Cike's Days Off



  • March 16th

    Cike massaged his throbbing cramped hand and sighing at the leather bound sheaf’s of paper before him. He took up the quill and gladly deposited it in the ink well. Rubbing his eyes with his clean left hand he blew out the candle and crept towards the bed exhausted; as if he had fought an army of undead.

    Lilin could barely contain her grin as her arms sought to embrace and strip her love of his breaches and shirt. As she snuggled against him her lips seeking his neck she purred for him taking her time before posing the question he knew was coming.

    “It is finished? Can I see?”

    Cike nudged her forehead with his chin hugging her gently, “Ah tis late my Panther my hand is cramped, my back sore, my eyes burn from the candle light, and I do think that the smell of ink has taken residence half way up my nose where twill stay for at least a tenday.”

    She held back a giggle but couldn’t help chiding him, “Excuses, excuses. Come on show me. I’ll let you see mine.”

    “My Love I am most tired can this not wait till the light of day?”

    She pouted at him and took a moment to think, he smiled apologetically at her. She swung her leg over his body and shifted to straddle him; the blanket sliding off her smooth body like silk. The moon light flowed through the thin window curtains and caught her body as she rubbed up against him arching her back. She shared a wicked grin with Cike.

    “Are you THAT tired?” She shifted her weight ever so slightly and Cike could not resist reaching to embrace his love, their lips meeting as their bodies twined.


    Lilin kissed Cike’s cheek purring lightly. A smile crept across his face as his arm reflexively wrapped around her. His breath even and shallow she slipped from under his embrace and stepped from the sheets wrapping her robe about her as she moved quietly towards the small writing desk in her room.

    Glancing at her sleeping love she quickly whispered a short prayer to Bast for magical light shrouding the bright shine with her body as best she could from his eyes. Her hand traced the leather cover and she grinned mischievously before opening it up, and reading the childlike scrawled words.



    Once apon a time there was a Noble King who did enjoy the hunt much in his youth. He was a fine hunter and many people thought there was no ekale to his prowess.


    One day he did come across a wounded Wolf by the side of a ridge limping badly as a Bear krept closer to the bleeding wolf its mouth filled with foam and the craze of Malar in its eyes.

    The King had only with him bow and short sword; he planned to fell one deer and not over hunt. He watched pitying the Wolf but knew he could not take the Bear with so little.


    As the King turned to go he spotted Lord Nobanion in all his glory resting apon a rock lazy watching him. The Lion roared but no sound came from his throat but ekoed in the Kings mind.

    “Why do you not save that cub? I know your heart and it is pure with goodness, but you turn away from the poor Wolf cub?”

    The King blushed like a skolded child and stammered his reeson. Lord Nobanion just shook his head.

    “Those of Nobility, those who are strong should defend the weak, for tis our duty to protect them and lead them.”


    With that the Lord leap from the rock and made short work of the Bear safeing the wolf cub. The King shame faced locked gayzes with the Wolf and reterned to his kingdom.

    But stuborness took hold the King and he grew cold and angered at his own cowerdis. He tried to tell himself he was not a god as Lord Nobanion and could not have taken the bear as he was. His heart plunged into darkness and he stoped hunting ashamed.


    Many a years later the King did retern to the forest older and weekined with siknes he did think a hunt would renew him. But as he crashed through the brush coughing a hungery Bear did find him.

    He cursed his fowl luck and turned to run but twisted his ankle triping over himself. The Bear reered up and belowed his viktory over the fallen King. The King saw the irony and cried his misforchun.


    Just as the Bear raised its paw to swipe at the King a howl came from the ridge and a grey form leap apon the back of the Bear. With tooth and fang the Wolf clung and tore at the back of the Bear. The King watched in amasement. The Wolf could not hope to face the Bear but it was risking life and health for he.


    The Bear threu the Wolf from its back. The King saw his chance and thrust with his short sword cuting the Bears neck ending its hunt. The King made his way to the Wolf and cradeled it knowing it for the Wolf cub he did not save so long ago.

    Lord Nobanion’s words rung ones more in his head as if he stood on the rock and he a young King ones more.

    “Those of Nobility, those who are strong should defend the weak, for tis our duty to protect them and lead them.”


    The King cared for the Wolf raising it back to health and ever after hunted the forest and defending the week. With his Wolf companon the King brought peace to the land their adventurs spreading far and wide of their courage and strength.


    Lilin closed the book smiling at the story banishing the light Bast granted her. She was so proud of Cike, there were some spelling errors but he wrote a fine story and surprised her with some words he was able to spell without asking her help. As she rested her hand on the leather cover she sensed something behind her.

    She turned right into Cike’s hands as they pressed into the soft flesh of her tummy. She cried out in surprise as bubbles of laughter rose within her.

    “Cheater!” He stood before her wrapping his arms around her tugging her back to the bed. She squirmed under his arms giggling furiously.

    Between gasps she cried out, “I’m … not … sorry!”

    Cike finally paused in his tickles as her eyes started to tear and looked into her eyes concerned, “Truth tho, what thought you?”

    She smiled warmly up at Cike loosening her robe’s sash, “I loved it, and I’m sure the children will enjoy it as well dear. Thank you for doing it. I'm very proud of you.”

    She wiggled out of her robe and pulled Cike to her kissing him passionately as his arms wrapped around her.



  • January 22nd

    He walked calmly down the soft earth trail before him the Rawlins felt more encroaching the treetops thick blocking out the light. The Silence wrapped around him the crunching of leaves all he could hear. From the corner of his eyes he could spot shadows moving but when he turned to look nothing moved.

    A chill wind blew from the South West numbing his skin the smell nauseating him and all too familiar. Sound came rushing back to fill his ears with the moaning of his Undead Kin, his hand gripping his bow tighter. From the edge of darkness he could see them shuffling towards him spurred by the Lich. He cried out once and drew his bow back tears welling in his eyes.

    The trees shifted and changed bursting into flames, the Rawlins morphing into his home forest. He suddenly felt smaller and looked down at his hands. His arms were unmarred by his self inflicted scars, his hands soft and without the years of calluses. His kin were upon him when he looked up racking at him, as he tried to tear away from them, their dead fingers digging into his flesh and shirt. He brought his arms up to deflect their blows, his kin’s flailing buffeting against his weak arms.

    A voice echoed from the darkness chuckling, “Strike back. Knock down your Kin.”

    Raolly stood before him his head twisted sickeningly to the side mouth agape and frozen in his death scream, his flesh livid and drained of blood. His arms raised in some sickening parody of a marionette as he approached Cike. Again the voice echoed, “Strike back. He will hurt you.”

    He felt the blow rock him to the ground the darkness surrounding him. He wanted strength he wanted power. He opened his eyes and he was himself once again his youthful body gone the scars lining his arms. A sword lay at his knees, Raolly frozen before him.

    The voice chided him again, “You have grown, older now. Can you do it? Can you strike down your Kin now? You have the power.”

    Cike gripped the sword lightly in his hands rising. He never knew Raolly was so short; he was always so big, so tall, and so strong. His heart caught in his chest as Raolly’s broken head craned to look up at him. Pity welled up in him and his grip loosened in his hand. His kin crowded around him and he waited for the blows. He couldn’t do it, he knew them to be undead, he knew them to be suffering but he couldn’t do it. How could he strike his own blood?

    He shut his eyes tight and bit his lip, waiting for the blows. Heartbeats went by and the silence hung heavy on him. He opened his eyes to darkness his feet crunching fresh snow. The voice rang in his head dry and unfeeling, “Your Kin will kill you.”

    The shadows before him blurred as a black figure struck out quick. He felt his chest burn as two blades crisscrossed, biting through his armor his lifeblood flowing into his lungs. He coughed sputtering blood and looked into the cold hard eyes of Star. Her eyes glared at him with anger and vehemence. His voice caught in his throat, his face contorting in pain. He tried to croak why, but the pain and confusion paralyzed him.

    “I told you if you stopped again I would kill you.”

    The voice was not Stars but it came from her, her blades dripping his blood on the white snow. His body went numb as his mind reeled at this vision, the voice of Tala repeating in his head over and over. It filled and resonated in his ears a thousand times repeating and overlapping drowning out the sound of his own screams. Star pulled back her arm; her black blade covered in his blood raised and fell.

    Everything stopped in a heartbeat the hollow voice in his mind spoke once again dispassionately, with a hint of pity, “Your Kin will kill you.”

    The blade fell.


    He cried out cold sweat running down his body tears flowing from his eyes. His hand went to his chest immediately his heart racing and thumping madly against his outstretched hand. His eyes scanned the darkness and he spun around as the dark shape beside him stirred. The windowpane rattled as rain pelted against it the scent of wild flowers slowly bringing him to his senses and notifying him of his surroundings.

    Lilin rubbed her eyes and looked at him worried her hand touching him lightly on the back. The sheets were thrown off and he started to shiver the glow of the moonlight reflecting off Lilin’s worried face.

    “Cike? What’s wrong?”

    He cupped his hands burying his face in it, scrubbing at the already drying tears and sweat. He shook uncontrollably pinpricks forming along his chest and arms. He tensed against her touch and shrunk within himself. Lilin wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him pressing her cheek against his slick back, again calling to him.

    “Cike?”

    “… No-nothing … just a nightmare panther … just a nightmare …”

    She squeezed gently clinging to him.

    “Talk to me, tell me what’s the mater love.”

    He felt her warmth burning against him, his body felt cold and clammy in comparison. His shaking eased and he relaxed in her arms.

    “Ah twas but a nightmare; worry not.”

    She squeezed again, “Tell me.”

    He paused and swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully, “Ah I was walking in the Rawlins, and then it changed to my home forest. My kinsmen came from the darkness and started to attack I. Ah I was my young self again … at that time and they kept clawing at me and flailing at me, it was all I could do to defend myself. Ah I could not bring myself to fight back; I could not bring myself to strike my kin.”

    Why? The question came unbidden and pushed at the corner of his mind.

    She pressed her lips gently to his back and kissed him. He could feel her soft as they met his cold skin. He brought his hands from his face and touched her soft arms about his waist as she spoke into his back, her breath breaking across it like a gentle breeze.

    “It’s alright your safe now. Your Kin can’t hurt you here, it was only a -”

    He froze and stiffened at her words. She continued to speak but his mind recalled the echoing words in the dream. The dead voice echoed and pounded in his ears his mind fighting it. More questions arose unbidden and cried out to be answered. He grasped at answers but they only froze and sounded as hollow and empty as the voice in his dream.

    Tala would never- Star would never- His mind continued to battle itself; denial, truth, conviction, all of it blurring and crying out in his mind to be heard. He shut his eyes tight the headache drowning out the wind and rain feeble answers forming and thrown against the repeating questions. His hand came up to brush lightly against his chest as he tried to quiet the darkness of his mind. He pushed as hard as he could but the doubt and fear would not be quieted.

    “Cike?”

    He snapped back to the inn room, back to Lilin’s tight grip around his waist, back to the numbness he felt in his heart and body. He turned his neck and smiled slightly at Lilin and prayed his voice stay strong.

    “Ah you are right, twas only a nightmare. Ah forgive I for waking you, come let us go back to sleep.”

    “Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to talk about it?”

    “Ah I am well enough. Ah let us sleep, we have a big day tomorrow, we need speak with miss Tindra about the Talisman that helps her control her were form.”

    Lilin hesitated then nodded spooning him as they both laid back into the soft inn bed. She pulled the covers back up and pressed her face gently into his back lightly kissing it once more before closing her eyes and surrendering herself to sleep again. He listened to her soft breathing his eyes open and scanning the darkness of the room.

    He closed his eyes and Star in her fury flashed from the darkness striking out within a heartbeat. He opened his eyes to the cold quiet darkness of the room and sighed, his thoughts growing louder and louder in his mind. His vision blurred and a warmth traveled across the bridge of his nose, across his cheek, and melted into the pillow. He closed his eyes once again and surrendered himself to the darkness.



  • January 3rd

    He replaced the quill in the ink well and dropped his throbbing hand on the table. Lilin looked up from her book and smiled at Cike walking over gently resting her hand on his rubbing it. She kissed his cheek and picked up the sheet of paper before him and examined it.

    “That’s good enough for today, let’s see how you did.”

    Her eyes quickly scanned over his handwriting, already showing signs of improvement. She took another sheet of paper and wrote a couple of words out on it quickly and handed the list back to Cike. His eyes ran over them and ingested the corrections quickly.

    “That’s the correct spelling, practice them later with Charcoal and Vellum, but not now, let’s relax and read something and work on your grammar.”

    He nodded and pushed himself up off the carpet that covered the center of the small public library of the Bardic Collage. He flexed his aching hand as he walked over to her side as she perused the dusty shelves of the Library. Tomes of knowledge, bestiaries, compilations of poems, history; Lilin’s finger lightly tapped each of the leather bound covers passing over titles as Cike mouthed the syllables and pronounced each one. She smiled at his continued hard work and leaned in to kiss him gently before pulling out a random book her hand had fallen on.

    He patted down the carpet and rested his back against the hard stone wall as Lilin waited patiently for him to get settled. He crossed his legs and hugged Lilin into his lap wrapping his arms around her nuzzling her neck as she cracked the spine opening the book before them both. She bent back her head back and let him kiss her neck as she flipped the first few blank pages, and purred for him.

    “Ah what did you choose?”

    Her lips brushed his ears gently and whispered softly to him, “I don’t know you’re distracting me.” She giggled lightly and nipped his ear stopping his attack of her neck. He resettled and looked down at the book quizzically and read off the first few lines.

    “Thh-This is an ac- … ack …”

    “Account love, it means explanation. Ack-count”

    “Ack-count, of the findings of Altulos Rah- … Rah”

    “Rahhouen.”

    “The Bard and Mage of Candle keep. The his-tor-ry, Ah the history of the Nars Tribes has been passed down or-ale-ey. Ah or-ale-ey?”

    “It means they were passed down by in stories to each other verbally instead of saved on paper like this book.”

    He nodded and continued.

    “Th-oos-“

    “Thus, love.”

    “Th-us making it most diff-ick-cult to cr-eat an ack- an ack …”

    “Difficult, hard, and accurate, correct. Ac-cure-ate.” He nodded again as she pointed to the next word, “And that word is the same as the first word.”

    “Ack-count.”

    She smiled and turned the book towards her kissing his cheek before scanning the page before her.

    “It gets a little difficult here Hon, let me read to you for a bit try to follow along alright?”

    He rested his head on her shoulder and read after her.

    “Narfell, found far to the Northeast, is home to many heathens, thus are they by nature barbaric and violent in their ways. A nomadic people, tracking their past movements and history has been extremely difficult. The stories I have found and recorded have suggested that there were many tribes each following a totem animal as their god. How these barbaric humans could have survived on the divinity of simple animals completely ignorant of the major deities we serve will be the subject of another thesis that will follow the completion of my studies of the surviving nomadic Nar’s people: the Tribe of the Badger.

    “It should be noted that I have begun my research due to some rumors of great power here in Narfell. That these uncouth barbaric people would have such power seemed fabricated at best but I must admit that I was tempted by a bet of my colleagues. As it so happens there does seem to be a grain of truth to the rumors of great power. Closely guarded the leader of the Badger tribe wears a belt that gives him a constitution that no human should have, in truth I believe he could withstand the blows of a bloody Orc if he needed to.

    “The story behind the belt is that their totem god gifted their ancestor with it for their devout connection to nature. Stories they tell by the fire also suggest of other clans following other totem gods like this, with amazing gifts as well. Among those mentioned are the Fox and the Owl clan that were continuously at war with one another. I suspect that the leaders of these clans have similar items that give them the aspects of their totem god. But little evidence has been found as many of the tribes have fallen to the winds destroyed by war or moved farther north.

    “The eating habits of …”

    Lilin flipped the page and scanned the next her brow furrowing, “It gets a little dry after that, do you want to continue?” She craned her neck to look up at him.

    “Ah think you sir Jerr knows of this? Ah truth I am most interested to know if any followed a Lion. Ah think you here twas where my Lord was born.”

    Lilin smiled, “Cike it’s too cold up here for Lions. I don’t think this is where he originated.”

    He nodded slowly, “Ah truth you are most likely right. Ah but I wonder if not sir Jerr knows of these items. Ah I always hear him singing of the gods, but never do I hear him sing of these animal gods.”

    She nuzzles and kissed his neck gently, “Then why don’t you ask him next time you see him if he has ever heard of the Badger clan. The book said they were still around.” Lilin returned her glance to the book and flipped to the end and read a bit more, “It says that the author of this, Altulos Rahhouen, disappeared. The notes he left are the last account of his presence here in Narfell but that was over two hundred years ago.

    “I think he was an Elf it says he stayed with the Badger tribe for more than a generation and searched much of the land for artifacts and relics of the other Animal tribes. His last notes state that he was to check a cave with a Badger tribesman, but he never returned.”

    He grinned, “Ah I wonder if there was a wolf tribe. Ah truth tho I like not caves and such I wonder where this man did search. Ah and more importantly what did keep him from coming back.”

    “He probably got caught in a cave in or something, maybe he walked into the under dark and some Drow got him.”

    He stifled a yawn, and she smiled twisting in his lap to wrap her arms around his neck. Letting the book fall from her lap she whispered to him, “I think that’s enough for today lets head back to Jiyyd and sleep.”

    He smiled and nodded, as images of Animal gods danced in his head.



    • applauds *


  • December 24th
    ((before Lilin and Cike moved out of the Alliance arms inn))
    ((Disclamer: the story gets a tad over PG towards the end but it still remains in my mind in good taste))

    Lilin and Cike's Love

    He crept slowly through the darkness, more reflex and practiced motion than shear active thought. The wind whipped his body blowing from the west carrying with it the irony smell of blood and death. His body was weary from the long day. The snow fell lightly his feet making soft crunching sounds as he crossed the lightly covered field. As he neared the Alliance Arms Inn, his spirit brightened his pace quickening. Soon he would be in his Love’s arms; the thought warmed and gave him renewed strength.

    The warmth blasted him like fire; tingling his numbed cheeks. He shook the snow from his hair and rubbed his arms. He nodded to Hendry and made his way up. The floor boards creaked as he climbed the inn’s stairs gently turning the latch to Lilin’s room. He smelled her scent floating heavily in the small room they shared, his eyes slowly adapted to the weak candle she left out for him on the far side near the window.

    He stepped in and immediately dropped his pack lightly on the throw rug by the door stripping off his stealths; gifted to him by his brother Drelan. He pulled his night breeches from a chair and slipped into them as quietly as he could, keeping his eyes on the still form under the bed sheets.

    He didn’t want to wake her; she had most likely already stayed up late waiting for him, worrying. He couldn’t blame her for her concern he did die when he dared to venture with out her, and sad as it was he was beginning to believe Tala when she suggested that Lilin and her blessings kept him from death.

    He moved silently to the window and blew out the candle letting the darkness cascade over him. Before his eyes could adjust he slid himself underneath the covers, and moved to hug the still form. His arms squeezed fabric and feathers. Confused he pulled the covers off even before his lips formed the question.

    “Lilin?”

    As if summoning her by name, Lilin leapt from the shadow of the corner landing squarely on top of him. Used to the tackles of Kell he shrugged it off easily but still issued a gasp of air rushing out of his lugs as Lilin shifted her weight and sat on his legs. He shifted his elbows beneath him sinking them into the soft bed looking confused at his love’s form on top of him. She turned and looked over her shoulder at him grinning mischievously.

    Before he could protest Lilin started to rake his feet gently with her nails. She kneaded her fingers into the soft flesh of his feet and was instantly rewarded by his jerky movements as he tried to escape the pleasurable torture. The sensation welled up in him and broke against the thick wall 5 years in the making. He finally laughed.

    Tears formed and he laughed uncontrollably gasping for air. With Lilin on top of him he could do little against her attack as she mercilessly tickled his feet. Unable to take any more he reached up and attacked her sides gently stroking her ticklish spots. Both refused to give up and soon they both fell back on the bed, Lilin resting atop him, his chest heaving her up and down her hair tangled about her face and his.

    They both stared at the ceiling their bodies panting; sweat starting to form from their little game. He felt her heart beating through his chest almost matching his own. She craned her neck and kissed him gently on the chin. He weakly raised his arms to wrap around her as his lips moved to meet hers. She shifted and rolled on top of him her legs twining with his as she rested her chest to his their hearts slowly synching with each other.

    Her hands traced his arms aimlessly as they kissed again. He suddenly broke into another fit of giggles. She broke the kiss and looked quizzically at where her hand was; his wrists. She grinned mischievously and gently stroked it again pinning his arm down with her arm.

    “Ah please stop no more no more I give I give.”

    Lilin snuggled into his arms once again content with the work she had done already.

    “Ah truth you have caught me my panther, I did not even sense you in the corner of the room.”

    He squeezed gently and she purred for him resonating on top of his chest. He looked down at her and longed for her once again. He could barely contain his feelings, he wanted her so much. She raised her head from his chest in question before he realized he was holding his breath.

    “What is it Love?”

    His cheeks started to flush unable to keep back his growing emotion. He stammered, “Ah I … truth Lilin … I do love you … and um …”

    She gently rested a warm hand on his chest her breath cascading on his lips. The moon light caught the green of her eyes as she looked into his. Her lips pursed inviting.

    “What is it Cike?”

    He blushed again. He couldn’t help it; the warmth inside of him was rising, burning his cheeks. He shouldn’t be ashamed he knew it was natural but still. He had made a fuss about waiting until they were both ready. They both were ready, they discussed it earlier, but he couldn’t help it. She would only ever be the second woman he would have mated with, he was still unsure of himself even after being with Sil.

    Her blond hair tumbled down her face framing it. She pushed back her hair gently closing her eyes slightly before returning her gaze on him concern still etched in her face. His heart beat faster and he could feel hers quickening to catch up. He stammered again trying to pose the question right.

    “Ah I … I want … um … could we … I …”

    She smiled gently, it immediately calming him, their heartbeats synching once again. She placed a soft finger over his lips to keep him from speaking and replaced it with her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She broke the kiss and whispered softly to him her forehead resting on his.

    “Ready?”

    He just nodded as she sat up pulling at his hands and they faced each other. They both began to flush in the quiet stillness of the room. He quickly glanced at Aelthas’ door, and her knowing eyes caught the movement. She lightly shook her head and calmed him her hair tumbling about her chest.

    “He is at his Godmother’s. Nicahh watches over him.”

    He nodded again as she lifted the hem of her nightie pulling it gently over her head, letting it flutter to the ground beside the bed. A warm smile creased his lips as he took in his love, her beauty dazing him. He didn’t even notice as she moved to help him undo his night breeches. He quickly slipped out of them letting them drop beside her nightie. Again he gazed on her skin as the moonlight played across her reddening cheeks.

    He raised his hands to caress her face and she brought hers up to twine in his. His other hand traced lightly down her jaw and neck raising goose bumps along her body, though his touch was warm and gentle. His hand traveled down her supple chest and she gasped softly, leaning forward a bit, her lips parting slightly her eyes crying out for him. His hand finally wrapped around to grasp the small of her back. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers their bodies meeting her skin soft and warm.

    He lowered her down on the bed as she embraced him, her legs coming up to wrap around him, her hands pulling at his back. She accepted him arching her back purring into his ear as he nuzzled her neck, their bodies growing slick with sweat. Their hurried breath began rhythmically to match, pausing only to fumble with their passionate kisses as they twined their bodies.


    The sun started to peak over the Nars shedding its light on the sweaty couple as Cike collapsed onto the sticky sheets of the bed. She wrapped her leg across his her hand aimlessly tracing a random path on his chest as she slowly slipped into sleep content and exhausted. She snuggled against him as he ran a hand down her back issuing another purr from her throat. He sighed, relaxing, nestling her head on his chest and closed his eyes. It was more than raw lust or mating, it was love and he was overjoyed. He said a silent prayer to Nobanion and Bast, thanking them for blessing him with Lilin, his life mate.



  • December 7th

    The dream was so real.

    He stood within a grove of trees all about him darkness enveloped him and his senses failed him. He could not see he could not hear. Then the darkness lifted and the blur stood before him. It was a white stag graceful and beautiful. Its muscles rippled under its skin as it flexed to bound away. Its antlers were strangly smooth and gleamed like ivory, and Cike could tell if he touched them they would feel as soft as silk.

    The darkness took him once more and he waded through it struggling towards the Stag crying out for it to run. His step faltered as he tripped upon roots and branches that tore at him in his blindness.

    The darkness lifted again chasing after the stag moving like a black cat dashing and moving from tree shadow to tree shadow, the White stag bounding away.

    He made a quick prayer to Nobanion for strength and chased after him, the wind quiet, the trees still the distance hazy. Day and night melded and swept by like pictures in a book the sky contourting trying to choose between light and dark.

    He paused in his chase looking for signs of the Stag. He crouched low and read the tracks that constantly melted away reforming into something different. Bear, Wolf, Deer, Badger, Field mouse, Lion, Squirl, Chipmunk, Rabbit, Human, Elf, Orc, Dwarf, Hin, Panther, Spider, Dire Wolf, Boar. His mind tried to grasp as many as he could before it was lost and he continued on his way.

    Blood filled the air the irony scent strong in his nose, and fear started to grip him. He looked down at his hands the familiar tingle that told him he could heal was not there, something was wrong. A voice filled his head as his eyes swept the landscape for the White Stag.

    "You know me. Did you think I would abandon you?"

    Cike looked down at his hands again biting his lip.

    "Why do you doubt yourself? You know me."

    He opened his mouth and formed the letters, pressed tongue to lips and teeth, four sylibles; but no sound issued forth. Suddenly like a gail the trees shook and shuddered. He looked up as a great roar issued through the woods. It shimmered and shook and before him lay the White Stag, the darkness crouching over it knife in hand blood pooling at its feet. His hood was pulled low only pale white teath fromed into a malicious grin peeking out from the darkness. It tilted its head to gaze at him with cold dead eyes full of hate, of pity, of shame and fear. Of death of love of cowardice, of pain.

    Cike pulled back his arms, arrow and bow forming from nothing. The darkness smirked and disolved lunging at him. The arrow whistled through the air spliting the vapor as it carreened into his chest. He felt the cold sting, and memories flashed before his eyes. A forest burning, the smell of death and decay, the echoing cries of coward, the laughing raspy cackle of the undead.

    He cried out and clutched at his chest, tears forming in his eyes as he tried to tare the dark thoughts from his heart.

    The voice echoed in the trees echoed the voice once more and he felt a weight on his back, as gentle as a hand soft and caring but the shape was off. It was thick and felt padded much heavier than a human's.

    "You know me. Did you think I would abandon you?"

    Cike straitened and crawled to the suffering White stag, beautiful even in its death throws. He prayed to him then with his soul and his mind, he called out his lord by name for the power. The power to heal.

    He asked for Nobanion's Blessing.

    His hands glowed and the Stag closed its eyes, its wounds closing. The body shimmered and shivered beneath his touch and raised its head to gaze into Cike's eyes, filled with warmth and life.

    He felt an overwhelming rush then the leaves about him swearling dancing about him as a rush of wind and a gentle roar filled his ears. He closed his eyes as the power of Nobanion coursed through him and into the stag, life energy pouring over the body.

    He opened his eyes and in the Stag's place a grey cleric's robe lay stitched with the detailed pattern of his Kin. The fabric soft and smooth, warm to the touch. The trim was fringed and sleaves double wide, a lion's head covered both breasts. He stood clutching the fabric of his homeland the remenant of his family. How he wished it wasnt a dream. The presence was still with him, the gentle paw resting on his shoulder. He felt a sudden weakness and fell to the floor waking from his dream.

    As he stirred by the dieing embers of the fire he felt an extra weight on his chest. He blinked the crust from his eyes sighing at the grey mass. He pushed lightly but the bundle did not push back, nor was it soft or fur. He rose quickly in astonishment the robe falling to his lap. He sat for what seemed like ages, a war of doubt fighting within his head, before he shifted onto his knees and clasped his hands togeather bowing his head piously.

    "Ah Lord Nobanion …. I do thank thee." Kell just watched silently wagging her tail, she looked to her right panting happly at the warm presense beside her wondering why her companion didn't sense it as well. She half shrugged and leaned next to the great lion, his wing coming over to rest on top of her as Cike continued his prayers.



  • December 6th

    The sun started to set in the west the last glimmering of rays stretched out over the nars reflecting off the snow in a shimmery haze catching in the crystals lighting it in a last defiant act against the darkness. He got up dusting the light covering of snow off of him pushing Kell to the side patting her on the head. He caught that sweet spot in beween her ears before letting her entertain herself with a wild rabit.

    His feet crunched beneath the snow already a chill wind coming in from the east as the darkness crept over more and more land. The trees bent, but stood strong against the night wind the owls coming alive to the hunt. He knelt beneath a tree clasping his hands togeather in prayer bowing his head piously.

    "Ah Nobanion, ever have you been by my side. Ah tis not long ago that you did bless I with your favor to heal and protect those I love. Ah even shorter was the blessing of Kell, whos without vision you did give I, I would never have found. Ah I asked not for any of these gifts but you did deem me worthy to have. Ah I thank you, and pray you watch over I and my pack. Ah over Lilin and her Child Aelthas. Ah over Drelan and Miss Nyda. Ah and especially over Vine, for I fear his heart does grow darker with each passing day tho he tells I naught.

    "Ah I pray for but one thing at this hour as I have before. Ah I pray you hear I, and grant me this one wish. Ah pray speak with Lady Bast, that she might return her favor to Lilin. Ah I thank you my lord for your faith in I, Ah I pray that I ever serve you and your teachings."

    He sifts in the snow keeping his head bowed and his hands clasped togeather waiting half a candle mark before continuing.

    "Ah Lady Bast I pray you do hear I. Ah tho I follow Nobanion I do beseach you. Ah pray grant Lilin your love again, for tho she has erred she does try to make amends. Ah ever has she been faithful and sought to bring happyness to all, to protect and keep happyness alive in these lands. Ah tho her faith wavered and did choose the path of the crystals, she only ever ment to serve as you teach

    "Ah I know she prays as I do to you this night underneath the moon. Ah and ever will she continue as your servent with or without your blessings, but pray return your love to her. Ah for her sadness is mine, and ever do I see the hesitant smile, the pause when an injured man or woman lays before her, the look as I heal with Lord Nobanion's blessings. Ah pray see her love for you and favor her again as you once did."

    He opened his eyes slowly resting his hands on his knees looking about the night world. Shadows within shadows darted this way and that, the moon hid behind a hazy glow. It would snow soon again. Kell lay silent and obediant by his side mindful of the precious moments after a prayer of contemplation and kept back her panting.

    He bowed his head once more in thanks to his lord and an extra one for Lady Bast before rising.

    Tomorrow would be better; he prayed tomorrow she would be blessed once more.



  • December 01

    He stared into the fire deep in thought listening to the crackle and watching the rise of the embers as they tried hopelessly to join their greater burning cousins in the sky. The night wind blew over head rustling the trees of the den, the gong swaying lightly back and forth resonating slightly as he sat before the fire. He sat close, so close that he could place his hand over the flames. Yet as close as he was, the Den did not feel as warm as it once was.

    He turned slightly to gaze at the forbearing doors and thought how much they looked like the City and Town he frequented. Miss Tala was, right, Vine was right. He turned back to the fire. He could never open those doors again for another. He would not.

    He rose softly and went into the inner den; a large pack lay in the corner with his bedroll and few belongings. He bent down, smiling slightly at Celest and Torin, greeting each in turn. He bowed before them and apologized for endangering them and not thinking of his actions fully as he should have, and began to gather up his meager possessions. The couple watched sadly as he took all and started to heft it on his back, gazing at the Wolf tooth in his hands.

    He noticed their look and smiles warmly back at them, and assures them to worry not. Returning the tooth back to his bow's handle he offers no explanation and leaves the inner den. Dropping the pack beside the cold fire again he sits close gazing deep at the burning embers and ash. He thrust his left hand into the burning fire letting the flames lick over his left hand. Pain.

    He withdrew his blistering hand looking sadly at it and about the empty fire. The great stone with which he stood before the other wolves. He smiled at these memories, remembered the weather, remembered Kell, remembered all present. He sighed slightly and looked at the fire letting the cool grass brush his burned left hand.

    A low growl tore his gaze away from the fire. The moon light glinted on grey white fur, paws and teeth lunged at him. He cried out in surprise the world turning over for him as he was thrown to the ground a heavy weight pinning him crushing his chest. His mind reeled at the possibilities that he was dreaming, was it the white blur? He groaned. Was he going mad again? He thought he was awake.

    A shift from Kell brought him back to reality and he sighed smiling at his companion reaching up to scratch absently behind her ears. The darkness melted away and he felt her warmth. His hand glided over her soft fur as he dug his nails in. A cricket sounded by his ear and he let it droll him to sleep, Kell getting comfortable lying on top of him they slept by the fire.

    He awoke before Kell, already rolled off of him still kicking in her sleep, patting her on the side. He rubbed his back, a stone had found its way there making him sore, he smirked at the irony of it all and bend down to pick up his pack he opened the Den doors quietly and slipped out heading south.

    The wind felt chill and crisp to his face, the sun giving little warmth as he stepped from the Den. He knew it would be warmer as he approached the Rawlins. It always was.



  • November 29th

    Cike's d- scribble scribble KELLS DAY OFF!

    A hundred and eleven, a hundred twelve, a hundred. Mathewson snapped at Kell finally tiering of her head butts. Kell minced away happily running to sniff the lone living flower in Cike's small flower bed. She breathed in the plesant scent only a wolf nose could apreciate then walked the length of the canyon's ridge.

    Out in the nars she lept easily into the snowy ground below and started to plod her way to Jiyyd. It would be so much easier without the doors, she never understood silly humans and thier love of wood. As she reached yet another set of doors, Jiyyds massive wooden baricade towering over her she pawed lightly at the wood whining to get the attention of a passerby.

    She hadn't had to wait long before the gate swung open and she scampered in. As she expected her other wolven play thing was laying by the pool. She bounded for the napping wolf who only opened his lazy eyes at the last minute to catch a tummy of furr falling atop it. Kell nuzzled her snout into the back fur of Wolf and began to lick at his coat grooming it as if he were a cub.

    Wolf complied his leg twitching all the while. Kell ignored it until she was done with his grooming before pawing at it as if it were a small field mouse. The sun shone brightly and yet the clouds rolled in to provide a short sun shower before settling down. A hazy wetness smell hung in the air. A few adventurers here and there speckled about the pool some leaving some staying to chat, all boring Kell until a familiar scent wafted to her nose. She could smell them even before they got there her mind working her body into a frenzy as they aproached.

    As they came through the door, the dark grey color of thier armor stained with orc blood aproached the pool, battle weary. Kell bounded off of Wolf attacking thier already weary bodies with licks. Sparing some time to pet and offer some scraps of meat to Kell they turned towards thier wounds and the hall to fill out the appropriate reports, Kell all the while dancing between and underneath thier legs.

    Wolf took the distraction to slip away from Kell. Tired out from the excitement Kell once again aproaches the doors of Jiyyd pawing at it, this time one of the big guards, a half orc opened the door for her, Kell hopped up and licked her in the face quickly before darting out.

    Outside the snow started to fall the darker clouds rolling in. Blood hung in the air and the familiar scent of fear and death. Kell crouched low and stalked the near east road to find the dead body of a fallen adventurer. His scent is foreign to her and the Hobgoblin with the scyth pokes the dead body once over before walking away smug with himself. Leaving the dead and his belongings to be covered by the snow.

    Kell watches the Hobgoblin leave a low growl eminating from her throat she sighs and glances at the body once more before moving on. It wasnt the first time such has happened, it wouldnt be the last, she half wished Cike was around, she couldn't take the Hobgoblin alone.

    A light film of snow collected on her coat before she made it to the Alliance arms inn, where she was greeted with a familar scent and the giggling bundle of boy bounding to her. Kell licked happily at Aelthas' face as he ran his fingers through her fur. He began to climb atop her and she carried him back towards the Inn walls.

    A small pang of discomfort and a poping in her back told her Aelthas was getting too big to be riding on her and soon would have to be nipped to keep off her, but she pushed the thought aside and trotted with the happy bundle as he clung to her neck.

    Later that evening Kell napped happily with Aelthas beside the roaring fire within, he curled about on her digging his face into her warm fur the fire casting thier shadows upon the other patrions of the Inn.

    The door opened gently and another familiar scent touched her nose lightly as Lilin aproached smiling picking the sleeping Aelthas up in her arms and carrying him to bed. Kell sat up panting happily and awaited her reward for playing the evening away with the boy. She was given a thourogh scratchign behind the ears and face rubbing before being kissed on the head and let out of the inn. Kell made her way in the dead of night catching the many scents of the human Eastlanders on the road avoiding thier steelly eyes and bows.

    The den fire glowed below as she crept along the ridge edge, Cike sitting before it gazing in thought. Kell crouched down and crept up slowly on the unknowing human. She grined mischeviously and growled low to catch his attention then lept into the air. Cike turned in time to see teeth bared at him and grey paws aimed at his cheast.

    He cried out in surprise only to have the wind knocked out of him as he was pinned to the ground. Kell stat atop him triumphantly wagging her tail and balancing on his chest as he groaned from the weight. He sighed and reached up petting her and scratching in all the right places. His mood seemed to lift and she rested her head down on his chest leting him work his ill thoughts from his mind scratching lightly between her ears. They lay by the fire falling asleep to the sound of the night owls and the crackle of fire embers trying hopelessly to join thier brighter cousins in the sky.

    As the sun arose in the east Kell yawned and stretched out licking her paws before she bounded for the top of the ridge where Mathewson stood ever vigilant over the den. She grinned as he ignored her presense and dug her feet into the well warn spots to his side. Lowering her head she gently rapped it against his side getting a gentle thud sound as her head met his thigh.

    One, Two, Three …..



  • November 18th

    He woke again the soft wind blowing silence all about him. It was the dream again. He cupped his head pulling aside the bed roll blanket. Was he going mad again? Was this a sign for him to try to leave Narfell again? He had to be mad it was the only explanation. Guilt and Madness, even the undead when he died last told him so, the Lich of his past did not exist he was just a madman.

    It was always the same deep in the woods he hunted something just out of sight and reach, he would raise his bow, arrow notched searching, looking into the darkness. The trees about were silent the familiar sounds of the woods quieted. There was no rustle of leaves or breaking of twigs but he knew there was movement out there, knew that something continued to circle him, something continue to watch him. It's coat was white and brilliant as it dashed about just outside his field of vision or through the corner of his eye. His heart beat loudly in his chest the only sound within his dream forest. His eyes dashed about to catch a better glance of the figure. Why was he hunting it? Did he mean to Kill it? No that was not it, something else roamed the forest something else that he could not see. Was this his true enemy? He stepped lightly trying to let the shadows spill over and conceal him, but the haunting feeling of being watched continued.

    The urge of being in the glen washed over him and the forest melted about him as only a dream could and he stood before the alter in the druid's glen, the air and trees about him charged with energy pushing and pulling at his being. His hand itched and he rested his bow on the ground before the alter. Calmness overcame him and his mind drifted until he awoke.

    The moon was shining down on him as he cradled his head. The nightmares had ceased only to be replaced by this new dream that only confounded him. The trees rustled and again he felt watched from the shadows and sky. The wind blew lightly and kissed his cheek and suddenly he felt drowsy once again falling back onto his bedroll. Sleep overcame him and once again he was enveloped in the dream.

    With that he closed his eyes and let it take him.



  • November 5th

    There was no doubt. Something had changed in him. He felt drawn to the peace of the Druid's Glen. Even Lilin and Kelenthor stated he was sounding much like a Druid. He shook his head and tried to clear it.

    His lord was blessing him with more spells that was obvious, but what did Lilin and Kelenthor mean when they said he was speaking in tongues? He felt at ease in the woods more so than ever. Was this the new path that was opening before him? He was so confused. There were other things to deal with first, his mind was calm and at ease, but his heart still weighed heavily.

    Cike looked about for the first time finding himself in the woods near the Druid's Glen. When did he …

    He was there already he might as well go in he thought to himself. He stepped in as the wind swept at his back. Inside however the wind had died to a gentle breeze and the sun shone brightly through golden columns through the holes in the canopy. A few leaves fell lightly as the wind brushed them about in an intricate dance before his eyes. He patted down a spot in the grass and lay down, his mind drifting into calm serenity.

    He thought back not long ago as he lay in the very spot with Lilin. His heart eased and he slept peacefully in the Glen.



  • November 3rd

    He wanted to scream at them, to yell, to kick, to break, to run. It was too much. What knew they of his pain? Could they guarantee the weight on his heart, the thoughts in his head, would go away? Was it so easy to forget love? Who were they to say he was wrong? He would die anyway why not spill a bit of blood now? Why not?

    But he didn’t. The words, the anger, the pain; crawled deeper into him hiding. It allowed the logic and love to wash over the body but it would return. Always it returned, when he was alone, when the weight in his heart was greatest.

    The clouds were dark and snow fell in sheets and he nestled beside a hollow tree. The bark gave off a musky rotting smell and he could feel the worms and insects turn away from his body's warmth burrowing deeper, and excavating the dead wood. He pulled his hood lower, and welcomed the darkness.

    The snow fell collecting all around him his blood staining it a ruddy brown about him. The cold dulled the pain but he concentrated on it none the less. Who were they to say it did not ease the pain? Who were they to say it did not help. Of course he would not yell at them, he loved them. Of course he did not wish to see them worry over him. He knew they didn’t want him to hurt. But it was his burden.

    Vine, Lilin, Amalia, Drelan; he could not burden them, they knew his pain surely but he could not, he would not. What would his words be but emptiness and hypocrisy?

    He sighed and dug deeper into the hollow, the wood crunched and crumbled, but a particular sturdy piece refused to give, piercing into one of his oozing gashes. He winced, and then turned his mind to the pain. It hurt, a lot, yet didn’t.

    It was all he could do, one pain to replace another.

    Of course he had no wish to die. He knew the pain and grief he would cause. He was not worthy; he knew it, why could they not see it? If they knew the true him, the coward within, his madness, his uselessness, then they would turn their backs truly they would.

    He heard crunching approach and a sneeze, his hand rested lightly on his sword as he peeked from within the hollow. As his cheek brushed the rotting wood, bits flaked off rubbing into his skin. A wet tongue smelling of raw meat drooled a path from his chin to his forehead in short bursts. He smiled lightly and hugged Kell bringing her into the hollow.

    He crumpled down amid the rotting wood and dead leaves and hugged her. She calmly let Cike bury his face in her fur uttering not a sound licking lightly at his hair. He muttered into her fine coat pronouncing her a silly wolf. The silliest silly wolf in all of Narfell.

    He finally cried clutching at Kell in great sobs his tears absorbing into her thick winter coat as she rested her head atop his.

    When would this pain go? When does the hurting stop? He listened, counting his slow monotonous heart beats and wondered how many he had before the end.



  • November 1st

    He returned to the den still numb. He looked about the emptyness encroaching in on him. He didn't know why he came back, perhaps he sought the comfort of his family. But none were present and he was glad for it. He would not have to explain the various cuts and gashes on his body. Nor why he felt nothing. He had no right to burden them with this, especially Vine. He dropped his pack on the ground and from the shadows stired a whining.

    Kell bumped into him and started to lick his wounds. He lightly patted her head and started to climb the ridge compelled to check on something. As he suspected all were dead. It was alright, he was growing them to gift Sil, he wanted to shower her room with the lovely blue flowers that matched her beautiful eyes. He even asked Wog to help him sneak into the Legion hall to do it. There was something almost poetic that they should all be dead.

    He knelt sifting over the dead flowers a sad smile on his face. They were much like him. He was a weak and short lived flower in the shadow of a giant Redwood that was Sil. He kicked weakly at the ground dispersing some of the dead flowers covering others with dirt. As he turned away something caught his eye.

    He bent low and brushed away some of the dead stems and flowers finding one still firmly planted and alive. It sprouted alone and resliliant regardless of his neglect. He lightly touched the flower's soft petals. He smiled warmly and his mind was calmed. Part of him didn't care, wanted to walk away and leave it to its eventual death, to follow the flower into oblivion, to crush it and end its misery and hardships. But as he gazed at it, the delecate and simple flower, he wished to nurture it, to hope.

    He muttered a soft prayer to Nobanion to watch over the flower, and walked away.



  • October 27th

    She was his first his love, his light. She would always be his light. But what happens when the light leaves?


    The sun was bright and warm as he lay on the ridge overlooking the Nars, but he felt none of it; only a bitter cold numbness around his body, with a heavy weight on his chest. It was best this way. He would have to keep repeating those empty words.

    She had told him that she didn't want to hurt anymore. Of course he would do whatever was needed to keep her from hurting. But he could not change fact or race. He was Human and she was Elf. Eluriel, Sul'lina, even Tala warned him, but he headed them not.

    The days would pass and Cike would age, and continue to age as she stayed young and beautiful. Or he would die, again tearing a part of her heart. Cike had already felt this, knew it was coming but he didn't know it would hurt this bad. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to leave her, he didn't want to hurt her.

    He had nodded slowly his whole body numb. Her face was so beautiful, her hair perfect. They stood there what seemed to be an eternity out by the lake. She kissed him on the cheek but he didn't feel a thing, barely heard the sound. And she left. He would not hurt her. He would live with this pain for however long it would take but he would hurt her no longer. He already hurt her so much, he just never saw it. She saw it, his age each month, every day, each second; and it hurt.

    He looked up past the clouds, past the blue, past the heavenly bodies; wishing upon wish that he could have been Elven. Praying for Nobanion to bless him and change him, to grant him life as long as hers.

    He laid there on the warm ground the blades of grass kissing his skin but felt nothing. He just lay there time passing him by, his human life growing shorter and shorter.



  • October 27th

    He checked his plot of land constantly. For the most part he prayed and let nature take its course his nudge done when he tilled the land. He wished not to disturbe the land any more than he already did. Every now and again however he would Pray to Nobanion and bless the area to protect it from a harsh or cold day.

    It wasn't long before some green started to sprout from the dark brown earth. He smiled and sat down next to the plot and just watched the wonder of growth and nature; his heart at ease and his mind clear. Kell came up and sniffed at the plot curious to her companions actions over the past few weeks.

    Cike called her over and cradled the Excitable wolf to him. Her heart pounded against his, as he whispered to Kell. They sat in silence then and enjoyed the day. Snow started to fall lightly though not a flake touched the garden. Kell rose from Cike to catch them on her tongue.

    He smiled and watched her for a while before laying on his back to watch the snow fall from the heavens. It swerled and danced in a kelidescope of flurrys sometimes landing before his eyes sometimes dodging just in time to kiss his cheek. There was a stillness of sound in the air as the wind blew gently, nither hindering nor aiding the snowfall. Birds hid in thier nests huddling close as badged burrowed for warmth in the ground. He folded his hands and rested his head on them. The cold did not bother him as much as it had, the thought of bringing his hood up did not even occure to him.

    A fine layer had collected on him by the time he finally rose looking back once more at the plot of land its brown soil compleatly unawear of the harsh climate around it. He wiped at his face clearing the snow and started to rub the numbness away. He sighed a bit as a thought came to his mind, time was so short for him, how he longed to be an Elf and see the true beauty of the forest.

    He smiled slightly and looked again to his garden, he would have to content himself with these, and he was alright with it.



  • October 26th

    Part of him doubted himself, another part was so assured, and grew stronger with each thrust of his hand into the soft earth. He tilled it browning his hands and sometimes cutting them as they brushed against sharp pebbles and rocks. The wind whipped his hair up on the Den's Ridge but he worked through it, sweat pouring from his face running down his chest to stain his shirt.

    Kell had already grown tired of this new game and sat near Mathewson silently watching Cike quizical of his actions. It was more of an ugre a thought after he had returned from the Elven Encampment, but since his death the feeling was stronger. It pushed at his thoughts and consumed his sleep.

    In the dark of night the moon waxing full, he walked the long trek from the Den to the Norwick Graveyard. Tond was up as always and looked up at Cike quizically. Bringing out his pouch Cike made his order quickly and Tond went off to fill it. He paced the graveyard, waiting patiently, not even a fear or itch from his scared arms as he passed each stone, each marker.

    A night owl hooted above him as he knelt before a grave stone overrun with a beautiful orange flower whose vines wrapt around the stone clutching it tightly sprouting from the grave. He moved to remove the growth to clean and allow the name to show but paused as his hand brushed the flowers. He let its texture play arcoss his finger tips feeling the light dusting of pollen; stirred about and back on itself by the wind.

    The Owl hooted again as Tond aproached a hefty sack in his hands. Cike took it smiling and moved to leave but paused a moment to ask why Tond did not clean off that particular stone. He smiled and told Cike he was getting on in age and there were so many. The truth however was that the child who unfortunatly died due to a harsh winter cold loved those flowers regardless of how encroaching the vines were.

    Cike smiled and left Tond to his graveyard. He set to work early that morning barely greating the other Wolves as they gathered around the fire or emerged from the inner den. Pausing only to ask Philomena about her garden and advise, he continued his labors tirelessly.

    The seeding brought back warm memories of his first days in Narfell planting with Eluriel. He sighed slightly knowing that he would never live to see the beauty of those trees he seeded with Eluriel but there was an odd warm feeling, a light thought and smile crept through on his face with the knowledge that life indeed would go on after him.

    He smiled warmly and plunged another hand into the warm soil.



  • October 25th

    The arrow hit the target with a dull thud. He sighed his quiver compleatly emptied his hand throbing. The Targets were little more than a pin cushion but Cike had kept track of each arrow as it hit and especially as it missed. He looked down at his throbing right hand and flexed it. He sighed again, his aim was off; weaker.

    Kell was entertaining herself again by headbutting Mathewson until the old wolf grew annoyed and snapped at her. Cike smiled at her and thanked Nobanion he still had her and Sil. He stretched out and fell into the grass the green blades carressing his cheaks as a few reached for the sky from the corner of his eyes.

    A gentle breeze blew over him stirring the grass to kiss his cheeks. He smiled and reveled in the bird calls, a song in thier own right, and let his mind wander. Up above the clouds broke with the breeze the sun beaming down to bake Cike's skin as he lay in the grass.

    This death was much different than any other. He returned with more knowledge than he had learned in all his time in Narfell, or perhaps he did not, but his mind was working in a different way. Something certainly changed. He remembered the skelleton as he waited, and he even retained much of his memory upon waking from the floor of Vorka's healing house. Sil emedatly filled his mind as did his brother and Miss Lyte, the last he knew he knew, but could not grasp his name.

    He had flipped through his book afterwards and easily started to remember everyone. Perhaps it was the doing of skelleton. If so there was more he had to trust in his words. He wished it was not so but began to accept it.

    He pushed those thoughts aside as a cloud came across the sun, a light drizzle started to fall and pat against Cikes face. He closed his eyes and let it soak his hair and clothes. He knew it would not pass for a while but he stayed letting the rain fall upon him. The bird's hushed taking cover from the rain and all was replaced by the gentle patting of the rain, a song in its own right.

    He picked one of the rain sweetened blades and began to chew it. It tasted sweeter then he had ever noticed. Something had changed within him. He was on a new path now. What was that path he wondered his mind lightly touching on the words of the Skelleton, and of Amalia and Vine's words, and finally to thoughts of Sil.

    He was on a new path now.



  • October 24th

    The sun shown brightly and warmed his face as he steped from the Den. Kell happily dashed out jumping into the new fallen snow on the Nars Pass. A few Eastland Falcons flew over head and Cike could see out of the corner of his eyes the shift of a shadow that could only be a Cutpurse. He ignored them and walked south.

    Kell followed especially docile today, without a glimer of want to tackle Cike. He sighed happily for this moment of tranquility and prayed for this little bit that no one else he knew would show up. Kell had a habit of shifing into high exitability when there were others. He was safe as long as he avoided the main road and took a round about way to the Rawlins.

    The snow crunched underfoot and was a white shining blanket across all the nars. Snow crystals caught the noon sun making it shimmer with each step, until Kell crashed deep toughs through it. She would turn to Cike for his aproval, and he would only sigh for the lost image. He knew it would return, it was always snowing and cold this far north, but still.

    He paused before the north gate of Norwick and lead Kell to the side towards the graveyard. It was quiet for a Narfell afternoon, but then Cike wasn't seeking noise or adventure. Kell, tired out from her romp in the snow obediantly followed Cike into the foul smelling Graveyard. She sneezed as they entered but Cike just patted her on the head reasuring her that thier stay would not be long and he sought no Undead this day.

    Tond smiled as he approached an armful of flowers fresh as any spring day. Cike smiled and began pulling a small pouch of coins out. "Ah sir Tond truly I wonder if not you were ment to be a child of the woods rather then a grave keeper."

    Tond just smiled and accepted the coin. Cike wished him well and Kell added in a bark and they both departed the grave heading south towards the rawlins. The clouds darkened a little, and for a moment Cike worried the perfect day was going to become downcast with rain. Passing the south gate he was relieved as a light sun shower pelted his hood and Kell's fine coat.

    Kell shook sending spatters of water at Cike but he continued on into the tree cover. Just as his feet touched dried and dead branches the shower ended leaving a fine musk smell rising from the forest floor. This far south the tree cannopy kept the constant snow from the ground leaving fresh browned leaves on the floor always. Alive in its own right; with bugs and bandgers burrowing just under the ground beyond the eye's sight.

    He smiled taking in a deep breath and patted Kell on the head issuing them on. Shafts of light broke through the treetops in long golden columns dust and bugs weaving between them as a few flakes broke through the cannopy to melt away and drip upon the dry leaves below. Birds and bees buzzed about and the Rawlins seemed a compleatly different land compared to the snow covered hills of the Nars pass. Kell dug a bit here and there her wolf curiosity begging her to find a bone.

    Her head raised quickly and she uttered a low growl as the musky smell of dirty goblins met her sensitve nose. Cike nodded and kept his hand fingering his long sword. He patted her on the side and urged her on. They were not hunting, not today. Kell whined, wishing to unleash her fury on those that took her mother and brother when she was but a cub, but Cike calmed her. There would be hunts later, not today.

    They continued south the crunching of leaves beneath thier feet and the occational Goblin shortie running in fear at the angry looking wolf. Cike lead the way Kell trailing slightly behind dragging her paws still upset at the Goblins walking alive and still breathing. They broke through into a clearing with sparse trees the area remenicant of his home forest. A Deer roamed just out of bowshot a badger beyond making a borrow. Birds chirpped then scattered at his aproach and his feet touched charred ground.

    Here the forest was quietest. Even the trees seemed to pay respect swaying little while others tended thier burnt bark in quiet solitude. A long slow healing that would take generations and Cike would never see its full beauty in his lifetime. Kell found a large rock that seemed perfectly possioned underneath a sun beam. She baked her fine fur laying spayed out letting the dust of the forest settle on her beautiful coat.

    Cike smiled then continued past the broken and battered doors. Graves speckled the area and many of the hollowed out trees that were homes lay gaping open thier doors burned or broken to bits. Something crunched underfoot and Cike paused. He bent down and brushed at the dirt and leaves pulling from the soft earth a box. Within some jacks and a ball, a small wooden top, and leaves. A squarel or badger had gotten to it before Cike, gnaw marks lined the edges and whatever sweetness that emenated from the box was surely resting in the stomach of said animal.

    He sighed and plunged his hand deep into the soft earth digging out a deeper hole. He placed the box in then shoveled the dirt carefully over it offering a prayer.

    Cike continued onward till he was in the center of the encampment. The wind was still but there was no smell of death or decay or even of evil. He closed his eyes and began to breath in deeply his mind wandering to the time he had spent in the camp. His thoughts and memories, his hopes of becoming accepted here. The looks, the distrust of the Elves as he walked amongst them. Of Lyte as they sat about a fire speaking of Grag, of heros like Sam and his hill, of the Defiler. Of his Older sister Sul'lina who did suggest he become a Wolf of Narfell in this very camp to Ohtar leader of the pack.

    He smiled and bowed his head to the fallen praying to his lord and honoring those lost. He rested the Flowers on the ground and took one last look around. Closing his eyes and senses, laughter filled his mind. Elven children ran about hidding behind this tree and that, another youth strummed a lute in the crutch of a hollow of a tree, as a midwife cooked a hearty broth over an open flame, and the guards by the gate looked hungrally as thier shift toiled longer. Summer rays sifted through lighting this clearing, the sounds of laughter filling and echoing amongst the trees.

    Cike opened his eyes and ears to the silence around him and sighed picking up his feet and rejoining Kell as she finished grooming her paws. She had caught something in the intermediate time and Cike was in no mood to guess what it had been. She hopped off and joined him at his side rubbing up against him sensing his mood. He smiled and patted her on the head scratching in between her ears.

    Togeather they walked back towards home. Leaving the stillness of the forest behind them.



  • October 23ed

    Guilt started to eat at his mind again. But there was a new light. Shining away the darkness. The words of Vine and Amalia cut through and began to battle his thoughts. The doubt and guild dissapated. Amalia was right he could not let his mind control his actions, nor let it hold back his love for Sil.

    He rose and dusted his pants off. He made the long quiet journey to Peltarch. Sil had not been in Jiyyd in so long and he had been told she was in Peltarch. He rapped lightly on the doors to the bardic college and inquired within where his beloved was.

    He was lead to her chambers but found her not there. Confused Cike surveyed the room a bit. Piles and stacks of paper lay everywhere some crumpled in the corner others haphazardly writen on. He smiled warmly this time from the heart. Sil was moving forward and his thoughts of guilt, his need for her comfort would only bring her down.

    "She needs this not," He thought to himself as he replaced a heavy tome on her bed. Assured Cike knew he had to work hard as well. Amalia's words rung in his head once more and he knew he had to hunt to become a man Sil could depend on. He did not know when it happened but it did. Sil had become his light and from that he depended on her too much. She could not support his demons, he must do that himself.

    The thought of Sil Possessed by a Demon struck his mind harshly, a burning elven encampment and the contorted face of his lover in fury. His head throbed then and the sound logic of his brother Vine resounded in his head. He would not have been able to stop the Demon from taking Sil, and more would her pain be if he had died at her hands. Cike inhaled and calmly shut the door. The darkness had passed.

    He left the stone cold walls of Peltarch and strung his bow carefully.



  • October 14th

    He gazed into the pool. It was early morning and the fresh dew collected there was like a perfect mirror. Kell watched on curiously as her companion contorted his face.

    Smile.

    Sil was starting to worry. He had let the darkness reflect too much. He had to practice once again. He imagined something nice said and then smiled weakly into the pool. It was good enough but he saw flaws. Even Vine would be able to tell something was wrong. He tried again this time imagining Sil kissing him.

    He smiled warmly and from the soul this time. And then the guilt took hold again. He couldn't use that, it hurt too much. He sighed and looked into the pool once more to gaze at the pathetic human before him. Dark bags under his eyes with lines of worry etched into his brow. White hair hung loosely underneath the hood.

    He practiced again his mask, pushing aside the guilt. Let it eat his insides let it prod his mind, no one must know. He smiled into the pool until he was satisfied, and then turned to Kell. She raised her head and cocked her head to the side in bewilderment. He smiled warmly at the excitable wolf and she barked happily. He nodded and rose from the shallow pool, Kell already making her way back to the Den.

    He took one last look at the haggard face in the pool then stomped on it water splashing everywhere. Pulling his hood lower he followed after Kell. The sun broke through the clouds but it did nothing to warm him.