Stonehowl Links Stonehowl Holt's information is hosted on Tawmis' website. You can help ease the burden of bandwidth by making a donation through Payapl.

[quote="krwordgazer"] -a wound -a dance -living dead -cooking -whistling leaves -insanity [/quote] Shadow inhaled deeply. The scents of the new woods poured through his senses, coursing through his body, pounding through his veins. The sensation was euphoric. He was finally away from the four walls of the Palace that seemed to close him, closer and closer, each passing moment, each passing day, until it had become almost impossible to breath, trapped behind her four, white, cold walls. Shadow slid off of Mooneyes, and looked around. His eyes scanned every corner and deep into every shadow that surrounded the massive tree he had stopped at. “Here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his entire body trembling uncontrollably with excitement. “This is where we will make our new home.” He turned and helped Windfetcher off of Mooneyes' back. Windfetcher slouched against the massive, midnight colored wolf, whose white eyes appeared to be twin moons. “I miss Glimmer,” she pouted, her lip extended. “Iannaira remained at the Palace,” Shadow answered. “It's not Iannaira I miss,” Windfetcher huffed, “It's Glimmer.” “They're one and the same,” Shadow said, turning his attention on Windfetcher. He had hoped that everyone would come here fresh, clean, happy; a new beginning. Shadow knelt down in front of Windfetcher, his hands on her shoulders. “What is it that is really bothering you, little chieftess?” “That's just it,” she said, looking sad, “how will I ever be chieftess if I don't have my own wolf bond?” Shadow smiled and looked around him. “Little Chieftess,” he said, patting her on the shoulder as he stood, “rest assured, you will have a wolf friend, when your time to become chieftess is here.” “How can you be so certain?” she stormed after him, her footsteps heavy. “Even if there is no wolf in these new woods,” Shadow smirked, “your determination will bring the wolves to you.” “You!” a voice suddenly hissed. Foxhair sprung back, the voice having come from directly behind her. She held her cub tight in her arms. “You,” the guttural voice continued. “You, who told them the secret!” the figure stepped out of the shadow. Shadow's hand immediately went to the sword at his side. “Human,” Shadow growled. “You speak my language too clear to be just any human. How do you know the elf tongue?” “Speak it?” the human, whose egg shaped head seemed to bob loosely on his own neck, as if it might suddenly roll off. Evil, sinister, twisted, eyes stared intently; insanity dancing to and from, from somewhere deep inside the human's mind. “My name is Radarp,” the human said, as if it should mean something to Shadow. “You were with Wurik's tribe,” Shadow guessed. “Yes,” Radarp nodded, his head swaying about. “Wurik hoped to bring peace with you all... but the Bone Dancer was right... You twisted the woods... you bent stone... shaped them... made them bend to your will... you perverted the land... I knew! I knew! I knew about the Palace! I knew because my father, and his father before him, and his father before him... We all shared the secret... we knew where it was … One day... we would go back... We would go back and unlock the magic to shape stone... to shape wood... to take it... and fly into the sky... and leave... as you and your kind had come...” Shadow put his sword away. Clearly this human would pose no threat. He had been driven insane by the endless solitude he had found in the woods; searching for the Palace. He was close. The tale his father, and his father before him, and so on – they must have kept a very detailed description of where it was for this human to be this close. “What are you doing here, human?” Shadow asked. “Searching for the Palace... for the Secret... I left Wurik... left them all behind over sixteen seasons ago...” “Sixteen Seasons,” Shadow was surprised. For sixteen years this human has wandered, and come very close, to the Palace. “We should kill the human,” Highsun, from the Oasis Tribe said, pulling out his curved blade that gleamed under the moon and stars. “No,” Shadow said, extending his hand onto Highsun's blade, and forcing it down. “I will not start our new home in bloodshed.” “He's too close to the Palace,” Sandstorm, also from the Oasis Tribe, added. “What if the human finds it and brings other humans with him?” “He's been traveling for sixteen seasons,” Shadow said, keeping a weary eye on the human. “Even if he found the Palace and managed to find his way back home, he would find no one there waiting for him. The Bone Dancer he referred to, split his tribe of people in half, and in fighting broke out. The Bone Dancer, and those who followed him perished in the fight; Wurik, and the few other survivors that chose to follow him left shortly before we had, to find other humans. And they did, near a tribe called the Pridewalkers. Wurik and his men have no interest in the Palace.” “What if he finds others like minded?” Freefall, who hovered above the ground, asked. “I have very little dealings with such... filthy creatures such as humans and their short lives... But if this one is to be a basis for judgment, I see no threat... only... sadness.” Vineweaver came to stand behind Shadow, “We can't just let him go, my Chief.” “That's exactly what we're going to do,” Shadow said, turning slightly. Shadow turned back towards the human, “Everything about you makes me sad. The lies you have let yourself believe. The madness of loneliness that has consumed you and devoured your sanity. There is a wound in your heart that is deep, and bleeds blackness into your body. You have allowed the madness to sweep over you, claim you, so that you have forgotten who you are. Who you truly are. You have become a slave to a vision that was instilled into you, so that nothing else matters. The Bone Dancer was a liar. Wurik saw it. Many others did. Others did not. And they paid dearly for it. Find a lake, a river, with calm waters, and gaze deep into those waters, and look into your own eyes. What you will see is a living dead; someone alive on the outside, but dead inside.” Shadow took a step forward. “The Palace is that way, seven days, seven nights journey on foot. You will find it full of my people. You will also find that whatever 'secrets' you think were to be found, are not there. We have shaped stone, wood, and fire through the magic that we were born with. Not by some power given to us by the Palace. But you – you won't believe it until you discover that truth for yourself. A child, who does not listen to an elder, when they warn the child that the fire is hot; still that child – still you – insist on placing your hand within the fire – and getting burned, to see when it's already too late, that you have been told the truth. So march that way – march to the Palace. Uncover whatever secrets you think there are to be found there. But know this human,” Shadow added, his tone growing dark, “those halls are full of the souls and spirits of those that your kind brutally murdered because of a primal fear that drove them to slaughter my people. The Palace will not be taken by surprise again. You may find yourself unwanted in the Palace, and greeted by those who are less forgiving than I.” Shadow folded his arms across his chest, “At one time, this world may have been yours. But you will have to make do with us living in your world. At one time, I believed I wanted to find the Palace. I wanted to leave. To be gone. I was sick and tired; so sick and tired of feeling as if I was unwanted here. But you know something,” Shadow said, “when I was ready to leave; that's when I found that I was needed. I was wanted. They're here,” he gestured behind him, “because they want me here. They want to be with me. They wanted to follow me. I am needed. I am wanted. And even if this is 'your world' – you will find that I am not leaving. I will stay here. I will remain. I will prosper. And it may drive you mad. But I will not leave,” he emphasized the final words. “Now go,” Shadow pointed towards the Palace. “Go and finish your Quest.” “Grethen will reclaim these lands,” Radarp protested. “Let you god come,” Shadow spat, “for he will find me ready to fight him and send him back, bleeding and whimpering.” Radarp seemed as if he was about to say something more, but something told him, despite the madness that had consumed him, that he had already over stayed his welcome; and that though this 'Shadow' commanded them; some of those that followed were too new to fully respect Shadow, and may act on their own; better, Radarp told himself, to find the Palace and unlock the secrets! He was close! And the foolish elf had told him the exact direction to go! Within the Palace he would find the Secret to bringing Grethen's glory to the world once more, and cleanse the land of the pollution, taint and perversion that the elves had brought. Whitefeather, another from Skymountain came to flutter next to Shadow. “Forgive me, my Chief, but you pointed the Palace's direction to the human?” “I did,” Shadow said, petting Mooneyes, whose black fur was on end. “Can I ask why?” Whitefeather asked, her gray hair fluttering as lightly as she was; her blue eyes, quizzical. “Because,” Shadow answered, “if he even makes it to the Palace, he will find that there is nothing for him. Nothing at all. No magical powers. Nothing. His entire life quest will have been for nothing.” Jagged, another new elf that had decided to follow Shadow, smiled as he juggled his dagger in the air. “Let him find the Palace, and feel the utter despair when he realizes his entire life has been a waste. I like your style.” Shadow shook his head, “I would have given everything I could so that the human would never have had to hate us as much as he does,” Shadow shrugged, “but some humans cling to ignorance simply because they don't understand.” Shadow shook his head, “Let us forget him, for he is not worth the seconds it costs us to even think of him. Vineweaver,” he gestured to the large tree, “will you do the honors?” Vineweaver stopped and looked at the tree. “I hate humans,” he muttered. “I know you do,” Shadow said, looking side ways at the treeshaper. “Especially after all you endured at the hands of the Bone Dancer.” “Right,” Vineweaver nodded. “But I will hand it to that human,” he went on to say after a moment. “What's that?” Shadow asked. “We have always shaped the woods, the stone, to be our dens,” Vineweaver answered. “Maybe this time, why don't we just accept nature for what she has given us and live here as it is?” Shadow smiled, and put his hand on Vineweaver's shoulder, “I can live with that.” That night, they howled and danced, and celebrated the new land. They hunted, they cooked, and they gathered whistling leaves, often used for when someone got ill. The land was different than their original home. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of new scents; new trees, new bushes; new berries, new animals. But still; it was nice to know that there were many things that were much like their original home. Especially for Windfetcher who suddenly perked up when in the distance, she heard the song of new wolves.