Round One: Swords of Freedom (Spring Festival)

[BrookSkimmer]

DO NOT POST HERE UNTIL YOU HAVE READ AND SIGNED THE OFFICIAL RULES SHEET. POSTING HERE IS FOR CROSSED SWORDS COMPETITORS ONLY!

You have until March 22nd for the first week of posting. Make your posts count!

Put a * at the beginning of the two posts you would like to have judged.
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Timballisto raised his eyes to the horizon. The sturdy young mouse was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms crossed over them.  His muzzle rested on his arms, helping to hold his gaze over the grey waters. A chill wind ruffled the salt grasses that clung to the sea cliff on which he sat. The mouse moved his shoulders to inch his cloak up further as a shiver raced down his spine. A storm was brewing, he could feel it in his bones. Foreboding, bruised clouds were accumulating out at sea.

They called this season spring. Tim chuckled as he stood up, brushing stray bits of grass from his tunic. Well, it was early spring. Very early spring. Another puff of cold air blew the bits of grass over the edge of the cliff. Tim ran a paw through his russet headfur and sighed. How long had it been since his dear friend Martin had left? He missed Martin and all the adventures they had taken part of in the old days. Long ago it seemed that he and Martin had played about the cave dwellings together, each being brought up by a warrior father.  Tim remembered the day his father had given him a wooden sword and taught him the ways of the warrior. He remembered the day he had been given a real sword of his own. He remembered the day Martin had saluted him, given him a charge to watch over their home, and gone away to seek revenge.

Yes, there was much to avenge in this place, where blood had flooded to meet the receding tide. Tim's eyes hardened as he rested a paw to the hilt of his sword. He looked out over the shore, noting a set of five ballista that stood proudly above their homes in the caves. He had created the launching weapons to protect his home. However, they were the second step.

The first was the Swords of Freedom. Never again would vermin come and steal their lives and loved ones away. He and his alliance would make sure of that. With their blood, their breath, and their hearts, all that were members of the alliance had sworn to protect their homeland from evil, at any cost.

Now was not the time for such thought. Though it was still quite cold, spring was on the way. Warmth, growth, new life springing forth. The Spring Festival should be well under way by now. Laughing, eating, competing, and generally enjoying the fruits of the new season marked the young but already traditional event. Tim was sure that by now more than half of the inhabitants of the area were inside the Hall of Dawnlight, enjoying themselves and the good company.

He should join them, he was their leader. The role still felt odd to him. The mantle had passed all too quickly from Martin to himself. But, it was a yoke he would bear. In honor of Martin, in honor of Luke. The mouse warrior trotted down the sea grass path from the sea cliffs to the cave dwellings where they would be waiting for him. He would make a speech, recalling the might of the Swords of Freedom. They would cheer and feel safe at his words. He would die to defend his words of hope, of freedom, of life.

As he drew near Timballisto spotted many creatures he knew, some from the Swords of Freedom, others plain working beasts that called this desolate shore home.

[Icefire]

*Liv Aegis drew in a deep breath and allowed a brief smile to dance across her features as she stood staring out to sea. How she loved the feel of the icy winds on her whiskers! Many thought of the wind as an enemy, or at least as an annoyance, chilling them to the bone and causing them to run for cover from his blasts. Liv knew better. She saw the winds as a young one. Sometimes he was in a playful mood, brushing up against her whiskers and tugging at her skirts; often he threw a tantrum and fought her as she walked, though he always turned to delight her once more as though to apologize for his bad manners.

She stopped and shook her head. What silliness! Perhaps Spring was right around the corner...

She had risen before dawn to walk the shores to the North of her tribe's caves. This had been her habit for many long seasons now. It gave her a chance to get away by herself and think without interruption (for the most part). It also gave her another chance to keep an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign of a sail, be it friend or foe. This was not without cause. Liv had witnessed much innocent blood shed upon these shores. It seemed as though she could see them now...

Death! Death was everywhere. She saw the bodies scattered across the shore and the blood staining the sand and flowing to the mix with the tide. There! Sailing away, the Goreleech with its blood red sails and its crew of vermin headed by an evil stoat who was probably still laughing at the little mice who had been unable to defend themselves. In a daze, Liv stumbled along barely recognizing the remnants of her tribe. Suddenly, she saw a sight that made her blood run cold. Now she was running, running to the side of her dead mother. She held her, she knew not how long, until she heard her father calling her name. She saw him fall to his knees beside them, tears streaming down his face as he saw what the evil ones had done to his beloved wife. Cries filled the air....

Liv took in a sharp breath and stood there panting as she took in her true surroundings. She felt tears streaming down her face, the tears she had been unable to shed that day of horror. She placed a paw on the hilt of her sword and stood glaring at the horizon as she once more swore to herself that she would never again let such a slaughter happen.

When she had calmed herself, she began to slowly walk back towards the caves. There was a feast to celebrate the arrival of Spring and Liv knew that she would be missed if she did not soon return. Another blast from the icy wind informed her that soon the rain would soon join in the wind's tantrum and they would then have a full out storm. The closer she got to the caves, the more of her fellow creatures she came across. She nodded politely to their greetings, but in the end decided she wasn't quite ready to face her tribe. She wandered up the path to the top of the sea cliffs, nodding to Timballisto as he passed. When she had reached the top, she turned and again looked out to sea. She thanked the seasons that they were now in a time of peace and that she had her fellow Swords for when that peace ended.

[Ceteruler]

*Marcus let out a long, slow breath as he sat down against the cave wall. Sitting with one leg straight in front of him and the other bent up so he could rest his elbow on it, he put his chin in one hand and stared out over the beaches and cliffs before him, darkened by the foreboding clouds above. The light from the cave behind him shone on the ground and sparkled in the air, making it a little difficult for him to see, and the noise that came from within caused Marcus's brow to furrow and his tongue to lick dry lips.

Laughter.

I can't remember the last time I've laughed, the younger mouse thought to himself. It was rather true. Ever since... well. This wasn't the time nor place to think about that. Spring was arriving. Rather early. With that, joy was supposed to follow, along with the laughter he heard from those who were enjoying the spring. But, no. He was not part of that any longer. The will to laugh, the meaning of laughter, escaped him, even after all this time.

With a swift motion, he glanced back into the cave. They all had reason to laugh. Aye, and let them. It's good. But not for him. Laughter only served as a painful memory of the past for him. Memories of his family, of Martin and Luke, of all the good things that had happened... and passed away. Like a wave tossed in the ocean, the good times had risen, then in the blink of an eye they crashed against the unrelenting sands, pulling back into the endless depths of the vermin-trod seas, never to be seen again. The mouse stood now, walking away from the cave. He nodded once as he passed Timballisto, the leader.

"Good evening," Marcus greeted him as he passed by, amiable in tone but not of facial expression. Not even waiting for a response he brushed by the leader of Swords of Freedom, walking quickly out to the cliff that overlooked the ocean. He noticed that Liv was there and stopped about twenty yards behind her, hoping she didn't notice him. He turned to his left and walked in that direction, down the sandy slope of the cliff with a bit of care.

Sitting down about halfway there, he glanced back. No light... no laughter. Marcus was out of earshot, although he could still see Liv's back from a distance. The mouse stared at her for a second. She is the one whose father died last winter... he remembered. Perhaps that was why she was out here. It was none of his business, but he assumed it was so. Although the storm was dark, and light was scarce, he still studied her from afar. She is a rather pretty mouse.. he mused. Not nearly, though, as...

"No!" he muttered fiercely, shaking his head once. Now was not the time for such thoughts! Shivering a bit as an icy blast of wind swept over his brown fur, he picked up a rock and threw it a fair distance toward the sea. It landed with no sound- too far away, and wind blocked out most sounds he heard at this point.

"And stay over there!" The rock, his thoughts, now placed far away, he turned his face back in the direction of the cave. Perhaps he should go back, and see if Timballisto was going to say anything...

[Rainshadow]

  Spera the young squirrelmaid was in the caves, twirling in circles as she danced to lively music.  Her fellow cavebeasts had told her to sing along, but she couldn't find any words to fit the beautiful music, so she started dancing.  How thrilled she was when others joined in!

 This is just the thing that everybeast needs, Spera thought as she took hold of a mousebabe's paw and spun with him.  We all need a bit of joy in our lives, to combat the sorrow.

 The pretty squirrelmaid felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to see a handsome squirrel holding out his paw.  She accepted it, and they danced in the cave.  Spera was sure that this squirrel was going to flirt with her, and she enjoyed it.  She, of course, was a good looking maiden, and others were often attracted to her.  It got annoying at times, but it felt good to be loved.

 The song ended, and Spera stopped dancing.  She needed a good long break!  She stepped outside, declining her dance partner's offer to go for a walk.  She wanted to be alone for a bit.  She also didn't want him to see her gasping for breath after that song.

 Spera walked along the shore, swinging her arms and whistling the cheery tune she'd just heard.  She picked up a pretty shell and looked at it, smiling.  It was the little things in life that made it so good, she decided.  Why did other beasts have to focus on the sadness in life when they could widen their view to see the beauty around them?

 With that thought, Spera set the shell on a rock, hoping that somebeast would find it later.  No reason to keep this little bit of joy to herself.

[Leatho Shellhound]

*The wind was getting stronger and the clouds on the horizon were getting closer and darker. One of the first drops of rain landed on Vannøyne's nose. He wiped it off with his sleeve, making the fur on his nose spike up. His eyes were grey, and tears were forming in them, but none fell. He was too battle hardened to cry.  His mind always went back to the time Seafur, the mouse maid, was lost in the storm in days like this. He was thinking of all the ways she could have survived, but he never really believed them deep down in his heart. The truth was almost to much for him.
    The grass blew in the opposite direction of the sea, which meant it was blowing east. He saw as the waves crashed onto the beach and then rolled back again, the seaweed being pulled back into the deep blue and green water. A squirrel's footpaw prints being washed away, leaving the sand smooth.
    Letting his hand drop on the hilt of his sword, he grasped it and pulled it out. He held it up to his face. It was a unique sword, made from from the tooth of the narwhal, it twisted like a screw. It was ideal for stabbing through an enemies armor. It had a silver and black handle that he had crafted himself. He pointed it out to the forming clouds seeing if it was still strait. Satisfied, he laid it at his side in the green grass. His vermin pelt that he wore around his shoulders was damp from the falling rain, and there was a tap tap clang as the water drops hit his metal helmet. The smell of steaming rock blew up to him, from the sun heated stoneface cliff cooled off by the rain.
    He heard some soft footsteps moving toward him. He wasn't sure who it was, but he knew he would soon findout.

[WarriorOfMossflower]

*
An albino squirrelmaid sat against the wall, out of breath and panting from the recent reel. Sora Shirosaki was fit and in good health, but it had been so long since she had last danced!
This is good. Everybody has been needing a break like this, a time to relax.
"Miz Sora, wassamatter?"
The white squirrel took a Dibbun, who had just asked her the question, and set him on her knee. "It's been too long since I've done that, youngster."
"You'sa only si'teen," the Dibbun pointed out. "You notta old one!"
"That's right," Sora answered when she finally managed to decipher the tiny squirrel's quick-speaking manner. "But I don't have nearly as much energy as you do. Now run along and dance again if you want to!"
The little squirrel hopped off her lap with a giggle and dashed away, flagging his bushy tail in farewell. Sora smiled to herself as she stood and went to pick up her mug of strawberry fizz. She was glad that the little ones--most of them, anyways--weren't afraid of her anymore. Initially, when she had come to the North Coast at the age of thirteen, Dibbuns had been frightened of her for her unusual pink-red eyes.
The albino squirrel had once been a slave on a southern isle. There, Sora had been mistreated and abused by the vermin and wildcats that ruled the island. She had grown to resent it, and for years on the island she had been bitter. But then, she was blessed with a miracle. There had been an old squirrel named Bristle, who had continued to nag at her until she finally spoke to him. Bristle had taught her to see the joy in life when there was any to see, but he had also taught her to fight for what she thought was right.
"If you've nothing to fight for, then you've no reason to live. That's the way it is. If you're willing to sacrifice for who and what you love, then I promise you'll find happiness, Sora Shirosaki..." Bristle had told her.
Those were words that Sora lived by, to this day. She glanced around the Hall. Everybody that she cared for in her new life was present in the room. Well, almost everybody. There were the exceptions of a few of her allies, the Swords of Freedom, but they were likely to be outside on their own. She had no reason to fear for their welfare: she knew by now that they were all capable of handling themselves, in battle or just while roaming the land. Still, Sora stepped briefly outside, wondering what might have drawn the warriors away.
Brisk, salty wind blasted her in the face as soon as she set paw out in the open, ruffling her snow-white fur. She put a paw against the wall to steady herself until the gust died down, then stepped out a little farther. She nodded to Timballisto and watched him approach.
"Seems like a storm is brewing," Sora remarked, nodding in the direction of the tumultuous dark clouds that were stacking out at sea. She flicked her left ear, which was bent backwards at the tip, in surprise as she felt a raindrop splatter against it.

[Icefire]

As the Wind's temper rose, the rain started to fall. He took the opportunity to blow some of the frigid water into Liv's face. She chuckled a bit as she drew her cloak around her in an useless attempt to protect herself. The chuckles quickly died as she reflected that she really ought to join the party. However, just as she made up her mind to go back to the caves, another icy blast caught her full in the face. Ah, she loved the rain nearly as much as the wind! Surely a few more minutes wouldn't hurt! Besides, the morbid reflections she had allowed herself to indulge in would in no way make her a pleasant addition to the celebration.

So, instead of following the path back down to the shores, she turned and continued to follow the cliff's edge. It wasn't long before she realized she wasn't alone. Near her on the cliffs stood a young mouse who appeared to be examining his blade....in the middle of a storm....when he could be celebrating the arrival of Spring. She knew at once it was Vannøyne, but why was he up here? It didn't take her long to guess as the rain began to fall harder - Seafur. Her boat had gone down in a storm that had begun much like this. Liv remembered it well. The tribe had searched long and hard for Seafur, led by Vannøyne, his eyes constantly grey with worry and sorrow. He refused to give up the search for several long weeks, his eyes flashing green the instant anyone would suggest they give up and hold a funeral for the missing maid. Even now, his eyes typically turned grey whenever he turned them to the sea.

Liv sighed and wondered why so many lives had been tainted by tragedy here in this cold, lonely land.

Liv had known Vannøyne almost his whole life and knew what the color of his eyes indicated well enough to know to avoid him when his eyes were grey or green. She also knew him well enough to guess that his eyes were probably grey now with the storm growing overhead. However, instead of leaving him alone this time, she decided to approach him, reflecting that her eyes would probably be grey now, too, if they changed color with her mood.

She took a deep breath to make sure her own emotions were under control before saying, "Greetings, Vannøyne!" She paused and glanced up at the skies, "How are you on this sunny Spring day?"

She almost bit her tongue when she realized he might see this as a mockery. "And this is why you make a point of avoiding these conversations, Liv!" She thought to herself,"I certainly hope he held on to at least part of his sense of humor!"

(OOC@Leatho)

[Leatho Shellhound]

Vannøyne, with out turning around knew who it was. He answered her by saying, "If this is sunny weather, than I wonder what a rainy day would be like." He patted the ground near him with his paw, beckoning her to come and sit.
     By then the wind was very strong and the rain hit them mercilessly. "Come, sit down," he yelled over the storm. He was actually glad for the company of the mousemaid. His face did not show it, but there was a tint, a small shade of light blue in the dark, grey, sinister and laughless, eyes. She was not as pretty and radiant as Seafur. But was she was not ugly. He said to himself, in fact now that he thought about it she was one of the more fair damsels in the caves.
     He was by then soaked to the skin, the water was running down his helmet and scale armor, pooling around him. A lighting bolt flashed above, threatening to strike him. The loud, deafening thunder was quick to follow.

[Dannflower Reguba]

*    There was a squirrel inside the cave, and her name was Xbalantie. The celebration had hit her by surprise, and she was trying to get out, "Geez... who would've thought you could fit an army in this cave." She eventually broke free, "Darts, nuts, knife, bread, cup .... All here." She never went anywhere without at least one Bola on her, so she didn't bother checking.... Which was a mistake this time. After noticing the disappearance, the squirrel whirled around, nearly colliding with a friendly young hedgehog delivering her lost weapon.

    "Social events. BAH!" Yet another excuse to be distracted by dancing and singing, sporting and competing. Xbalantie sometimes wondered whether or not she was the only beast who actually really gave her thoughts to her work, "Of course not, Timballisto's almost always out and about... Speaking of Timballisto..." The cold squirrel nodded her hooded head to the leader of the caves as she passed him on her way up.

    Upon seeing Liv and Vannøyne conversing, she did an about turn on the path, and took a different route to a new looking post, no sense in disturbing those two, especially since she had yet to learn this "color code" that Vannøyne apparently possessed. The post wasn't much, but it was enough. Xbalantie could see most of the important cost from here, and ships were easily within sight and sound in time to be reported, and ready to fend off. The rain had started just before she got to the post , "No sense in eating now, nuts will have to wait."

    There was one distinct advantage to this post, it had a funnel type of structure behind it, allowing Xbalantie the chance to here something, and then its echo, thereby hearing the sound twice. This advantage wasn't helping right now, as she ended up hearing the two mice's conversation twice. She didn't want to hear it, but she couldn't exactly plug her ears since hearing would be her main way to look out with the festering storm approaching. She grimaced, "Could you two talk somewhere else! It's so hard to... *sigh*" it was so hard to tune out of one conversation and listen to another, especially with sensitive ears.

(OOC: @ Plotline)

[Rainshadow]

  *  Spera continued her walk in the rain and the wind, smiling in spite of the weather.  She didn't know why she was smiling, but it seemed as though today was a very good day.  She didn't think about much as she walked, but soon felt something at her footpaw.  Bending down, Spera picked up a small, pink tulip.

  "Hello, you," she said, smelling it.  "You're the first of the year, aren't you, Mr. Tulip?  Must be so lonely here, the only flower in this area, huh?  Do you want a friend?"  Spera tucked the tulip into her belt and continued on her way, only now she was skipping.

  Soon the squirrelmaid came across a familiar path leading up to one of her favorite places:  The cliffs.  Spera looked up, wondering if anybeast was up there.  She couldn't see anything though, because the rain was so heavy and the sky so dark.  She shrugged and started to walk up, once again humming the tune she'd heard earlier.  It was very catchy!

  As Spera was making her way up, she noticed that there was another beast there.  She realized that it was Timballisto and she smiled, offering a nice "Hello" before continuing up.  Then she paused and spun on her footpaw, walking back to the mouse.  "Timballisto, sir, shouldn't you be celebrating with the rest of the goodbeasts in the caves?  We're having a wonderful time, and it would be fantastic if you could join us.  At least you'd be a bit drier!"  She took the pink tulip from her belt and reached out her arm, handing the young flower to Timballisto.  "Spring has finally come!"

[BrookSkimmer]

Tim smiled as Spera pawed him the tulip. She had quite the contagious smile that one. The young warrior placed the flower under the fold of his shirt collar and nodded to Spera.

"Thank ye miss Spera. It is true, spring has come to our frozen lands. However, it seems the winter is not ready to leave us." The mouse turned his head as a strong blast of clod air hit from the side. "I was just making my way to the festival if you'd care to attend me?"

He ushered the squirrel forward with a nod and turned to call out to those around the cliffs. He had seen quite a few members of the Swords of Freedom outside of the meeting cave. They would want to hear what he had to say.

"Swords! Your presence is needed at the festival!" Tim called when the wind died down. His voice would just barely carry to Liv and Vannøyne who were out on the sea cliffs in one direction and just to Xbalantie who he had seen walk over the top of the sandy cliffs.

Timballisto remembered well the day the Swords of Freedom had been formed. Not long after their home had been invaded and blood had been shed. They had come together, pledging their lives to the blade in protection of their home. He knew he could count on them and marveled at the variety of creatures that made up their group.  From Spera whose light heart so often showed, to Vannøyne, Timballisto's strong right paw, to Xbalantie's steely nature, they formed a force to be reckoned with. Liv, Shirosaki, Marcus, Frost, and Nevfae were all necessary members as well. Tim knew the protection of their home depended on the Swords of Freedom, in more way than just their protection. The group brought hope to an entire community from which hope had been stolen.

As they came to the cavern, Tim spied Marcus sitting nearby. The mouse never wore a jovial expression, in fact Timballisto was sure he had not seen Marcus smile since the day of the attack. Perhaps he would never smile again. The events that fateful day had been enough to steal joy from so many for so long. The Spring Festival had begun two seasons back as a remedy for the despair winter and memories of the sea raiders could bring.

"Marcus," He nodded to the mouse in return for his greeting. "Could you step inside to listen for a few moments?"

The mouse brushed water droplets from his jerkin as he stepped into the large meeting cavern. A blast of warm air met him as he used a towel from the stack that had been placed by the door to dry his head fur.

"Good day mister Timballisto sir!" A young mousemaid offered Tim a tankard of ale. He accepted it and took a swig.

"A good day to you as well young miss. Thank ye for the ale." He turned his head to see if the other members of the Swords of Freedom had followed him in. Tim smiled at Spera. "It's starting to come down out there. I'm glad we came inside when we did!"

[Dannflor]

 Frost a pure white female mouse about the age twenty five picked a pink Tulip from the green grass near the caves. At last spring might be here. She loved snow but it was a long and cold winter. Away from the hubbub from the caves she found peace and quite. The rain that was pouring down soaked her cloak but she was still smug and dry.
    She was interrupted by another female mouse about the same age came out and yelled to her ''Frost miss come in here before you die of wetness''. Frost nodded and slowly taking time walked into the caves.
   Being a member of The Swords of Freedom was a special thing at her age but Timballisto allowed her to join anyway.she sat at the table nibbling a candied nut when she was invited to dance a thing she loved to do.
   After the dance she sat down and nibbled on a pastry. But Timballisto entered and sat at his place.

[Rainshadow]

  Spera walked in front of Timballisto, happy to be going inside.  She had gotten soaked and caught her breath after that dance.  That was all she wanted.

  As they walked inside, the squirrelmaid hummed a song, skipping to the music.  Once they were in the caves, a squirrelbabe handed her a towel.  "Thank you," Spera said, smiling to the little child.  She dried herself off, leaving her fur standing up in little spikes all over her head.  She tried to get them to sit down, but her fur was very rebellious, so she ended up looking like a wet hedgehog.

  "It's starting to come down out there. I'm glad we came inside when we did!"

  Spera giggled at Tim's comment.  "You mean it wasn't coming down before?  Ah, yes, that must've just been a little bit of drizzle we had earlier, with a soft breeze carrying it towards us."  She winked, grinning at the mouse.  Then she heard another song coming from the performing beasts.  She gasped.  This was one of her favorites!

  Taking Tim's paw, Spera fluttered her long eyelashes, saying, "Would you care to dance with me, sir?"

[Ceteruler]

*The mouse watched Liv as she walked slowly down the cliff line to another young mouse. Marcus strained his vision to find that it was Vannoyne, the one with eyes that changed color. Hmm... It seems that most of the mice are out on the shores while the Spring Festival is happening. As another icy blast of wind, swept over him, he shivered a bit, not caring that his fur and clothes were getting soaked.

Looking over to his side, Marcus noticed a young plant next to him that had somehow sprouted already, and in the hard, infertile ground no less. The little green sprout was blown about wildly by the wind and rain, battered and barely surviving. Watching it, the Swords of Freedom warrior was dismayed when a new burst of wind tore the little thing out of the ground by its roots, driving it down into the dark, dreadful deluge. The little indentation left by the plant was quickly wiped away by the rain, mud, and wind. It was as if it never existed.

Such a shame, he considered, That plant was cut off before it ever had a chance.  Like... With a sudden yell of rage the mouse stood, drawing his sword and thrusting it deep into the ground, exerting all his strength as the blade sunk fully into the muddy ground. These memories, they kept torturing him! Why did it have to be so? It was too much for him, even after all this time! He looked down at the end of the hilt, which was bare metal. Although in reality it was his own reflection that stared back at him in the darkened place, he saw only the face of his beloved son, the little face of the mouse he had fathered pale and still.

"Andrew..." he whispered. "Why? Why do you have to be gone?" His tears of anger mingling with the rain that tracked down his soaked face, he withdrew the sword and held it point-first toward the sea. "You vermin will pay for this!" Aye, and no amount of deaths could fully satisfy this mouse. Not until there was not one vermin left to destroy innocent children's lives. Not until his death would Marcus stop fighting for his family. They had deserved better than this.

Now panting a bit from his emotional outburst, Marcus sheathed his sword, both fists clenched tightly. This storm was reviving his memories. No point in staying out here any longer. There are others to watch the shore. The mouse turned his back to the sea, ignoring the frequent blasts of wind that threatened to push him off balance. With slow, measured steps, he made his way back to the cave, his eyes focused straight ahead.

Upon reaching the cave, he paused, standing at the cave entrance. The light was welcoming and warm, the creatures merry and mingling, and the music joyful and jubilant. It was all well and good. With a small sigh, the hard-faced Marcus took one step more, dripping water all over, into the cave, glancing about. He hoped no one would take notice of him as he slowly made his way to a rock bench and sat down, watching everyone enjoy the spring. He wasn't enjoying it. Nor would he ever. Not like this.

[Icefire]

(See OOC)

Liv gave up trying to protect herself with her cloak, which was soaked through now. As the thunder boomed overhead, Liv sat down on the cliff edge next to Vannøyne and dangled her feet off the edge. She lifted her face to the rain and commented to Vannøyne, "I love this kind of weather! It always makes me think of my father. He loved it even more than I do! He would often pull me out and dance with me in the rain."

She glanced at Vannøyne before regarding the crashing waves far below. She knew she would have to choose her words carefully. She never knew how he would respond with his constantly changing moods. There were times when his moodiness made her wonder why Timballisto had chosen to train the young mouse as second in command. Would his mood swings put them in a dangerous situation someday? Liv trusted Timballisto, however, and knew he wouldn't do anything that could endanger the tribe. She was sure that she would understand Tim's choice in time.

"Actually, this weather usually makes me think of all those we've lost. My father and mother, Sayna, Fripple, Joan and little Andrew," She glanced at him and hesitated before adding, "Seafur...It saddens me some. It's almost as though the clouds are crying for those of us left behind. Then, I remember my father's joy in the rain as well as the smile that crossed his face just before...well, you know..." She paused and took a deep breath to hold the tears back before continuing, "Then, I wonder what they must think of us in Dark Forest, mourning for them instead of living for them. Silly of us really! I don't think they would really want us to go on mourning forever, but instead live on and look forward to the day we'll see them again...it is hard though, isn't it?"

She looked at Vannøyne, wondering how he would respond.

"Swords! Your presence is needed at the festival!"

Liv looked down at the sound of Tim's call. She did feel a little better. Maybe she just needed to ramble for a while...

She stood up and brushed off her dress. She gave up after trying to fight the winds for control of her skirts. She frowned at the muddy spots on her dress, "Hm...I shall have to change before taking part in the celebration."

She glanced at Vannøyne, "Shall we join the others?"