It was long after Bald Mountain had been established - ten eights and some turns - Apogee was seen as a leader, as she had been one of the few brave souls to actually locate a suitable home for her people. After the disasters that befell Twin Peaks Glimmering Falls holt, it was only proper that she locate somewhere that could enable the few survivors in her band to thrive.
She found a good place, in the hollows of a rocky valley. At the north end, lay Bald Mountain - a squat, somewhat unimpressive hill mostly barren of trees and shrubs (hence the name). Drifting south, a flat valley floor surrounded by sloping hills. To each side, there was something of a unique terrain. Swampy lands on the south-west, where the rivers and streamlets in the mountains all combined into a sloshy marsh. An arid semi-desert scrubland to the east of the mountains, where more dangerous prey was usually chased. To the north, surrounding the whole area, was the forest which the group had traveled through.
Humans lived somewhat nearby, but never came close to this area. Perhaps their mythology and campfire stories told of bad magic and strange beasts - because High Ones magic had been used here and in certain instances, had gone sour after the centuries. Certain areas of the Holt, even the Elves avoided because of the taint. Magic could be used against its owner, events had a way of twisting around and becoming dangerous.
Squall remained by Apogee's side in the hundred years they'd known one another. The much older Apogee and younger Squall had both taken lovers during that time, too, but they mostly shared - either their lovers, or just each other. And through it all, Apogee swore blind that she was no leader.
Her quiet way, lonely in the hills, was to watch and dive and hunt. It wasn't to lead holt activities. She was known as a prankster, a wild loner with crazy ideas in her head, back at the Peaks. But then so many things changed her over the seasons...
The deaths of her parents saddened her - but she had not been so very close to them that her life ended then too. Her fall from a cliffside which ended in her changing her name from Tantumble to Apogee and cutting off most of her long, luxurious hair. Her ill-fated meeting with the one elf who knew her soul name without being told - Tallow, the candle maker. His death at the fangs of a long tooth cat devistated Apogee, for a time, since she knew that her chance - perhaps her one and only chance - to bear a true recognized child, had gone. Then, of course... The quake at Twin Peaks. It wasn't just a little ground-quake like the one which loosened the cliffs that killed her parents. It was a major, strong and lasting earthquake that even the humans - this long past that time - would speak about in hushed tones and pray to their gods.
But there had been wonders that Apogee would never regret having seen. Flying on her new bond Two-Claw, then known as Silly One for his habit of chasing ground squirrels... Leaping from eagle to eagle in games with Talon and Catcry. Finding the mysterious caverns where she first met Squall. Teaching Torre the human child how to tame his own eagle... Those things would rest firmly in her heart.
Apogee looked at the small band of elves that called her leader, and smiled. "I'm honored that you continue to keep me in this seat of honor," she said, humbly. She had also grown used to speaking in sedate terms that everyone would respect. "We have been expecting a hard winter, and I think this one will be that season. What sorts of supplies do we have on hand, then? We have to last through this season without risking any of us to hunting accidents or exposure. The caverns are safe, and warm with the hot springs, but they only supply us with enough water to live on."
Rasp spoke up immediately. "Even if we run low on some things, the split-deer will come through the valley as they always do. I'll be able to keep us fed."
"That's counting on the deer being able to get through the snow drifts to the north," Shatter said, his pale hair falling in his eyes. "They might not make it."
Rasp rolled her eyes and huffed. Shatter kept his gaze on her, everyone knew that he was looking for a lifemate and she was just about his speed. If only she wanted to pair off more permanently... But he was right, and Apogee knew it.
"Well, what do we have?" Apogee asked again, and this time Rasp's brother Clearwater answered.
"We've got eight and two baskets of dried fruits from the harvest," he said. "And, I think there are more mushrooms than ever growing down in the steam rooms."
Several people groaned - it had been often enough that they'd had to subsist on mushrooms and moss.
"And I've got four and one large fish in the smoke house," Warmhand suggested, Rasp and Clearwater's father the healer of their Holt had many talents.
Apogee nodded, "that's good. I know how you catch fish twice your size, Warmhand, so if they're even half that size we'll have food for eights."
There was a pause, as people seemed to be thinking of their private stores. Eventually, it looked as though the holt had a decent supply of dried fruit, smoked meat, and other such things that would tide them over if they were careful.
And as if to illustrate how bad the winter was going to be, suddenly, a chill wind swept through the meeting hall. Above, snow had begun to fall already - even though the whitecold season had hardly begun.
"Well, if the split-deer make it, we'll be depending on your skills, huntress Rasp - and yours, Whip. You two are our best hunters. Shatter, I want you to assist them if you can."
The grey-silver haired elf smiled and the room was filled with sounds of 'deer in rut' courtesy of his magic power. "I'll try."
The group broke up, and Squall watched Apogee from her perch on the higher ledge within the room. Apogee puttered around, trying to rearrange the furs and cushions so that the falling snow outside wouldn't get to them through the air vent.
"You know, they look to you for a reason, my love." Squall said. She smiled, her soft, welcoming lips broadening open. "Yet you still deny it. They listen to you because you make sense."
"They never used to, when they lived in the Peaks." Apogee stated, "when I wasn't quite as responsible as I am now..."
"Ahh, responsibility has a way of making people boring... Don't you think?"
"You think I'm boring." Apogee said, not looking up.
"I never said that. What I mean is, there's still no lasting snow on the ground, and the sun is still shining. We're farther south than we were before, in the Peaks. If the winter does snow us in at least we'll still be able to fly above it."
Softly, Apogee said, "you might," and Squall took in a little breath.
"I'm sorry, Apogee... I didn't mean to bring-"
"It's all right, but... I've never given any thought to Two Claws death. Not until he did, anyway. I knew that he was growing elderly but... It's easy to ignore those signs. And there won't be another nest of eagle eggs here unless we can locate more of the ones Talon bred."
"Well, I suppose we can't really do that this season, it would take too long to get north and back." Squall admitted. Her power over weather was good enough to keep her dry and warm in a blizzard, and perhaps to call clouds on a dry day, but she could not stop the progression of the seasons. "Will you come up with me anyway? You know I miss it having to carry you."
"Having to? I'm such a burden now..." Apogee grinned. Though she was well over four hundred turns old, her face betrayed a child who would never really grow up. Apogee loved the heights, loved flying - on an eagle's back on with her lovemate's magic assisting her, or even with her glider when she finally assembled it.
So the pair lifted into the sky, through the natural air-vent to the main meeting chamber, and into the snowy sky.
***
Below, Rasp and Whip carried their weapons outside, and got ready for a hunt. Though some of the elves of Bald Mountain had started out with bond-animals, so few of them had complimentary genders of them that there were no offspring, and therefore no more bonds for most. Those who could pair minds with any animal were at an advantage of course, for there were animals aplenty around the Holt. But some were rather set on having the same type they'd had before.
Whip might have been one of those. But he rarely spoke of his bond cat Alliance after she died some seasons back. Her companionship was all he had had left, other than Hammersmith, who he'd confessed his soul name to - because their whole family had been decimated by the quake at the Peaks. Whenever someone said there was a cat wandering around the Holt, Whip rushed out to check - was it young? Old? Of the type to maybe try bonding?
Rasp did no such thing, when she heard of them. She'd rather hunt either beside one, or without them around - the cat riders of the Peaks were strong like her, protectors of the Holt and solid in their ways. But it had been decades since she even considered trying to bond to a cat. She preferred walking, to riding.
"Do you think the herd will really get stuck, or is that just Shatter talking nonsense?" Rasp asked, trying to coax something out of Whip. He'd become so silent after his feline friend died.
"I think there is always that possibility." Whip said. "Whatever we can get right now will help. Won't it?"
"Of course it will," Rasp said, turning aside. Though she was rough and tumble, she also knew when one of the few elves in the Holt wasn't feeling up to par. Whip was obviously having one of his bad days. "Now, what do you think we can get today? The herds won't be coming in for at least another few eights... They have been getting later and later." She pondered aloud, "I wonder, maybe it's their farther-north passage."
Whip grunted, and they went on in silence. Rasp did not feel like trying out a sending on Whip, he was rarely in the mood for even private conversation. They heard the rustling of an animal in the shrubbery nearby, and readied their weapons.
***
"If you hold it this way," Rib said, "you'll have no trouble carving it. But you've got to grip it carefully, and remember that it's going to sting when you start striking it."
Orange Peel nodded, he was learning the finer points - or perhaps the starting points - of creating a good stone tip for a spear. He held the dark stone in one hand, it was nested in a protective leather scrap so his hand didn't get cut. The other piece of sharp stone he had in his right hand would become a hammer.
"Why can't Hammersmith just make us more?" Orange Peel groaned, "I mean, he's the real weaponsmith."
"Are you saying that I am not good enough at it to teach you?" Rib stood, rather irate.
"No, I just mean... I'm no good at this. I'm no good at anything much anyway." He lowered his head, annoyed with himself. "I'm just better at tending the animals and looking for fruits. Not this sort of thing..."
Rib settled in beside the younger elf and said, "everyone needs to know how to do these things, Peel, because if something were to happen to any of us, someone else would have to fill their duties somehow."
"You aren't saying that something bad is going to happen, are you?" Orange Peel lifted his eyes to Rib's and almost sobbed.
"No - no!" Rib carefully distracted the other by grasping the spear head and striking tool, and trying to move Peel's hands. "Just try it out, and maybe you'll learn to like doing this."
"It's not like carving bone," he said, chipping carefully. He knew that he'd have to concentrate harder on it, because the first few tries he didn't even hit the stone. "My hands are afraid to come together with sharp stones in them!"
"Well that's no surprise!" Rib laughed. They continued their lesson in the warmer and nicely torchlit area of the caverns above the hot spring well.
***
"Do you think there'll be enough reeds in this batch to make what we need?" Asked Heartshy. She deposited another armload of fresh-dried reeds onto the pile near Brittlebough, and dusted her arms off.
"I think this will do, yes," the plant-shaper announced. "You've already done so much, I wish that I had another pair of arms so I could help with the goats."
"Oh, no, I ... I've asked Clearwater to help me with them. But I can help here now." Heartshy smiled with a private blush. Brittlebough knew that Heartshy was still in love with her son Clearwater, so it would be best if they would get together some time. It had been too long since any new births came to the Holt - even her young twins, though slightly older than the youngest members of the Holt, were grown enough to look around for real mates.
Several hours passed in the snowy afternoon while Brittlebough and Heartshy wove the reeds into small, easy to carry baskets.
"I'd like to use one of these for the fur collection," Heartshy said, "I could use it for other things, too."
"Of course you can, sweet. I'm sure that Clearwater will enjoy using the fur for his weaving, as well?"
The blush on Heartshy's round cheeks deepened, and Brittlebough nodded to herself. She knew there would be sparks between her son and this lovely and aptly-named girl...
***
"I think another knife like this one would be perfect," Clearwater said, and Hammersmith examined it. It was one of his early works - but one of the better designs he'd worked on. Though elves often grew forgetful in the many turns of the seasons they lived, just touching this object again made Hammersmith remember every hammer strike he used to shape it.
"I could make one just like it, a nice handle might take a while, though." Hammersmith said. "I've got the metal, but not a good supply of this kind of wood."
Clearwater looked at the knife. It was a rich red wood, wood which was growing far to the north where the devistated ruins of Twin Peaks rested.
"I'll have my mother look for something appropriate," Clearwater said. His memories of the old Holt were dim, now, but he had been able to sew and provide clothing for the elves there even before they left. He wanted another knife sharp enough to slice through leather, but fine enough to do it with detail.
"That works for me. Now, you looked worked up about something." Hammersmith knew that the young elf was strung up about Heartshy - everyone knew it but the two of them, it seemed. "It's the girl, isn't it?"
"I - of course it is." Clearwater said. "I mean, we've known each other for a long time..."
"You're both of a good age to pair off, Clearwater," Hammersmith said. He started sorting out filings for his smelting. "Perhaps this winter will do more for your situation than just make you wish you'd been making heavier bedfurs..."
Clearwater laughed, but he knew that the elder was speaking true. "I only hope that there's more to ... us, than just a roll in the furs, Hammersmith."
As the weaver stood and went back out into the snowy air, returning to his den in the main cavern, the weaponsmith for the Holt started pushing the bellows with one foot, and said, "as do I, young lad, as do I."
***
Farfire sat on the ledge where the old Aerie nest was. Her bond bird, Nightride, was old - very old - and the bird's plumage had not come in as strongly as it ought to after his moult. The redheaded elfess sulked. She was barely able to think about losing the great eagle - and Apogee's Two Claws had died several seasons back, leaving them without any of the beautiful birds to bond. It was a great shame that Talon hadn't come with them to this new Holt - she remembered the tall dark-haired elf, remembered having such a crush on the bird breeder...
"What are you thinking about?" Asked Warmhand, startling the younger elf. "You look glum."
"I am glum," Farfire said, kicking at an old flight feather that had fallen out half a turn before. "How could I not be? I'm waiting for Nightride to come home and I'm worried he won't... I don't want some longtooth cat to come through the Holt and eat him!"
Suddenly filled with emotion, and surprising the older healer, Farfire threw herself at Warmhand and he could only embrace her. He listened to her sobbing for a moment, and then turned her teary-eyed face up to his. "Now, Nightride has a few good years left in him, Farfire. You'll know when he's ready to go."
She snuffled, nodded. "But that doesn't make me worry less. We have nothing else to replace him. I love to fly - and I can't float like Squall or Shatter can."
"Apogee could make you a glider," Warmhand said. "And I'd be on hand waiting for the first crash into the trees..."
Farfire giggled, the thought of anyone other than Apogee using one of those crazy stitched-up leather objects to fly was funny. "No way. I'd rather ... take all these feathers and string them into my arms. I could flap hard."
"That's the spirit," Warmhand said. He didn't follow Farfire to the edge of the aerie. It opened out onto the north face of the low mountain, and the snow fall was brushing past it from the south now. It made everything seem like it was falling away, to his eyes. It made him a bit dizzy. "But we've no flesh shapers here, either, so I'm afraid they would fall out quickly enough."
Farfire gathered up the rest of the down and feathers, and carefully put them into a basket near the inner doorway. "He'll be back. He was just out of my sending range for a moment..." She looked out at the horizon and thought she saw her lovely Nightride. But she also thought she saw something else, flying. Perhaps it was another eagle?
***
"I don't know how it got stuck there, honest," White-Eyes said. "It's the third time in an eight. I think it must be one of the little animals running about."
"I have to agree," Shatter said, with a grunt. His reach was much better than the younger elf's, and the flute was stuck in an ice-filled fissure. Though he didn't have the ability to shape the ice itself, Shatter did have enough levitation magic that he could coax the bone object back out and into his hand.
"Maybe I could cover this opening," White-Eyes suggested. "You'd rather be out hunting with Rasp and Whip, maybe they're going to catch something big."
"I'm having just as much fun in here," Shatter said, grinding his arm into the fissure and grabbing onto the flute as it wobbled in the air below his fingers, "and don't worry about what I'm doing. Haven't you noticed how ... off things are recently?"
"Hunting has gone all right, but..." White-Eyes said, with a pondering look on his young face, "I know what you mean. It's like we're all waiting for something to happen. I hope it's nothing bad."
"It's like a skyfire storm," Shatter said, handing the younger elf his flute, "sometimes it can be beautiful, and sometimes it lights a fire that can't be stopped." He licked his lips, wondering what Rasp was really up to out there with Whip. Not that he was the jealous type - Whip had lost his recognized mate and young son to the ground quake at the Peaks, so he knew that Rasp's attentions would be wasted on him.
"Something is happening," White-Eyes said. "I can feel it. Something - some one is coming."
With a scowl, Shatter leaned into the main hallway and heard voices from the others. Indeed, something was going on. "Who is it, then? Someone from the old Holt?"
"No..." White-Eyes said. "But it is an elf. She says..."