones,” he looked at Foxhair. “I didn't...” “No,” Foxhair smiled. “Stillbreeze has been taking care of things.” “Stillbreeze?” Shadow looked confused. “Stillbreeze?” “Yes,” Foxhair smiled. She was glad to see Shadow at least semi-coherent now. “She has done well in your absence. Her strength emerged when we needed it most.” “Wurik,” Shadow said suddenly remembering seeing his former human ally. “He was... with the humans...” “Leading them, yes,” Foxhair nodded. “They're fine.” Shadow heaved a deep sigh. He put his arm around Foxhair. “The nightmare is over. She's gone. Gone forever. I am... finally free.” He held Foxhair close and wept into her bosom. “I have let her go.” He pulled back slight and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Now I am yours, forever.” Foxhair did not know what to say. She had longed to hear those words. And now that they had come – she did not know how to react. Vineweaver sat down next to Stillbreeze and smiled at his mate, who in turn returned her warm smile. “News is Shadow is recovering.” “He is?” Stillbreeze smiled. “By the High Ones, that is good news.” “Indeed,” Vineweaver nodded, turning his gaze from her to look at the night sky. “Perhaps we can move on with our quest, once he's fully recovered.” Stillbreeze looked at him strangely. “You seem unusually eager to suddenly get on with the quest.” “Something one of the Pridewalkers said,” Vineweaver admitted openly. “Said that one of their own has a … interest in you.” She watched him for a moment to see if he had been kidding. Seeing his expression had not changed she raised an eye brow, “Reyk, are you telling me you're... jealous?” “Jealous?” Vineweaver brushed off the allegation. “Just eager to be moving again. To see who among these Pridewalkers will come with us, as much as they seem to love to fight – and reclaim our home. The Palace...” Stillbreeze looked at Vineweaver, her expression growing dark. She looked at Echo and Windfetcher. “Can you two give us a moment?” she smiled at her children, even as she craddled Sunsword close to her breast. She waited until both of her older cubs were far enough away so that they could not hear. She looked at Vineweaver again. “The reason I am so excited to hear that Shadow is recovering is... so that I won't have to act as Chieftess. There's something... something you should know. I have... changed my mind. Vineweaver, what do you think of... staying here?” “Staying here?” Vineweaver was astonished. “Why would we stay here? We have to reclaim our Palace! The Palace of the High Ones.” “It will be a war,” Stillbreeze said, speaking softly. “There will be blood. Death. What will we do with our cubs? Echo and Windfetcher perhaps could fight... but what of Sunsword? I could not fight as long as I have him. Nor would I trust him to the Pridewalkers, without me watching closely.” “You're suggesting we... leave our tribe and remain?” Vineweaver could barely speak the words. He looked at her strangely, “This has nothing to do with... him, does it?” “Him?” Stillbreeze looked at Vineweaver. “Him who?” “Spearclaw,” Vineweaver said, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Oh, is he the one that's 'interested' in me?” Stillbreeze smiled playfully. “No, it has nothing to do with him,” she added when she saw Vineweaver did not share her amusement. In the tree above them, Branchsnapper smiled in the shadows. Victory was already assured. He slithered away in the dark of night. “I assume all is going according to plan,” Lionheart asked with a wide grin, two fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “It is, my Sire,” Branchsnapper bowed. “It will be just as easy as the time we took care of that drunk, Lilac...”