GREENEYES SPINRIDER

by Teresa Arellanes

(DF 4 Spring)

All was quiet in the steamy depths of the jungle. No bird sang, and the drone of insects had ceased. Even the smoking fire-mountain was silent. A young, red-haired elf named Stonefire stopped searching for rocks to shape and looked skyward. The clouds had thickened and darkened during the day, and as the wind picked up speed, an all-too-familiar funnel shape formed. Stonefire sent a mental warning to his tribe as he ran towards his holt.

**Skyspinner!**

**Promise to leave the cook-fires alone, Pebble. You shall get your fair share, you greedy thing.**  Greeneyes, a tiny elven healer with enormous green eyes, applied a healing salve to a blister on a small, winged creature’s hand. The preserver, Pebble, sighed, its brown body slumping on the healer’s hand even as its glassy eyes looked at her imploringly.

“Green-soft no be mad. Pebble so hungry!  Hot stuff bite. Get wrapstuffed. No hurt. Is good!” the gossamer-winged thing said. It fluttered happily above the healer’s head as she looked towards the ruined cook-fire. Sweetberry, the tribe’s primary cook, gave the gooey mess a disgusted kick.

It was then that Stonefire’s warning reached the holt. Greeneyes was shocked. She had been through these storms before, but only in the season of the blazing sun. It was the greening time now, and all the young of the jungle would be in great danger. Greeneyes stayed calm as she quickly buried her belongings below her hometree, and then quietly looked around for her mount.

**Molg, come to me.**  A giant eight-legged arachnid moved toward the elf. The spider-like creature that her tribe had long used as mounts enveloped the small elf in a caress, and then gently lifted her up on its back before leaving the hometree. Silvery threads shot from the creature as it secured them both to the tree.

The Black Rock tribe was prepared as the skyspinner drew nearer. Elves, spinners, and preservers alike were secure in the trees of the holt. Stonefire arrived and joined Greeneyes beneath Molg’s webs.

**It’s a big one!** he sent as he nestled down beside his childhood friend.

**May the High Ones protect us!** Greeneyes sent. The skyspinner touched down just outside the holt, and dirt and trees flew everywhere. In the turmoil, Greeneyes spotted her preserver friend being ripped away from Molg’s protection.  **Pebble!**  The elven girl scrambled out of the webbing and raced to the rescue of the tiny creature.

“No, no!  Green-soft no save!  Go back!  Go back!”  Pebble cried as it saw the green-eyed elf struggle against the raging wind to grasp it. Before she could, however, Pebble smacked into a tree and clung there desperately. Greeneyes realized then that her own life was in danger, but it was too late. The storm dragged her closer, sending her through the brambles, scratching her and bombarding her with all manner of debris. The funnel drew her up within itself and she felt an enormous pressure in her ears.  The last thing she felt before she was spun unconscious was Stonefire’s sending.

**Greeneyes!**

Greeneyes opened her eyes, but closed them again quickly. She was surrounded by air and clouds. Once more, she thought. She opened them and saw that the funnel’s fury had kept her aloft, but she was rapidly descending as the storm lost its strength. She was bruised, battered, and her clothes were in tatters. The ground was fast approaching, and she started her legs running in the air. When she touched ground, she ran a few paces, and then tumbled end over end before she collapsed near several trees on a bed of rain-drenched grass. She lay there a moment before she tried to get up, but then grabbed her ankle with a hiss of pain. She had twisted it hard upon landing.

She rolled over onto her back, panting lightly from the pain and the experience, and listened to gentle splashing of water. She relaxed as the cool protectiveness of night enveloped her, and she went quietly into the land of dreams once more.

Two pair of elven eyes, one set brown and the other jet-black, peered out from the thick underbrush. Longknife’s black eyes twinkled below his silvery hair and green headband as he nudged his red-haired companion, Redlace.

**He’s “sneaking” again.**

Redlace grinned, and then both elves hid themselves in wait for their victim.

A young troll named Dripstone snuck through the forest, his large feet slapping loudly against the cool forest floor. The nickname that Redlace had given him, however was more appropriate. Thunderfoot.  He smiled. He knew his elven friends were waiting for him somewhere ahead.

“Boo!” yelled Longknife as he and Redlace jumped from the bushes. Thunderfoot guffawed, and the elves joined in with their own laughter. Redlace challenged them to a race, and then the chase was on.  When they could run no more, they collapsed on the shore of the lake, not far from the Two Falls.

“My friends,” Longknife said, “it is truly good to see the moons once again. That grandsire of a storm we had dampened my spirits as it did the ground.

“I know how you feel. Let’s walk down toward the river to see what the storm has brought to the valley,” suggested Redlace. They all agreed and ambled off together.

The trio had not gone very far when a movement near the water caught Longknife’s attention. He moved closer to investigate, followed by curious companions.  A small being laid huddled and still, half in and half out of a pool of lake water runoff.  “Beware, it might be a human’s cub,” cautioned Redlace. Longknife grimaced; he had nothing to fear from a human’s cub, if that was what it was. As he drew closer to the form, he saw something that made him stop short. An ear – a small, pointed ear.

Could it be an elf?  Longknife, the only outsider elf the Timber Folk had ever known, was filled with excitement at the thought of another such as himself. He gently propped up the form in his arms, and brushed the long strands of light brown hair away from the face as his friends joined him.  They were startled to find that he held a young female.

**Wake up, cub,** he sent as he shook her gently. Large green eyes fluttered open and then widened in fear. She took in her surroundings with an involuntary swallow.

**Who are you?  Where am I?  Where is the holt?** sent the girl. Her eyes locked with Longknife’s for a moment, then tears formed and eye contact was broken.

“Calmly, young one. You are among friends. My name is Longknife, and these are my friends, Redlace and Thunderfoot.”  The silver-haired elf helped the tiny female to her feet, and then noticed her wince and lift her foot from the ground. He let her lean on him and she smiled a timid smile. Then she spotted the troll, and watched him nervously with wide eyes.

“What’s your name?” Thunderfoot asked, hunkering down to study her. She was wearing the remains of a rainbow-colored dress of a material he had never seen before. Her feet were bare, except for a light blue ribbon hanging loosely about one ankle.

**He… you… communicate with your mouths!** she sent, a hand going to her own.

“Yes, doesn’t everyone?” Redlace smiled.

**No.  The elves of my tribe do not know how, but I know of other creatures who do, so I can at least understand you,** was the reply. She looked at the troll and sent, **My name is Greeneyes.**  Seeing no response, she looked towards Longknife with a questioning look.

**Trolls cannot send,** he sent gently. Then to the young troll he said, “Her name is Greeneyes, for her eyes are as green as my headband. She cannot speak, but elves can understand the needs of others of their kind.”  The troll would be confused, but at least he would not think the girl was ignoring him, thought Longknife.  **Redlace?**

**Yes?**

**Maybe you should run to the holt and tell the chief we have a visitor. Goldenbraid the healer will also be needed. Greeneyes is hurt.**

**On my way.**  He nodded with another smile at Greeneyes. “Come on, Thunderfoot. Greeneyes is hurt, and she is going to need Goldenbraid.  Let’s go.”

“Sure.  See ya later, Greeneyes,” was the quick reply. The elf and troll ran in the direction of the holt, and soon were lost from view. Longknife smiled to himself, for though he could no longer see his friends, he could hear Thunderfoot yet, crashing through the forest to the holt. He then turned and helped Greeneyes walk along at a slower pace through the woods.

**Longknife, will you be my friend?** Greeneyes sent timidly as she hobbled along the forest path, leaning on the tall frame of her companion. **I am not sure where I am, and I am without my friends now.**

“Of course I will.  You see, I too am an outsider to this place. I am sure you will be accepted by the elves here, as I was. Where is it that you come from?  Do you remember?”

**I think so. I live in the Black Rock holt, in the jungle below the fire mountain. A skyspinner came down, and my preserver was…** she started.

“Preserver?” questioned Longknife, eyebrows raised.

**A tiny winged creature with a big mouth. They sing bad and spit wrapstuff all over. Do you have them here?** Greeneyes asked as she sat down on a log, weary and tired.  Longknife sat on the ground beside her and began drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick.

“I have seen them in my travels, but they are unknown here in the valley. I did not know that was what the little bugs were called.”  He grinned at her and they struck an unspoken bond.  “Go on, please.”

**Well, Pebble – my preserver – was being whisked away, so I went to rescue it, but then I was in trouble. My she-spinner, Molg, could not help, and… Now what have I said, Longknife?**

“She-spinner?  What in the name of the High Ones is that?” The elven hunter was curious, and the differences between the two of them intrigued him. Greeneyes was amused that her new friend did not know what a spinner was. A twinkle crept into her leaf-green eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned up.

**A spinner is an eight-legged creature, like this little fellow,** she sent as she picked up a small spider crawling on her tattered dress, **only much, much larger. We use them as mounts. What do your people ride, if not spinners?**

Longknife felt revolted at the thought of riding on top of a giant spider, but he did his best to keep his facial expression neutral. “The Timber Folk ride wolves,” he said proudly. Then he tilted his chin up and called out a long and lonely-sounding howl. It was answered in the distance, then once again closer. A large black wolf emerged from the night shadows and stared at the small female elf sitting beside his friend for a moment before he padded closer.

Longknife watched Greeneyes carefully as Manslayer went to inspect her. The diminutive elf showed no fear as she offered the beast her hand and scratched behind his ear.

**Bark-bark soft,** she sent with a giggle. Longknife smiled at her feather-like way of sending. **He is yours?**

“Or I am his. We have not yet come to an agreement on that,” he chuckled. “He and I are traveling companions. What happened next?” he prompted, trying to ignore Manslayer’s nips telling him he wanted to play.

**It was then that the skyspinner took me up into the air. When the winds finally set me down, it was here in this strange place. It was when I landed that I hurt my ankle. You know the rest.**

“That is certainly interesting,” Longknife mused. “Tell me about yourself, Greeneyes. What are your skills? Do you have a talent?  Weaving, perhaps, or maybe treeshaping?” he suggested. “Hunting?” he asked doubtfully. She did not have the build or the muscles of a hunter. She was the smallest adult elf he had ever seen – not much bigger than some of the cubs in the holt.

**I am a healer. Does that count?** she asked as she picked up a stick and added a few details to the drawing in the dirt. Manslayer added a paw print to the drawing playfully.

“Yes, that counts, Greeneyes,” Longknife laughed. “You should have mentioned it earlier. I sent Redlace to get the healer of the Timber Folk.”

**I did not really realize that was where he went,** Greeneyes said with a frown. **I have been healing my ankle while we’ve rested, and I think I can now stand.**

Longknife stood up and held out a hand to help her up. “In that case, Greeneyes, come and meet your new people in your new holt with me.”

She took his hand, and he felt it tremble slightly. He gave it a reassuring squeeze as she nodded, and they walked toward the holt of the Timber Folk, together.