© 2002-2024 Ruth and Heidi
Part 2

"Where's Dizzy?" he asked the elder. "Did you finally decide to give him reprieve?"

Snapjaw shrugged at the question. Looked to him as if Wildlight were searching for something to talk about. **I do not know. I decided we needed a night away from each other.** The elder glanced at the treetops above them. **The forest is not burning down, so he is probably with the other cubs.** Probably making a mess, he thought as he dropped his gaze to the entrance of his treeden. He squinted but couldn't see any new ants making their way into his home.

Wildlight grunted again. But as his mouth spoke, his mind wandered from one thought to the next. He was glad that Dizzy wasn't around. Something, that ever-present something that seemed to have taken up residence in his gut, told him that whatever was going to happen might not be pretty. Best for a cub not see such things.

And, with that, thought, he changed the subject completely. "You were missed at the celebration tonight," he began. "I think Darkstone had a gift of some sorts to give you, or had been looking for you, at the least."

He paused a moment. "I had gone to pick some of Traildust's dreamberries and I'd thought I saw you heading back to the Hurst through the forest. I couldn't figure out why you weren't using the path or why you would't say you were there. But turns out it was the dreamberries talking."

He glanced at the elder, studying the elf's features with scrutinous emerald eyes, looking for some sign, some change of expression. "I'm not the expert on dreamberries that the others are. And I'm finding I don't care to eat many of them now. But Wren told me once that there's a reason for whatever dreamberries make you see. And I'm trying to figure out why they made me see you in the woods."

At the mention of Darkstone and gifts, Snapjaw frowned. Why was one of the newcomers looking for him? He wanted nothing from the strangers. Was that the same one who had woken the Holt at twilight with offerings of a treehorn from the tribe's own forests? And she had goosed him mentally as he left the Hurst to go hunting. Rude, cheeky pup.

The ancient elf let the information slide without comment as he listened to the chief talk of dreamberry dreams. One whiff was enough to tell that Wildlight had enjoyed plenty of the berries that evening. And now the chief was fishing for something. Snapjaw wasn't going to be hooked. He folded his arms over his chest, then raised one hand to scratch at the side of his scruffy chin-beard. **I was in the forest earlier, carrying my longneck honkers. And the fastest path to my den is not along the usual paths, especially when Timber leads the way. But I did not notice you.**