Failure And Loss [1768 RWH], by Teri Herbert
Foxears stared down at Shagtop's head as the silent Hunt party rode back to the Holt. They had found nothing. Nothing. His eyes glazed over as his mind raced over the signs and tracks he had observed but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with a different answer. He couldn't see or find any new detail that would lead him to a new, and better conclusion. His hands unconsciously curled into fists, grasping thick fur and skin between thick fingers tighter and tighter until Shagtop came to a halt.
The sudden halt in movement jarred Foxears from his thoughts and he stared in surprise at his white knuckles and fingers firmly clenched deep in Shagtop's fur. Remorsefully, Foxears pried his fingers open and scratched Shagtop behind the ears in apology. It wasn't the large wolf's fault that Foxears had failed and he regretted inflicting pain on the wolf, unintentional though it had been. Shagtop once again lurched forward into a jog to catch up with the others, and once again Foxears fell back into his own thoughts of failure and loss.
How could one simply disappear? How could he not find any trace of her? He knew it was irrational. He knew it was nearly impossible to find tracks in rocky areas but still that niggling feeling that he could have done more - should have done more - wouldn't leave him. He lifted his head and shrugged his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in his muscles. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the silver-haired Hunt Leader. He couldn't imagine how she must be feeling. He wouldn't want to be a leader. He wouldn't want to have to break the news that someone's loved one had been lost or to have the responsibility of other elfin lives relying on his decisions.
With a jerk, his mind settled on Nettle. Summerset had been a close friend of Nettle's. The pain of loss Foxears was feeling intensified until he thought his soul would shatter. How could he tell his lifemate that Summerset was simply gone? That he and the others had failed. Had failed in keeping her safe in the first outing and had now failed to find any signs of the weaver. How could he tell his lifemate he had failed?
Once again Shagtop came to a halt and Foxears, glancing hurriedly down at his hands, was relieved to see them lying flat on Shagtop's shoulders. Glancing around, he realized they were back at the Holt. The others were dismounting and heading silently away, each to their own destination. Foxears slowly dismounted and looked toward his own den where he could see two pairs of anxious eyes looking out at him. Bowing his head and shoulders slumped under the combined weight of loss and failure, Foxears stumbled towards his lifemates, unsure of whether or not he would be able to look them in the eye when he told them they had failed. He had failed. Summerset was lost.
Lesson Number One [1766 RWH], by Teri Herbert
Foxears dug through a pile of odds and ends in the corner of his den. Dust coated his face and clothes as he dug deeper into the pile. An old shirt and then a broken spear went flying over his shoulder to land on the growing pile of items on the furs. He cursed as he pricked his finger on an old arrowhead and glared balefully at the offending item. Sucking on his finger to stop the bleeding, he continued his search until finally his hand closed around the item he had been looking for.
"By Wise Elk's leathers!" he exclaimed, "Finally!" In his hand was the dagger Nettle had given him many seasons before. It was carefully wrapped in a piece of waterproof leather and he anxiously peeled it away to reveal the scabbard and pommel of the dagger. Grasping the pommel, he pulled the dagger free. The dagger gleamed softly in the fading light as he brought it close to his eyes.
'Good, good,' he thought absently. 'The metal is still in good shape. The edge could use a little work though.' He jumped to his feet and, ignoring the mess he had created, he leapt out of the den and to the forest floor below. His eyes scanned the area for Beechnut. Catching sight of her, he ran lightly across the Holt, dodging several elves.
Later, his dagger freshly sharpened, he walked a short distance into the forest and picked a tree. Taking careful aim, he threw the dagger as hard as he could only to have it fly clumsily through the air and land on its side a short distance from the tree. Sighing in irritation, he walked to the dagger and picked it up. Walking back to his starting point, he tried once more. Again, the dagger landed on its side several lengths from his chosen target.
"It looks so easy," he muttered to himself. "Dirk does it as easily as she breathes."
"That's because I practiced and practiced and have the talent for it," a dry voice said from behind him. "Whatever are you doing with that?"
Flushing slightly, Foxears turned to face Dirk. "Well, uh, I have this dagger and, well, it seemed like a waste not to learn how to use it," he trailed as she started to laugh.
"So you just thought you could teach yourself?" she started to laugh even harder. "Foxears! That's so, so, so-" she couldn't finish through her laughter. Stunned at first, it took Foxears a moment to realize the ridiculousness of his actions and then he joined her in her laughter.
"Where did you get that?" Dirk asked gasping for breath.
"Well, I was eating some dreamberries last night - don't tell Dreamberry! - and I remembered I had this dagger Nettle gave to me," his amusement disappearing. "Long story short, I always swore to learn how to throw it but I never got around to it and, well, here I am." He sighed.
Dirk looked at him for a moment and then, taking pity on him, she said, "I'll show you. It'll take awhile but I think I can make the time between teaching Lionheart and learning from Dreamberry. You'll-" Her words were cut off as Foxears grabbed her in a hug and twirled her around. He set her back on her feet and grinned at her.
"Thank you!" he said enthusiastically. "I'll take lessons whenever you have the time!"
The world still spinning slightly, Dirk glared at him and replied, "Lesson number one: Don't ever spin me around like that again or you'll see what a dagger can really be used for."
Even [1765 RWH], by Teri Herbert
Watching his prey walk towards him with easy strides, Foxears shifted slightly in the tree. The branches and leaves of the tree hid Foxears from his prey's view and there was no wind to carry his scent. Feeling that familiar sensation in his stomach as his prey approached, he narrowed his green eyes, judging the distance until he could spring his trap.
'Three, two, one.' Counting down slowly, he waited until he reached zero and then started jumping up and down on the branch sending a waterfall of water pouring down on his prey. Jumping along the branches, he ran away from the scene, his laughter trailing behind him and Lovemaker's shouts following.
"FOXEARS!" yelled Lovemaker as he shook water off himself. "Smokepath's going to kill me!"
Still chuckling at the image of Smokepath killing Lovemaker, Foxears finally made it out of hearing range. He jumped back down to the path and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
'Hmmm, what to do next?' He surveyed various members of the Holt as he walked slowly through. 'There's Wildstar…no, better leave the Chieftess alone today. Ahhh, Lark, I could - no, she might kick me out of the den.' Continuing until he reached the end of the Holt, he considered and rejected most of the members of the tribe.
Heaving a sigh, he leaned back against a tree. 'There has to be someone,' he pondered as he chewed his lip, 'But whom?' Suddenly, a colourful wing blocked his view and screeching filled his ears. He grabbed the offending preserver and was about to send it on its way when an idea struck him 'Of course!' he thought in triumph. 'Rock!'
Grinning in amusement, Foxears carefully opened his hand and looked down at Capnut.
"Capnut, you're just the preserver I was looking for!" he said, ignoring its attempts to speak by closing his hand around the preserver once more, "Rock was just telling me how much he really loved listening to you sing. He really doesn't dislike you as much as he makes out he does."
Capnut's eyes lit up and when Foxears released it, it flew around his head for a moment.
"Ohhh, nastybad highthing like Capnut!" it screeched before flying away in search of Rock.
Grinning in pleasure, Foxears watched Capnut fly away, following it with his eyes until they passed over a wet Lovemaker making his way purposefully towards him.
'Oh no, better go elsewhere,' he thought and quickly disappeared into the forest behind him.
Later, while contemplating a large muddy pool of water and how he could get someone to fall into it, Lark sent to him, **Foxears! Where are you?**
**Down by the river,** he sent in reply adding the image of where he was standing to his lifemate in hopes she would join him.
**Don't move,** she replied.
Smiling in anticipation, Foxears started to hum quietly under his breath. Soft footsteps behind him alerted him to the presence of another elf.
"Lark, I'm so- What are you doooiiinnnggg!" he yelled as he was sent flying through the air to land in the mud puddle he'd been contemplating.
He hit the water, sending up a spray which Lovemaker and Rock deftly avoided. He splashed around for a couple of moments before managing to pull himself into a sitting position. Shoving his wet hair out of his face, he regarded Lovemaker and Rock, both of whom stood over him with crossed arms.
Grinning wryly, Foxears said, "Even?"
"Even."