“Keep your elbows bent when you’re holding the sword. Otherwise you’ll break your arms the minute your attacker strikes.”

Duo’s face wore a look of strained concentration as he held the weapon in his left hand. Behind him, Talon frowned as she critiqued her young charge’s lesson.

“Wait, you’re holding it wrong. Stop holding it like a hammer. Keep gripping as tight as that, and you’re going to be sore after your fight.”

Talon watched Duo’s fingers noticeably ease off the hilt, but he was still holding the sword too tight. Despite the setback, the young elf was improving. Over the course of several moons since Talon had taken Duo under her wing, she was impressed how far he had come. But there was room still left for improvement, despite Duo’s objections.

“Good. It’s much better to grip your sword loosely and allow it to move a bit in your hand. Your wrist must also be flexible,” Talon reached for her own sword. “Here, let me show you.”

Duo stepped back to allow the older elf ample room. Gripping her sword’s hilt as she instructed, Talon dropped into a defense position, hoping Duo was paying attention to how much bend she put into her knees and elbows. Talon carried out a few quick warming routines, relishing the feel of stretching muscles and tendons, until the simple accord built and gathered momentum. Advance, block and parry recalling patterns of combat, of blades grating together in the jarring song against an imagined adversary.

When Talon stopped to catch her breath, she noticed Duo’s face had taken on a look of awe. Once again, she proved herself the fabled hero of the young elf’s dreams. The look always made her feel uncomfortable, but she could do little to stop it.

Talon continued. “See? The power of a blow comes from uncoiling your body and whipping your sword around to crack your opponent’s skull, not from a strong grip and solid arm. Try it and see what happens.”

Duo fell into stance, held up his sword, then proceeded a series of maneuvers not unlike Talon had done before, only his lacked the grace and fluidity Talon had so expertly displayed. The setback didn’t affect Duo’s optimism, and he completed the obscure routine of thrusts and swings with an enthusiasm that bordered on maniac. Finally the young elf dropped his sword to the ground, body doubled over in an effort to breathe.

“Was … that … better?” Duo huffed between strained breaths; beads of sweat trickling down his face and arms.

Talon sighed and gave up. “Yes, much better. Go plant yourself under some water for a while and cool off. We’ll work more on your sparring later.” Watching as the young elf staggered away, she couldn’t stop a grin from escaping. Teaching Duo the ways of the sword wasn’t nearly as bad as she initially thought it would be. In hindsight, things were working out much better than expected.

“Okay, I give. Why are you smiling,” a light voice asked from behind Talon. She didn’t have to bother turning around to know whom it was.

“One benefit from sparring with Duo. He’s always too winded afterward to talk.”

“Ugh, just to get all hot and sweaty,” said Moss, moving to stand beside Talon. “If it’s hot and sweaty you want to get, I can think of much more,” she grinned, “… constructive ways.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think I’m the master you are in that skill,” Talon said dryly, tossing Moss an amused glance. “And I like to keep private affairs just that. Private.”

“Aw, not in the mood for a public display of affection? Edgewater’s right over there, in case you’re interested,” teased Moss, waving a hand toward a pile of leathers where Edgewater and Windflower sat talking.

“Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, Edgewater can’t even get fitted for new leathers without getting embarrassed, and I don’t even want to talk about Swordeye.”

“Why? Are you mad at him?”

Talon grinned. “No. But for his sake, it’s better to avoid the topic altogether. He actually fainted once when Edgewater and I were trying to coax him to bed,” she shook her head. “I think he never made it out of adolescence.”

Moss looked at Talon in disbelief. “But, they’re so much more fun!”

Talon turned to clap a friendly hand on Moss’s shoulder. “Only you would have a taste for that.”

Moss gave her a little wink. “Well, they have to learn it sometime.”

“Okay, first, you must decide what style it’s going to be.”

Edgewater fiddled with a corner of fabric. “All I want is a tunic for when the snows come.”

Windflower nodded. “Well, of course you could want something useful when it’s cold. But a little flash wouldn’t hurt either!”

“But,” Edgewater started, “I’m not supposed to be wearing anything flashy! Talon said we have to blend in!”

“Fine,” Windflower sighed with exasperation. “Don’t think of it as flashy. Think of it as … fun! Flirty! With a hint of mystery!”

Edgewater held up the fabric. “I don’t know. Somehow I don’t think that’s what Talon had in mind …”

“Oh, pish-tosh!” Windflower admonished. “Don’t be silly! It’s not as if you plan on parading yourself in front of a band of humans!”

Edgewater stared at him. “Did you just say pish-tosh?”

“Besides, you know these Wolfriders,” continued Windflower, ignoring the question. “They’re always worried about food and shelter and humans, when what they should really do is get a good look at themselves! Those clothes! Have you seen those boots Kura wears? That is so, like, last season!”

He took the fabric from Edgewater. “Alright, now, I’ve decided we’re going for something with a little decoration. With cute little slits in the side and front. Won’t that look lovely?”

“I guess,” Edgewater murmured.

“Do you want short or long sleeves? Short has a more kiss ‘n tell look about it.”

“Won't I get cold?"

"Darling, that's the sacrifices you make for fashion. Do you know how to sew?”

Edgewater hesitated. “Not … really. Does mending count?”

“First, you must fold your material in half to the desired length, then fold it in half selvage to selvage,” Windflower began laying out the fabric as an example. “A selvage is the finished edge of the fabric, by the way.”

“Selvage fabric, okay,” Edgewater repeated absently.

“Great! Now, measure your torso and find the largest measurement, either your hips or your chest, and assess by four stones. As your material is already divided into pieces, you only need one piece of the total measurement. This is the minimum width your tunic must be from the center fold if you want it to fit.”

“Divide pieces to fit my torso …”

“Wonderful! Just draw your pattern onto the material. Cut out the pattern and cut a small hole for your neck.”

“Cut my … neck?”

“Yes, yes! Decide on the shape of your neckline and cut this out. And make sure the opening is big enough to fit over your head! Measure around your head remembering that your ears stick out more than your forehead! Always cut out less rather than more!”

“Windflower,” Edgewater started, sounding confused. “I don’t think I’m getting this,” but the elf continued on without notice.

“Once the neck hole is cut, open up the tunic and lay it out flat, then take a piece of scrap material, which can be of a different color, that is slightly larger than the neck shape. This will become your neck facing. Lay the facing fabric over the neck hole with right sides together and pin it down. See how easy it is?”

“No,” said Edgewater flatly.

“At this point I find it helps to draw the neck line shape on the facing so it will be neater when you sew!”

“What are you two up to?” Darksky asked as she strolled over to stand behind Windflower.

“Just showing young Edgy here how to sew,” explained Windflower. “A life-saving skill, if I do say so myself.”

Darksky looked at him. “How is sewing considered a life-saving skill?”

Windflower mouth dropped in disbelief. “Well, for one thing, not only would be running around naked like a bunch of … I don’t know … some naked forest rodents, but we would also be denying ourselves the latest styles for the season!”

Edgewater held up the fabric. “I’m gonna be fun an’ flirty an’ mysterious.”

“Yes!” Agreed Windflower with enthusiasm. “Darksky, I see you as motherly and poetic and wild, with a deep-seeded passion for the unknown!”

“Really?” Darksky looked pleased with herself. “I didn’t know a new pair of pants could do that for me.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Swordeye asked as he came over, blushing a little at the sight of Edgewater.

“Swordeye!” exclaimed Windflower. “You’re the strong, silent type, untamed and crazy, and just bursting to set forth the fire leashed within you!” Swordeye cocked his head. “You mean it wasn’t the bad dreamberries I ate yesterday?”

A frown was starting on Edgewater’s lips. “Can we back get to this?” she tried to get Windflower’s attention by shaking the fabric in his face. Like before, the elf ignored her.

In fact, Windflower was almost drooling now. “And Talon! Do you know what I see for Talon?” He spread his arms out dramatically. “Layers and layers of sheer fabric, flowing and swirling, releasing the hidden maiden within her.” He slapped his hands together as if punctuating the vision. “That’s what I see for Talon! No armor and swords and shields, just layers of pure, sheer fabric!”

“Somehow,” Swordeye ventured thoughtfully. “I don’t see Talon as layers of pure, sheer fabric,” suddenly he flushed red. “She would look pretty nice though.”

Edgewater cocked her head in consideration. “But do you think she’d actually go along with that?”

Everyone, including Windflower, stopped and looked at her.

“What, are you saying this seriously?” asked Darksky.

Edgewater fidgeted, looking away nervously. “Well, I would like to see her dressed up sometime. I think she would look pretty,” a blush started on her cheeks. “Not that she doesn’t look nice now. If I didn’t did think she did, we wouldn’t be … you know …” her blush deepened.

Darksky grinned. “This is almost sounding fun. Windflower can make Talon the outfit of the season, and we somehow get it on her.”

“How?” Everyone said in unison.

A hand rose to rest under Darksky’s chin in contemplation. “Well, too many dreamberries?”

“C’mon Talon, I want to show you something!”

Talon looked skeptical as Moss pulled her toward a nearby bush. “Why can’t you just tell me what it is first?”

“Because that would ruin the surprise!” Moss huffed, tugging at her hand impatiently. “Please Talon? When I found it, you were the first person I thought of.”

The comment forced Talon to raise a dubious brow, but the young Chief refrained from answering. Moss halted in front of the bush, while Talon stared as she stole a quick glance around the area before diving into the thick foliage. Shrugging, Talon followed suit.

“Okay Moss, what’s the big secret you wanted to show me.”

“Here,” the younger elf smiled as she rummaged through the bush, pulling out a leather decanter.

“Dreamberry wine!” Talon exclaimed, hardly believing her eyes. “Where did you get it? I thought only Tymber knew how to brew it!”

“I told you, I found it,” Moss explained, pulling out a smaller pair of flasks. “When we left Ivy, I grabbed whatever was in sight. I guess I picked up some of his stuff by mistake.”

“By mistake, huh,” Talon said suspiciously, eyeing the younger elf, who squirmed under the gaze.

“Well, maybe only little by mistake,” Moss said quickly, handing Talon one of the flasks. “Besides, being extra prepared never hurts anyone.” Talon’s face fell into a look of amusement. “Okay, I give. But why was I the first person you thought of?”

“Well, you’re my soul-sister, and I love you,” said Moss thoughtfully. “There isn’t enough here to share with everyone, and Kura and Pika wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Oh, I see. You’re lovemates would be drunk and asleep before you could get anywhere with them, so you were stuck with instead,” Talon teased.

Moss rolled her eyes. “There you go again, being the bright ray of sunshine you always are,” she poured a large portion into Talon’s flask, and then into her own. She raised the cup and grinned. “Drink up! Might be awhile till we taste it again.”

Talon raised her cup and drank deeply the red liquid. Almost immediately, the wine’s narcotic effects began to sink in. She sighed. “Tymber always knew how to brew a good Dreamberry.”

“Here, have some more,” Moss said, leaning over to pour more wine for Talon. She finished the second drink quickly.

Moss grinned. “Remember the first time we met Sunbeam?”

Talon scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Sunbeam? Yes, I remember. We charged into a human camp like a crazed pack of wolves. Sort of ruined their ceremony for them. I haven’t thought of her in years.”

“Wonder what she’s doing now.”

“Who knows,” Talon shrugged. “Has her own litter of pups, most likely. I wish you could’ve brought up a happier memory though.” Phantom pain tingled where a stone weapon had bit into her shoulder years ago. She rubbed the feeling away.

“Sorry, let me try something else,” Moss cocked her head in thought. Then she grinned. “Ah, I know! Remember when Duo borrowed my knife?”

Talon grimaced. “Oh yes. We never did find it again.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Swordeye was able to make a better one, and besides,” Moss’s eyes glinted, “Edgewater ended up in your little group as a result.”

Talon blushed. “Well, she looked so lonely.”

Moss laughed and shook her head. “My chief, always concerned about the welfare of her tribe.” She chuckled as Talon’s face pinked more, then slowly sobered, as she looked her closely. “Do you … remember Brook?”

Talon was quiet for a moment, blue eyes deepening as the thought overtook her. “Yes,” she said finally. “I remember Brook. And I still don’t know if it was love or not, but … now that I’m older, I think it was … or not. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever know.” Suddenly she reached for the decanter, pouring more juice into her flask.

Moss sighed and mumbled under her breath. “Bad thing to ask.” She sighed and helped herself as well. There was a moment of strained tension before Talon sighed and leaned back against a rock.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sad … well, not very at least,” she said thoughtfully. “I just don’t want to talk about the past very much. It’s gone and done and there’s nothing to be done about it.”

Moss nodded. “Uh-huh, better to move on. Otherwise, you’ll wake up one night stuck in the den, with five or six pups tugging at your pants legs,” she sniffed.

Talon grinned, raising a discerning brow. “And that’s why you high tailed it from Shortbow?”

Moss huffed, shaking her curls and fluffing her hair. “Well, you didn’t actually expect me to stay with him, did you?”

Talon laughed, and after a moment of forged indignation, Moss began to laugh as well. The two was a scene, sitting there behind a bush and cackling like mad trolls. The moons had long since set before Talon finally laid her head down, slowly nodding off. Moss had to fight to keep from following suit, calling out softly to those she knew were hiding in the bushes around them.

As she stumbled back to her den, two thoughts crossed Moss’s hazed mind. One, either the coming night will bring quite a bit of amusement, or two … well, the second option was almost too scary to consider. But before she fell asleep, Moss wondered briefly just how mad Talon could get, or worse …

How good she was with a sword.

The beams of the two moons showed clear and crisp through the forest canopy, the light casting a cool white along the darkened tangled floor. Stray light pricked at the lids of Talon’s eyes. She grumbled, turning her face away from the disturbance, and borrowed deeper into the soft fabric against her cheek. The same softness brushed cool air over her body. It took several moments before her sleep-hazed mind registered it was indeed fabric she was laying on, and not the forest floor.

Talon’s eyes snapped open.

Where she had fallen asleep in her regular forest tunic and pants, had now been replaced with a long green robe. Talon scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over the robe’s hem. If the garment was intended to cover her feet, then it far surpassed its expectations. She held out her arms and noticed the sleeves nearly reached the ground as well. White birds with long necks covered the front and back of the robe, designed to look as though caught in flight, while what looked to be a huge russet mountain stood in the background. Only one elf was capable of creating such a garish and subsequently useless outfit.

“Oh, you look positively lovely!”

Talon looked up to see Windflower running toward her. “I imagine everyone was in on this,” she said, already certain the statement as a fact.

“Do you even realize what a great bustline you have?” gushed Windflower, oblivious to anything except his latest creation and the unfortunate wearing it. “When Edgewater slipped your top off, they just cried out ‘Dress me in green!’”

Talon felt stung, or rather, she felt like she just stepped into a weird alternate universe. And having any part of her body displaced for public viewing, even if it was just the holt, did nothing to quell her nerves. “I really wish you would have consulted with me on this first. This is my own body we’re talking about.”

“We knew you’d say no,” said Windflower simply. “So we didn’t ask.”

Talon turned to the taller elf, ready to lay the wraith of a chief into him, but stopped she saw Darksky, Swordeye, Edgewater and Moss heading toward her. She sighed. There was no point reprimanding the entire tribe.

“Stars and moons, you look great Talon,” gasped Darksky.

Moss giggled, fussing with the robe’s shoulders in mock tweaking. “You look just like a little green bug, with very long legs, and with funny white shapes all over its back.”

“It’s all that I ever wanted,” replied Talon, shaking herself out of her stupor. “To look like a long-legged bug.”

“With funny white shapes on its back,” reminded Darksky, quickly covering a grin with her hand when Talon sent a glare toward her. The sounds of Windflower’s boasts caught both of their attention, and Talon turned to see the tall elf leading a conversation with Edgewater.

“Well, of course I knew she would look great. It’s my talent. Trained my whole life for moments like this,” Windflower was musing, while Edgewater nodded in blank agreement.

Talon turned back to Darksky and Moss, who were both giggling and fussing around the robe, and crossed her arms. “I take it everyone was involved in this?”

Darksky smiled and Moss nodded. “Well, we figured it would be harder to punish the entire tribe than one person, and we’ve all been a little bored lately,” said Darksky.

Meanwhile, Swordeye was sneaking toward them, trying to get a closer look at Talon without getting within an easy striking distance.

Talon shook her head. “You guys went through a lot of trouble for all of this, when all you had to do was ask. Still,” she added after a moment, “Windflower did a great job, even if I’ll never get to wear it again.”

Moss shook her curly head, sighed dramatically, and patted Talon’s shoulder. “But isn’t that the way life is? Better to have lost in love than never have loved … or love the love you lost … well, something to that effect.”

“Only in your case, it has to do with clothes,” piped Darksky.

Talon laughed. “It maybe useless, but I guess it can come in handy once in awhile.”

Swordeye smiled bashfully. “You look cute, that’s all I know.”

“Well I guess that’s good enough a reason as I heard,” said Moss teasingly. “Now you two run off and have a good time. And don’t forget the other half to your trio.”


The End.