CHANGES

by Ted R. Blasingame

(DF 30 Spring) 

Mooncrest yawned lazily and stretched his arms. He clasped his hands behind is head, feeling content to lie in the warm sunlight that had made its way to the center of the Council Clearing. It used to be rare for him to be up and about during the daylight hours, but in the years since the War, the Timber Folk had developed a growing friendship with their past enemies, the Ke L’Rhatan. Mooncrest had just returned from their village, where he had traded with them and played with their children as one of their favorite playmates.

His new wolf-friend, a white bitch with black-tipped ears and tail, lay on her back in the warm sun. They had bonded during the last winter after he had saved her from a fall through the thin ice on the lake.  He called her Snowdrift, for the way she enjoyed jumping into soft drifts of snow to make the fine powder fly. She was young, full of energy, and was affectionate.

At the moment, Nightway was asleep in their tree, a totally nocturnal elf. His other mate was in the Minnowbrook giving their twins a bath. The cubs of six years loved the water, so Wildwood had little difficulty with them. Mooncrest could hear them squeal as they splashed one another.

Mooncrest stretched again, feeling very good to be alive. The past six years had been a time of rebuilding after the War, which had not been easy. Only now was life seeming normal as it had before the conflict. He had lost friends in the fighting, some he’d known a long time, others only a short while. The pain of loss had been great and it had taken everyone banding together to go on. It reminded him all too well of the years following the great Death Flood.

Many changes had taken place in their lives, some subtle and some outstanding. Take Greeneyes, for instance. The tiny healer had been lost without her lifemate, Longknife, who had died while sending to her during a fierce battle. After that, she had drawn up a mental barrier against all sending, and it took a long while before she would communicate with anyone. Greeneyes’ healing had finally come when more new children were born into the tribe. Her love for little ones was strong enough to push through her soul-deep pain. It had been good to see her smile again.

The War had a different effect on Mooncrest’s father. During the fighting, Silverhair remembered the human who had killed his mate years earlier. Although the humans had been newly allied with them, Silverhair had his revenge on the man during the confusion of the fighting. Only Nightstep had seen the act, and although the chief had scolded him later for killing an ally, Silverhair had simply replied that his vengeance was satisfied and that his voice, which had been silent since Dewdrop’s death, would be heard again. Now, six years later, Silverhair’s fine singing could be heard over the treetops.

Most of the changes that had occurred in Mooncrest’s life had not resulted from the War, but from the birth of Whisperswift and Random, the Holt’s first set of twins in remembered history – the cubs that resulted from his Recognition with Wildwood. Being a father taught him more about responsibility than natural aging ever had. To the relief of the tribe, he had matured and was no longer the annoying prankster he used to be. He had realized a whole new world in the rearing of his cubs and making sure they had the best teachers of skill, but most important, to be a father who looks after them and loves them greatly.

Another change came when he took Wildwood as his second mate. At the time of their Recognition, Wildwood had declined becoming his mate, since she knew he still loved Nightway. She did not want to interfere with that relationship. However, it was inevitable that love would develop between them during their constant contact while taking care of the cubs. Nightway and Wildwood were the best of friends, so it only seemed natural that they would form a tri-bonding. Mooncrest’s love for Nightway never faded, but grew ever stronger, even while Wildwood became as precious to him. Together, the five were a family.

Mooncrest broke from his reverie when Whisperswift suddenly pounced on him, still wet from her bath. He grabbed her with a grin and began to tickle her bare ribs. She squealed and tried to squirm out of his grasp. He laughed and hugged her closer.

“Where are your clothes?” he asked, kissing her on the nose.

“Over there,” she replied, pointing to the Minnowbrook where Wildwood was dressing Random.

“Well,” Mooncrest said, “you had better go get them before someone pinches your bottom!” He reached for her exposed behind in a mock attempt to grab her, but she shrieked and bounded out across the grass toward her mother. Mooncrest laughed and settled back down to let the sun dry his now-wet tunic.

As he closed his eyes again, his thoughts went to the children of the Holt, eight in number. They had all been born in the years following the War, except for Teal, his brother’s daughter who had arrived just before the conflict, and then Teal's brother Squirrel arrived two years later. Rogue became a surprised father when he sired two children. His son, Wildmane was conceived when Rogue had Recognized with Bolt; his daughter, Russet was born outside of Recognition through Starlight, one of his numerous lovemates. Both were born close together, right at two years after the War.

A big surprise was the arrival of Duskdew’s child, Nightsoul. The Holt flirt did not know who had fathered her male cub, since she had often joined with any willing male. Some suspected Windrace, who was also known to hop beds, but none knew for sure.

The last of the New Blood, as Two Star had called them, was Littlestorm, a small and wiry girl born to chief Nightstep and Freshwind. Skyflame and Littlestorm had become quite close to one another in the four short years since her birth, with the child adoring her big brother. Nightstep was a very proud father.

Mooncrest reflected on how the High Ones had sent a few cubs to replace some of those lost in the War, knowing that the ones who died would have been pleased.

The long feud with the humans had dissolved, and the trolls had finally settled in under King Rockhammer’s rule. Timber Valley was now a rather peaceful place, the first time in many lifetimes.

There had been talk for the past couple of years by some of the wanderers who had come in to the valley before the War, of leaving the Holt to see other lands. The fighting and rebuilding had taken a lot out of them, and despite the current peace in the valley, some were no longer content to live where another conflict had the potential to begin again. However, even with the occasional talk, no one had yet to actually leave.

Mooncrest sighed quietly to himself. He would have never thought that he would live to see all this.

A shadow over his face suddenly blocked out the sunlight above. He opened one eye and looked up at his son’s grinning face. He smiled back and then closed his eye.

Random’s tiny fingers grasped his eyelid and physically opened it with a giggle at his father’s expression of surprise. “Mother wants to know if she can bathe you too,” he said.

Mooncrest peered over to the Minnowbrook and saw Wildwood give him a “come here” expression with a smiling face and a crooked finger. “Sounds like a good idea to me, cub,” he said as he got to his feet. Random grabbed Mooncrest’s hand and began pulling him toward the water.

“May we go play at the rock pits when you are done?” Random asked in a sing-song voice. “All the other kids are going there with Hushleaf.”

“I suppose so, but try not to get dirty. You just had your bath,” Mooncrest answered as he picked up the child in his arms.

“Oh, father!” Random huffed. “You know me better than that!”

Mooncrest turned the boy upside down and then draped him over his shoulder. “You are right, I do,” he laughed. “So… don’t get dirty!”

He set Random down next to Wildwood’s clothes and gave his mate a wink. “Now, go along and find out where your sister ran off to.”

“Okie.”  Random was gone in the blink of an eye.

Mooncrest slipped out of his clothing and then stepped into the water next to Wildwood. He slowly sat down in the cold stream beside her. He threaded his arm around her waist and nuzzled her playfully before settling back to relax.

Yes, changes had come to the Holt. Some good and some not-so-good, but life went on in the valley of timbers.