Date: October 4, 1999
Place: Sky Hut - Great Oak - Forest
Cast: Sharpclaw, Soft-Feather
Scene: Sharpclaw has been growing rebellious, letting his tribal duties slack off while embracing his wolfen side more. He thought he knew enough about his shifting to stop his lessons, and started thinking his teacher, Soft-Feather (and others), were trying to run his life. So the teenage graisha began to grow more distant, until a couple nights before a planned trip to Avalon when Soft-Feather finally confronted him.

Sky Hut - Great Oak - Forest:
      The hut is very cozy... soft light coming from lit torches in various spots around the room. The large window is closed, keeping all light and warmth inside. Everything seems so much calmer here, now that night has fallen. Almost quiet... serene. Four beds grace this room, covered in furs. A shaped set of chairs sit in the middle of the hut. Off to the side, opposite the door, is a large table and four wooden seats made of tree stumps. Above the bedroom door is a festively decorated branch... the mating branch of Soft-Feather and Tenderheart -- two lovers joined at the soul forever.

The soft flickering of two torches provides the only lighting in this sky home. Oaken branch and vined furniture make this place look natural -- though the furnishings have obviously been shaped. The main room is not occupied. The beds are empty -- an odd happening for this late at night.

Though Sharpclaw's bed being empty may not be quite as odd a sight as of late. The shifter's been routinely coming in after the others in the hut have fallen asleep, oftentimes gone again early in the morning to do his work in the fields, though that's been slacking off just a bit lately. What's he up to that has him taking a more nocturnal schedule? Quietly, the door opens and he slips in clad only in a loincloth, golden eyes looking around before he moves over to his bedding.

A few minutes pass by. Minutes passed in silence, for truly this hut seems devoid of life. Then, surprisingly, the rehinged shutters fly inward. There's a slight breeze and a rather large bird alights on the windowsill. Golden eyes blinking and twinkling in the soft light, the eagle hops down to the floor.

For the moment, Sharpclaw goes unnoticed.

Sharpclaw nearly jumps in a moment of surprise as the shutter swings open and the eagle flits in and enters the hut. Quickly shutting his eyes, he feigns sleep. Maybe that'll work.

There's a slight chirp, followed by a low rippling sound. Losing solidity and becoming a gel-like mass, eagle form is lost and a new shape begins to take hold. The liquid flows into two arms, two legs, and various other body parts. Widening, lengthening, filling -- soon solidity comes again and Soft-Feather stands there, quite naked, blinking. This time the change took many seconds. Why? Feather has been experimenting with slow changes again... practicing the subtleties of shifting. Eyes scan the room, falling on the open bedroom door.

For the moment, Tenderheart seems to be resting peacefully. Seeing so, Feather walks towards his chair... and finds something he has not seen in quite a while. "Ewan." An eyebrow is arched. Where has this young one been? Certainly not practicing his abilities, like he should be. Even Running River has mentioned the young man's lack of effectiveness in the fields. This is the first time Soft-Feather has encountered the youth in awhile. Strong senses, even out of animal form, help Feather in knowing that Claw is not asleep. Still, he takes his seat and says nothing. His stare, however, could burn holes in the young man's head.

Sure... it's one thing to be slacking off on his personal lessons and practicing, but there's not much of an excuse for the poorer work in the fields. It's part of Sharpclaw's duties to feed the rest of the tribe, and it's an important one. Maybe it's getting to be too much responsibility for him? He can't help but flinch at the way Soft-Feather says his name, indeed feeling that look at the back of his head. He just can. Made uncomfortable by it, he shifts slightly in the bed, covering his head partially with an arm.

Soft-Feather simply rests in his chair, rubbing at his beard. Hmm... apparently the youth thinks he's fooling somebody. By now, after everything Feather and Claw have been through, he must know that Feather can see right through this charade. Arms are folded, eyes are daggers, and a breath escapes from the teacher. "You seem well rested, at least." Yes... as he should be. Everyone has their part in this tribe. Some hunt, others harvest, and others still cook. If one person does not do their part, the others suffer. Perhaps Claw has forgotten his responsibility to the tribe... and to himself. Soft-Feather is not necessarily angry -- more like concerned and disappointed. A mental thought is directed at Claw, though he most likely can not receive it since both men are not telepathic. However, that one stinging comment could probably be picked up by any telepath in the area: GET UP.

Actually... no. Sharpclaw's tired right now, very tired. It's what happens when he goes to bed late and gets up early, then spends most of his energy doing various things during the day, evening, and night. Oh, he's done enough to get by, but that's not enough. But who knows? Maybe that sharp mental thought is picked up on by the graisha, for he sits up shortly after it's 'sent,' Sharpclaw's eyes hooded as they fall upon Soft-Feather. Silent, he appears to be brooding, moody.

The air between teacher and student seems staunch -- thick and clotted. What has happened in the last few months to cause such a slip from inkanaship and lessons? Granted, with the reign of Twilight Shiver and Tremor, matters have been very hard for the tribe. The plague only added to this. Could it be that both have been too busy for the other, causing the ties that bind to start unraveling? "Chookma, Ewan." His voice is not pleasant... nor is it angry. Stoic would describe his tone better.

Oh, it's all of those reasons and more which may or may not become evident as things come along, if Sharpclaw talks or not. Perhaps he even seems more on-edge, not feral but sort of partially that way based on the way he eyes Soft-Feather almost warily, as if re-evaluating him as a friend, teacher, and more. Off on his own more lately, he's found himself unable to forget some of what Twilight Shiver once tried to put in his head, and the attacks by Tremor have left him, well, avoiding those closest to him as well on the off-chance someone else may try to hurt them, through him. But which is worse? That? Or his own distance from others? "Chookma, Solan," he answers quietly, not much detectable in his voice tone.

Soft-Feather has been chided many times for his spirit of forgiving and granting second chances. Perhaps this chiding is what has caused Soft-Feather to be a bit more harsh. They say that hard times and war has a way of making a person cold. Cold isn't the best way to put it, but kind, gentle, accepting, and jovial aren't qualities Feather seems to harness right now. The fact of the matter is with Tenderheart being so sick (and Soft-Feather having to be near to aide in her care), an Inkana would have been most helpful. Someone to talk to. With the on/offness of SilverFox's visits and the absence of perhaps Soft-Feather's most promising student, he hasn't had much time for niceties with other people. "You are growing and you have every right to come and go as you please. This I understand." He pauses briefly, "You are getting older and you wish to be out on your own?" He sighs a little, "This I understand." Here it comes. "What I don't understand is why you let our tribe suffer, no matter how little, by slacking off. What I don't understand," emotion and some anger creeps into his voice, "is why you risk becoming a wolf forever by not keeping with your training." It's clear that he would like an explanation. And, as his student and inkana, you most assuredly owe him one. There is another matter at the back of his mind... a trip coming up. Has the young one forgot that they leave in two days?

Sharpclaw settles his arms around his knees, glancing at the tufts of fur around his elbows and forearms. Seems to be just a bit thicker than usual... same with the hair/fur on his chest. He finds himself growing defensive at Soft-Feather's words, no matter how justified and correct they are. Soft-Feather's right, but the graisha's in a spot of denial, evident in his answer, gruff and guarded, but also more confrontational than he'd perhaps want it to be. "I don't need any more lessons. My control's good enough, and I can turn into a wolf and run with others and shift back afterwards, so it's not a problem." Left out is an additional explanation... that sometimes he's hunted and killed, and forgotten a few things that he'd done while being the wolf. But here comes the denial part. "Nobody's starving, and there's been enough food... why can't I also live my own life? Maybe I want to do things this way now." Finally, the accusation he immediately wishes he could take right back. "And you've been all busy with other things anyway, I think you forgot about me." Ah, teenage angst and rebelliousness. Yes, he knows about the trip. The one to Avalon. He's certain he wants to stay home.

Soft-Feather does not rise to this... nor does he lay off. Instead, it looks like something you said cut through him like a heated spear aimed at his heart. He stiffens at that last comment, eyes clouding just a little. The rage inside him is powerful... so powerful that if one were to look close, that Soft-Feather's fingernails were changing and course black hairs crawling up his hand. In fact, the normally thick mat on his chest, something his mate has always loved, begins to expand. Yes... if you were to look at him, you could tell his RAGE at what you said was overpowering his control... truly wise people would be leaving right now. However, like a wave of waves cascading over him, the hair recedes and his nails shorten. "I have not forgotten you, learner Sharpclaw."

Sharpclaw flinches at himself after making the accusation. How could he be so cold as to just write off taking care of Tenderheart as being 'other things?' If anything, he should've been there more for help and support. It's... not like him, and that bothers him. Forgotten, though, as he watches Soft-Feather begin to change slightly, knowing him well enough to know that he's not pleased, not happy, and definitely teetering on the edge. Sharpclaw stays. He's not as wise as he might fancy himself, but it's not so bad in the end once Soft-Feather's control returns. Could Sharpclaw have held it in so well, now? Most likely, the answer would be no if he were in Soft-Feather's skin. At the answer, he tries to mask a sudden scowl before it lingers too long, answering right away. "Yes you ha--" The words cut off though, and he ducks his head for whatever reason, turning it faintly at the 'learner' comment and the whole heavy mood of this encounter. Again, teacher is right, but student doesn't want to admit it.

"I cannot control what you do. Nor do I wish to. I am not your keeper. I am your teacher... or at least I was." Ooh... that comment is laden with whiplash and sting. "And just as I promised Many Shadows that I would guide you on your journey, I must keep my promise. No matter what you do or where you go, I will always still keep you in my heart. And I will always do my very best to keep you sane and Sylvan. But if you choose the quick and easy path, as Shiver did, forever lost will you be." His gaze is no longer of hatred or anger... he's beyond that. Obviously, he's entered teacher mode. The half-comment was still heard, but dismissed. He can see where his care of Tenderheart for most of the day would seem like ignoring to Claw... though it's the farthest from the truth.

Sharpclaw's eyes dart back to Soft-Feather for a moment as he says 'at least I was.' He probably asked for that, didn't he? But it's the first part of his answer that makes Sharpclaw think again... about not controlling him like Twilight Shiver once claimed he did. Why did he ever give anything Twilight Shiver said a second thought, anyway? Seems it's only caused him and others trouble. But he still thinks he's doing well enough with his shifting. Even after the past lessons, he's still got a lot to learn in that area. "You shouldn't worry... I'm not losing my control. I'm all right." But even the thickest mongrel should be able to note the sudden uncertainty in his words. He's starting to have second thoughts about his control. Somewhere, he started to go down the wrong path, and he needs to find the right one again. But he's not asking, just yet. His head ducks further so that just his eyes poke out from just above his kneecaps.

The teacher bows his head. He went through this once... at least, some reincarnation of it. The need to be independent. Knowing that no matter what, you are right. The feeling of not needing anyone else. But really, what does Claw have to rebel against? He was never controlled... he was never restricted. He was given a good home, a new family, and above all else, a second chance -- something many people don't get. The idea of accepting a graisha who went wild in his former village and was cast out was scary. What if Claw became wolf and killed one of the children? No... what could be construed as control was only helping to keep him safe. "Ewan..." the first time that name has been used in the last half hour, "I honestly do not know what happened between us. And I don't know why you have abandoned your training and taken the easy way out..." his eyes seem almost concerned, as if his former feelings of gentle and kindheartedness were reasserting themselves, "but if you continue, like Shiver will you be. Alone... angry... without an inkana and someday without your life. I do not wish to see you go down that path, for it is not the path for you. That is plain to see. Nokomis has plans for you... plans for me... plans for everyone. When I think of what you've been doing, everything in me screams out in pain, for I have tried to show you what is right... tried to show you love and compassion. Please, do not turn your back on me... on us." He gestures about the hut, meaning the tribe.

Sharpclaw's not certain what he's rebelling against either, to be honest. Is it just an excuse to get more attention again? To test Soft-Feather and see just how much Sharpclaw still means to him and others? To reaffirm that indeed, he is really cared for here and accepted? Well... maybe that's a small part of it, but he's not the manipulative sort and he still has too much of a human conscience to be so cold. No way would he do this just for attention. He's had it good, see. Maybe Twilight Shiver sought to undermine all that with his goading and encouragement of Sharpclaw to go his own way before the menace was dealt with once and for all. Whatever the case, Soft-Feather's heartfelt words hit home firmly, the teenager's head lifting again as his teacher pretty much bares his soul and lays it on the table for him. "I..." he starts, rather speechless. "I'm sorry for acting like I've been," he murmurs, looking away again afterwards, his posture not far off from a wolf showing throat even if it's not needed here. Insecure? By the Grandmother, he is.

Soft-Feather lets his body sag, as if every ounce of his strength had been directed into this one task. His gaze is soft now, his face relieved. His voice is gentle, his eyes comforting. "It is the past." Four words never carried as much weight as they do now. That one sentence forgave, washed away, and neatly folded the events and stored them. "You have been through much... and we understand. We've all been there before, young Ewan." He smiles slightly, "We will all work together. We must travel to Avalon." He jumps across that mental canyon and lands on your side. "And there, combined with Fox, we will make a difference once again. It is our way, inkana..." Inkana. Inkana. That's the first utterance of that term in quite a while where it's used to actually call someone friend -- it seems very heartfelt right now. However, it seems as if Soft-Feather isn't completely over everything. In fact, he probably never will be. Happenings such as these tend to change people in ways unforeseen. This change will undoubtedly be seen in the future. It's like Feather's mother used to say, "If you take a knife and stab a tree repeatedly, you have harmed it. Of course, you can take the knife out and cease... but the holes and sap will still be there. Words work the same way. You can apologize and take them back, but the wounds -- the damage -- is and always will be still there."

So everything may be better again, just like that? Sharpclaw's not entirely sure... doesn't feel as if it should really be that simple. Does that make any sense? "Maybe it's the past... but we can't forget it or maybe it'll come back again." That's a concern of his as he finds himself beginning to understand that he did come close to an invisible line that he could've crossed. Who knows how much longer it may have taken for him to be beyond approach? "But... I can't go to Avalon. I can't help them... I'm not good enough." He shakes his head, his opinion of his planting abilities waning in the wake of his recent performance in the fields. But at least, hearing the word 'inkana' used like that again... that helps.

Soft-Feather shakes his head, "The question is, do you want to go back to the past?" He lets you think on that because, ultimately, you are your own charge. You go where you lead yourself. No one else can do that for you. "As for Avalon," He smiles and looks into your eyes, "you have the skills...and you have the compassion. You need only to trust in yourself and Nokomis." Simple words... hard to do. But it must be done.

"No, I don't want to." Sharpclaw answers, still huddling over himself to an extent, working his way out of this funk he's in. Won't happen in the blink of an eye, of course. The eyes are still troubled, and he looks like he wants to believe Soft-Feather's supportive words. Wanting to and actually doing it aren't quite the same, yet. "I don't know... I'm not sure yet." Oh, he can do it...

Soft-Feather gestures for you to lie down. Lie down and listen.

Sharpclaw nods silently, going with the wordless suggestion and stretching out on his back again.

Soft-Feather draws the covers over you. "When I am unsure of myself... when I do not know the course of action I should take, I lie down." He settles the furs over your chest and drops them. "Then, I ask Nokomis for guidance." He retakes his seat. "Close your eyes and clear your mind. Let it come to you naturally. Sometimes, if we let our minds and rational thought get in the way, we hinder ourselves. Be calm... passive. Do so, and learn the way you will."

Sharpclaw looks up at Soft-Feather as the covers settle over him, listening to the words and trying to find that part of him again when he'd been finding the wolfen side much more appealing lately. Time to return to who he really is -- a combination of both, not just one or the other. Eyes shutting, he follows the directions, beginning to relax and attempt to clear all the noise out of his head.

Soft-Feather gently rises and snuffs out the torches. "Let your thoughts drift... ask yourself why you feel as if you aren't up to the job. And listen to the response." What does he mean listen to the response? What response? "You'll know what to do, Claw." Opening the door, he speaks up again, "I'll be out here. Let me know if you decide to join us."

Something of a confused expression registers on the still-young graisha's features, an eye cracking open slightly and a question on his tongue before he decides to let it go and try to see what... response... ends up coming, if any. "All right... inkana," he murmurs, that eye closing again. He can, and will do this.

You are standing on top of a grassy hill, surrounded by jade forest. The sky is the most gorgeous blue. The smells are so real -- pine, river, cooked meat. You are alone here... and the silence could make one calm. This mental landscape could offer you there peace you need... the peace to help you find that which you seek -- confidence.

Perhaps it's a hill Sharpclaw's even stood on before during some of the times he's gone off on his own, exploring his wolfen side further. It does seem to be familiar, and the things he can see and smell make the vision quite realistic. Peaceful... yes. Nothing else going on, and that's good for preventing needless distractions in what's an important time for him.

Your thoughts become whispers... or perhaps someone is whispering to you? Avalon... you hear. People in need. The whisperings are very low... almost like the breeze gently moving the tree branches.

Sharpclaw crouches in place, forearms settling on his inner thighs, his vision-self closing his eyes to focus in and concentrate better on the whispers that come to him, whether they're his or someone else's. The people of Avalon need help... his help. And he can help... right?

Avalon... the trees whisper. Tall grasses wave in the wind... help them. Beneath your feet, the grasses seem to sparkle, reaching up to you. As your mental self touches the grassy blades and few and far between wheat stalks, a wave of energy seems to radiate from your fingers. Slowly, the plants grow in size and this hilly place is filled with growing fruits, vegetables, wheat, corn. This place is a virtual stockpile of good food. Another breeze whispers... because of you... The breeze refers to the sudden growth.

But... these actions, the growth of the grass and other things... aren't they more reminiscent of something an earth-elementalist could do? Well, yes. They are. So why, then, is he going when someone like Many Shadows or Skyfire may be better suited for the task? His eyes open as the breeze brings understanding -- he can help show them how to nurture the land, rather than just making things grow. There's more to be taken from that, isn't there?

A hoe appears in your hand... startled, you drop it. As that fallen tool makes contact with the ground, this plush place vanishes -- and you're in the middle of a desert. See what you did? By putting down the hoe because of fear and uncertainty, instead of being confident, you killed everything. FLASH. You awaken... hopefully with your answer.

Sharpclaw jerks upright in the darkness, eyes wide at first with how that vision ended. But he's seen two different ways. Confidence in himself and what he can do brought life to the earth. Hesitancy and self-doubt brought nothing. He knows what he'd rather have, and he knows better what Avalon needs. He has to go. Hugging his hands to his shoulders for a moment, he takes calming breaths before slowly easing himself back into the bedding. It... should be all right.

Soft-Feather sits outside the door to the hut, wondering about many things. In the last three hours, sitting out here, he has had much time to reflect on what was said and done. He can only hope that indeed things will work out all right. For ShadowWatcher's vision spelt doom for Fox. But together, with Claw, they can hopefully prevent that danger. That is, IF Claw goes.

Chances are good Sharpclaw doesn't even know about ShadowWatcher's vision -- that's how out of the loop he'd been lately. Only time will tell whether that vision comes to pass or not, but the way it looks, Sharpclaw'll be there after all. His decision made, he drifts back to sleep.

FIN  

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