Day 33: Waiting and Worrying

"Yes, Mahrak is-" Choice stuttered to abrupt silence as Keleero's open-sending hit him. They'd lost people. Again. Oh no. No, no, no.

Blinking back tears, Choice forced himself to answer the new elf. She didn't deserve to have to comfort a strange after having just been brought somewhere new without warning and he hated to act so upset in front of Milo. Cubs, however close-to-grown, shouldn't have to comfort adults either. "I-I'm Choice. You are in what we call Beacon Call Holt because of that magical stone there that somehow brings elves here. Mahrak and Longsleep are here, yes, though not here. They're..." He trailed off, glancing at the cave entrance, shut tight with furs and leather covers, which still did little do muffle the blizzard raging outside.

Choice did his best to calm himself down. Those lost from the Sleeping Chamber had merely been brought somewhere else, just as they'd once been brought here. They were surely fine. It was sad he'd likely never see them again, but the people he should worry about where out in the harsh snow and wind outside. He gulped against the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.

He also sent a quick glance Spotfur's way. She seemed to be muttering to herself, but it was too quiet for him to hear and he suspected he wouldn't have understood a word even if he had heard her.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say to Nightbird at last, doing his best to keep things together. "This is not a good night you've arrived, I'm afraid. But we are safe in here and your wolf is welcome. We have cubs of larger wolves, as you can see, and we have my dear maned-wolves too. This young elf here is Milo, and this is..." Oh dear, how did he introduce Spotfur? Would she be offended if he called her that. He couldn't for the life of him recall the name she'd given them.

The young wolfrider heard the unfamiliar mindvoice and stilled, brow wrinkling in confusion, a frown starting to pull the corners of her mouth down. What did any of that mean? Did people leave here the same way they arrived - abruptly, accompanied by that strange, bright, pulsing light? A cold sensation prickled down her arms and she wondered - was Mahrak still around? Had he vanished the same moment she'd arrived? High Ones help me, if I spend the rest of my life chasing that blasted cat-elf...

The dark elf - Choice, he'd said his name was - was visibly upset, and visibly trying not to be. She wasn't the best at comforting people, much less people who were probably older than her, but she offered him a reassuring smile anyway. "Lazybones won't bother any of your bonds; he'd need far more motivation to be fussy," although as she watched the old wolf wander around the room, tail nearly a blur of excitement as he scented Longsleep, she mentally remarked that she hadn't seen him this motivated in...well, likely his whole life. Certainly not in a handful of turns, as he was aging.

"She...she doesn't have a name?" She pushed a lock of raven hair behind one ear curiously, trying not to stare at Milo or Spotfur, as the others were calling her. "I'm sorry, that's rude."

Nightbird has also noted the strange language they seemed to be speaking; it wasn't anything she recognized, and it sounded so...different. She watched Lazybones as he continued searching, going to the passage out of the Beacon Room, whining and looking back at his bondmate imploringly. ::Cat this way. Were here. Here somewhere.::

She responded in slight admonishment, ::Choice said they aren't here here. Can't just go wandering about looking for them. It's surprisingly cold right now. Maybe we wait for someone to show us around instead of being nosy.::

He whined and then plopped down on the floor with a whuff of indignation, offering no more comment.

Choice gave a laugh he knew sounded more nerves than cheer. "As you can hear, Spotfur has a name, but I fear my memory is not up to the task of repeating it yet." He really didn't want to go changing anyone's names on them, but each time his mind tried to recall what Spotfur had said she was called, the name only got to "Ess-ell" and then wandered off into nonsense he was sure was incorrect. "Oh, do you perhaps speak her language? Most of us here share words, but a few of us speak others, and as you can tell, our dear cat-elf friend here mostly speaks elsewords."

He was rambling. He bit the inside of his cheek, once, sharp enough to almost draw blood, and forced himself calm.

"Your bond-friend seems right at home," he tried again when he knew his voice wouldn't break. "Please, sit and warm yourself by the fire. Are you hungry? We've been so busy worrying about our hunters out in the storm and these pups who need feeding, we've not started a meal yet, but I'm sure we can find something quick if you wish for food."

This was the moment Oddspot chose to enter the Beacon Room, gently carrying the cheetah-kitten she'd come to think of as hers. Her own kittens long gone, never grown, her body had set about adjusting to motherhood once more, which had drawn her from sleep and toward the sound of crying young. While definitely more cat than elf, Oddspot had always been less tuftear than her litter mates. With far too much milk for one fairly grown kit to drink, it seemed only right that she seek out other small creatures who might need her - and these seemed to be just that. Strange kittens but still fuzzy and alive and clearly hungry.

Choice watched in astonished silence as No-Sting's bond-friend wandered in and carefully placed the cheetah kitten she'd more or less adopted in a warm pile of furs before heading over to groom the hungry wolf pups, purring and arranging herself to offer them milk. Dancer and Sneak, unlike Choice, seemed to immediately understand what they should be doing. With Oddspot strangely leading the way, the two maned-wolves settled down to form a circle with the tuftear, Milo and Spotfur, giving the wolf pups a circle of warmth to dwell in as they hopefully figured out there was milk to be had now.

"Well," Choice managed to say, eyes wide. "That was unexpected."

OOC: Likely not a long-term solution for the dire wolf pups since lynx are far smaller than a grown dire wolf, but it'll hopefully tied them over until a more permanent solution can be found

Nightbird listened in rapt fascination, especially when the strange elf interjected what the young elf assumed was her name.
"Essel -" Her mouth didn't want to wrap itself around the strange combination of sounds, but she tried anyway. It was all she could think to do. "Ess-el-too-"

Her nose wrinkled in frustration. Trying to remember the strange sounds, and not being sure what they meant, was mounting her irritation. At Choice's question, she shook her head sadly. "I don't speak the language she does - the sounds are so different, I wouldn't even know where to start."

Settling next to her bond, she rested a hand on his head and scratched behind an ear affectionately. "I'm okay right now," she responded to the question about food. "I appreciate it, though."

She watched Oddspot enter, fascination overwhelming frustration. The kitten in the lynx's mouth was certainly not hers, but she seemed to treat it like it was. Even with the fire, she was beginning to feel the cold. Her tribe dealt with white cold, but not like this.

Rubbing her arms with her hands, she reached for the pack that usually lay across her wolf friends rump, and realized it was gone. Her face blanched, realizing that meant her bear pelt was gone - and her needles.

Almost frantically she started searching the wolf, in spite of the packs obvious disappearance.

"Oh, no nonono..."

OOC: Sorry for my long, long absence - work and health issues got in the way.

IC:

Choice did his best to keep himself under control. The others would surely be back. Those who'd disappeared must have appeared back at their own, old homes. Surely they would be happy and safe wherever they'd ended up. Surely.

"Now, eh, Nightbird was it? Tell us-" but the new elf's sudden panic cut that question quite short. Frowning, Choice's eyes automatically darted around the cave, searching for danger or at least something out of place. "What's wrong?"

He had the presence of mind to gesture at SL2657F to indicated there was no threat - or at least try to communicate this with is body language - and to send a quick, ~**Can you see what's wrong?**~ lock-sending to Milo while keeping most of his attention on Nightbird.

The dark-haired maiden took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. It was such a silly thing to be worrying over, after all, she'd just been transported by a giant, glowing...thing to some completely different world that apparently nobody was from. That was more important.

Milo's tone was gentle, and it helped her calm some, although she still felt the twisting in her stomach. Her needles were incredibly important to her, and she had no idea how to make more - or if anyone knew how to make more, here.

With a sigh, she flopped back against the wolf who snuffled at the top of her head in concern, bumping his large nose under her arm until she gave into his insistence, half-burying her face in his fur. "No," Nightbird moped. "I'm pretty sure it's gone. Unless someone has spotted a large, brown bear pelt anywhere."

With a sigh, she offered them all a small smile. "I'm sorry, I'm usually at least a little calmer than this, this whole thing has me rattled."