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STONEHOWL: Having endured an attack by humans, Shadow found allies within some of the humans, and it had only been those who followed their shaman, the Bone Dancer, who sought to wipe out the Elves. In a fight, that seemed to favor the humans, the tides of battle turned when the trolls joined in the fight against the humans; knowing that the humans would attempt to drive them out next. The Bone Dancer was killed by Vineweaver, who had suffered unimaginable torture at Bone Dancer’s hands. Wanting to leave the tainted memories behind, Shadow led his tribe on a quest to find others like themselves. In their journeys they found the Next Ones (Children of the High Ones), Pridewalkers, and others – and in the end, Shadow led them to the Palace of the High Ones. Believing he had found everything his heart desired, the home of his greatest ancestors, Shadow soon felt the urge to return to the woods; return to what he knew was home. He discovered, it’s not the Palace that makes it home; but it’s what the heart makes the home. Now Shadow has led some of his tribe back to the woods, near the Palace, where other elves from other tribes, also followed; either curious to see more of the world, or inspired by the leadership they saw in Shadow. Elements: Storytelling A Box First Day of Spring Leaping The first days of spring had arrived. The snow was receding, much to Highsun’s joy. Shadow looked at Highsun as he walked around the holt, looking for any ray of sun that broke through the maze of branches and leaves. “I don’t understand how any of you don’t shrivel up and die. The sun is the life giver.” “Tell us about your tribe then,” Shadow said, jumping down from a branch he had been laying on. “You have often complained about the changing seasons here. I can barely imagine a land where there is no seasons.” “It’s wonderful,” Highsun said, with a smile. “Let me tell you a story about my tribe. For the Oasis Tribe, we did not live in one place long. There was no sense to life – just being stagnant. There was always the urge to move, to discover, to explore. But we stayed within the Wastelands. There, there is no grass – and the trees were different – tall, thin, no branches, like these – just enormous leaves that grew at the top. The trees were markers for where they might be water – or what is called an Oasis - a fertile spot in a desert where water is found, for those that don’t know what an Oasis is. We lived off the prickler-plants, that held water within them, and whatever animals that we came across – whether snake or rabbit. Because food was so hard to come by, and the desert was unforgiving, many would perish – but we would not mourn them. For they would be left where they died, so that the sands could claim them and their bodies returned to the land that bore them. This also ensured that our tribe was strong, for only the strongest males and strongest females survived, ensuring that the strongest of the genetics within us carried on forward.” “You never thought of venturing beyond the Wasteland?” Vineweaver asked, leaning against a tree. “There was no need,” Highsun replied, “The Great Walls boxed us in within the Wastelands.” “Until we heard ‘The Call’,” Sandstorm added, who had also been from the same tribe.