SeaCrest-Star

The early autumn sun was bright and golden, making the afternoon almost as warm as a summer's day. A flock of clouds floated in the sky, puffy and white, and if Heidi had been an artist, she would have loved to paint them hanging over the still-mostly-green trees of the forest, the verdant canopy interrupted occasionally by a tree that had begun to exchange its green leaves for orange autumn finery. Alas, Heidi's skill with a paintbrush was sorely lacking, and she tended to stick with artistic pursuits that had a little more structure; belt loom weaving, for the most part, as well as knotwork and embroidery. She'd made the trim for her tunic and pants, as well as embroidered the ribbon she'd used to tie her hair back from her face. "I can't wait for October to come," Meg sighed, moving deeper into the shade for some relief from the afternoon sun. With her thick mane, even this warmth could be a little too much. Summer was a time when she sometimes capitulated and begged Heidi to help

Guinefyr has always loved stories. Even when her relationship with her mother was at its most contentious, her mother's stories were something she had treasured. Stories of Aiti, of dragons, of the Lightning Master—the world was a vast network of stories, and Guinefyr was happy to be a part of it. This, though. This story was unfamiliar and strange, and she didn't know how it ended. Surely someone knew this spirit, knew why they still lingered on the mortal plane, why they were so desperately trying to dig up the flowers that bloomed even in winter. Bria and her charges dug with a will, shoving snow into piles until the frozen ground was exposed. When their claws could not dig any deeper, Guinefyr huffed. "We may have to wait until spring," she grumbled. "The ground's too hard, and I don't want to risk burning the flowers if I try to melt the ground enough for you all to dig." "Well, at least we can make it a little nicer," Bria decided. Clapping her paws together, she

Guinefyr stood alone on the cliffs overlooking the wild ocean, filling her lungs with salt spray and cold air as she tried to draw the serenity of the wide sea into herself. For all its rage, for all its power, there was something so soothing about the ocean, about its capacity to carry change and destruction and everything in between. No matter what hardships she saw, what creatures she had failed to save, the ocean was untouchable. Forests could burn and rivers could dry up, glaciers could melt and the ground could rip itself apart, but the ocean never seemed to care. She knew better than that, of course, but it was a veneer, a façade, and she rather thought that she was like that, for all her temper. At least, she tried to pretend she was able to hide her true feelings, her true temper, beneath a cool, collected, composed veneer. Sometimes that veneer cracked… There were decisions to be made, hard decisions that would change the course of…not nature. She refused to believe that

Sometimes, Meeri thought that time played tricks on her. Sometimes, a single day dragged on for what seemed like weeks, exhausting and long without the respite of sleep or nightfall. Sometimes, days and weeks and months blended together, until it seemed only a month ago, she had left Tuil with the Matka Ihme. In reality, she had been gone for an entire year, and then some, waiting until the troupe reached Tuil once more on their never-ending tour of Silkkassa. As they had traveled, Meeri had seen much, had experienced many things. Lessons had been learned, among them how to tell friend from foe, how to find a Shrine without help, how to read trail markers and identify safe water from bad. She'd learned that humans were, on the whole, smart and capable without being threatening; she'd also learned that she could defend herself if it came down to it, and that she did not need to fear single humans. In Kutoa she had watched humans weaving baskets with their clever, nimble fingers

It was an unusually cold night, and Meeri shivered as she settled herself more snugly in her little bracken bed, sheltered on three sides by thick bushes and a massive cedar tree, its bark sweet-smelling. Between the cedar and the bracken, also fragrant, she would have been extremely comfortable if it weren't for the chill and the unshakeable sense that something was not right in the world. Something was wrong...something strange was afoot, and she didn't like not knowing what it was. Twilight had come and gone, and the crescent moon shed little light; deep beneath the canopy, there was hardly any light at all. Meeri slept fitfully, unable to stay asleep for more than half an hour at a time, and sometime around midnight, she startled awake to see a green-white shape disappear into the trees. It glowed, like the strange mushrooms that grew in the deep forest, and Meeri found herself lurching to her feet to follow it. Whatever it was, it left no scent, no footprints, no sign at all

"Please, you have to help us," the stranger beseeched, jade eyes shining with desperation. Her yellow-cream coat, flecked with paler spots, bore the shine of a wild elkh's self-groomed fur, rather than a domesticated elkh's softer, cleaner fur; twigs and forest debris peeked out from the curls of her cream-colored mane. "Slow down," she said. "Who are you, and how did you find me?" The elkh took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "My name is Meeri. I live in the forests outside Tuil, and…well. Have you visited the shrine recently?" Guinefyr shook her head. "No, not recently. I was going to go soon." Her gaze sharpened. "What has happened?" "The shrines—they've been desecrated." Guinefyr sucked in a breath, but Meeri continued, either too oblivious to notice or too impatient to wait. "We've cleaned them as best as we can, but it's still—" "Sullied," Guinefyr finished flatly. "I see. I hope I am not the only aitielkh you have sought out." "No, no, there are

Guinefyr was no stranger to shroomkin hollows, deep in the forest or hidden in the mountains, but this was the first time she had visited this particular colony this year, and their excitement at her arrival made her smile. The cubs had never met her before, of course, and introductions had to be made. It was not a struggle to let the young shroomkin—still young enough to lack many distinguishing features—clamor at her feet for stories of the world beyond, nor was it a struggle to kneel down so that they might play with her long mane and tail as she told them tales of the world beyond their little hollow. One of the colony's herbalists, Bria, looked on fondly as Guinefyr permitted one particularly bold cub to tug at her flower crown. "What brings you here?" Bria asked eventually, settling down more comfortably in the plush grass. "You don't normally come without a reason." "I need a reason to visit an old friend?" Guinefyr asked dryly, already knowing Bria's response. "You always

"Water, snacks, first aid kit…" Heidi bustled around, packing her supplies neatly in a bag that hooked onto the same harness that Meg wore while working in the fields. Heidi had had it commissioned specifically to accommodate many working situations; there were interchangeable baskets, bags, and even a rack of hooks for transporting bundles of dried or drying flowers. Today Meg was wearing both bags; Heidi had already packed one with more water, a pair of heavy pruning scissors, and a bottle of sunblock for herself. "Don't forget your whistle," Meg pointed out, spotting the silver tool on the counter. Heidi scooped it up and hooked the long cord over her head, letting the whistle dangle against her chest as she buckled the second bag shut. "Good call," she agreed. "It's not too heavy? Do I need to redistribute anything?" Meg took a few jouncing steps to settle the bags against her sides. "I think it's good!" "Right, let's go then. We're supposed to head northeast from the shrine

SeaCrest-Star (274 words) Zari squared her shoulders, eyeing the Rift. Wherever it went, woolynes had gone and come back, bearing fantastic tales of other sentient beings, strange creatures that called themselves—well, there were several of them. Pouflons with four legs, four wings, and little toe hooves; ursukis, giant creatures with long claws and plants growing out of their backs; vespires, with colored smoke escaping from their mouths and sharp teeth that could withstand a diet of rocks and other minerals. And those were just the sentient ones! The swarm? Little things from their world, Bellacoste, infected by the corruption that they, too, had experienced. Zari and Essey wanted to see this for themselves. "Are you sure you don't want to come, Emmie?" Zari asked as the line to enter the Rift moved forward. The gentle woolyne nodded, smiling faintly. "Somebody has to take care of the farm, and I did promise to make sure your place is secure and your garden is watered," she

SeaCrest-Star (307 words) Ilyla tossed her head as Zari adjusted her halter for what felt like the fiftieth time, her nerves making her much more fidgety than usual. Zari, that is, not Ilyla. Ilyla was perfectly calm, if a little annoyed at Zari's constant fussing. Essey laid a calming hand on Zari's arm. They had gotten up early to give Ilyla a proper bath, with a special shampoo that made her fur even softer and silkier than usual, then brushed her and combed her longer fur. Her halter was not, technically speaking, a practical halter that would help in a situation where she ran off, but given how self-possessed Ilyla was, that seemed like a remote possibility. Zari had braided cream cord and gold thread in a four-strand braid for the base of the halter, and then added slender gold tassels to the temple, cheek, and nose joints of the halter, hastily crafted from Essey's leftover thread the night before. She had then pinned one of Essey's gold butterfly pins at Ilyla's left temple.

Tears Are Shed Emmy startled as Zari slumped against the stall door beside her. The nikyak she was grooming looked back at her with one liquid brown eye, concerned by the sudden cessation of the brushing. "Are you okay?" Emmy asked, lowering her brush. "Is Fluffers too much? We can swap—" "He's running around the paddock like it's some kind of game," Zari grumbled, exasperated. Emmy stifled a laugh. "You have to treat him like a toddler," she explained, resuming her grooming. "If you stop chasing him, he'll get bored quickly." Zari looked nonplussed. "I…I've never dealt with toddlers…" "Never…?" Emmy stared at her, and then realized that Zari had probably never had much to do with the youngest urchins that Essey took in and sponsored; she was more comfortable with the older children, those who were old enough to know what street fighting was, and knew the consequences of losing. Those children resonated more with her, because she'd been like them, once. Toddlers rarely survived

SeaCrest-Star (440 words) Closing her eyes, Zari listened to Essey rustling around with something in the room beyond the curtain, and began to doze. She hoped that Essey had missed the new apron she'd been working on among her things; she'd been working on it in secret for weeks, and while Essey had to have an idea that something was up (for Zari had had to get her to stand still to take measurements to make sure everything was just right), hopefully she wasn't sure what the end product was. Like all the aprons Zari had made Essey over the years, this one was made up of a sturdy canvas cloth, cut exactly the right length, but this one was lined with soft cotton, and the straps were nearly twice as wide to make sure they comfortably distributed the weight of the apron and anything Essey wanted to store in the pockets, as well as the tools that Zari had purchased and fitted into the apron. They were some of the most common things Essey used in the kitchen, that could just be wiped down

SeaCrest-Star (449 words) It was early afternoon when Zari, Essey, Fluffers, and Ilyla reached Aldlight, the Amiyn capital city and the hub for the Amiyn Winter Festival and all its assorted events. The winter sunlight was bright and white against the snow that blanketed the city already, and Zari and Essey were both very thankful for their quilted jackets and sturdy boots. Ilyla was bearing the cold surprisingly well, which perhaps shouldn't have been a surprise at all, given that she had, presumably, been born here; this was where Zari had first found her, during the rebuilding efforts after the war. The city was filled with woolynes hurrying about, and Zari tugged Fluffers to a stop so that Essey could consult the street signs. The nikyak had been eerily well-behaved, almost as if he were another nikyak entirely, and Zari made sure she kept a firm grip on the reins in case he decided that he had behaved for long enough. "Redwood Inn, right?" Essey asked, squinting at the sign. "Yes

SeaCrest-Star (197 words) Essey's bakery kitchen was filled with the smell of warm, sugary treats. Every flat, horizontal surface was covered in baked goods—sugar cookies, freshly baked, fruitcakes, fruit tarts, gingerbread cookies, individual hand pies, molasses cookies, sugar window cookies...Essey had been baking for days, and while Zari had done her best to help, she wasn't nearly as efficient as Essey was. Besides, she had also been busy herself, finishing handkerchiefs, shawls, scarves, and ribbons to wrap their treat baskets in. They were going to pack everything up and haul it to Aldlight, where they would give them out to old friends they had met during the rebuilding efforts, or to new friends they met along the way. After all, Queen Rue's decree that the festival activities be expanded meant that there would be plenty of opportunities to meet new woolyne, particularly during the elkin parade and other events, where Zari would be entering Ilyla into as many shows as she

Bathing Attempts… "So…how do you think we get Fluffers out of there?" Zari and Essey watched the nikyak in question rolling around in the mud. Emmy had asked for their help, but she really hadn't given them much in the way of guidance, only warning them that Fluffers, while generally agreeable about baths, was easily distracted. Zari had thought that she had been overly anxious when she had been giving them directions, but now she thought she understood. "Treats?" Essey suggested doubtfully. Neither of them particularly fancied wrangling the nikyak into place, but it was hard to picture getting his attention long enough to coax him into the bathing area. Trying to bathe him while standing in the mud would be counterproductive as soon as they tried to move around again. The nikyak rolled to his feet, giving himself a shake and sending clots of mud flying. Zari winced, glad they were standing out of range, and then picked up the bell that Emmy had given them. "He should come at the

They were in (allegedly) dangerous waters now, and the pod seemed to know it, clustering together even more tightly than before, until Aris was reasonably sure that she could have jumped from one selpie's shell to another without any trouble at all. Given their nervousness, she had taken the liberty of arming the harpoon launchers mounted to the rails of her boat, and her handheld one, more like a crossbow than anything else. She held it comfortably as she scanned the water, letting Darkward pull the boat by means of a rope connected to a harness, which in turn was secured to his shell through a number of hooks so that it was a little more secure in the water. Bonnie had assured her that the hooks were cemented on with a special glue, and not actually drilled through the bone to anchor them; so long as the rope was tethered properly and the harness was not damaged, the system shouldn't cause too much strain for Darkward, although his overall top speed would be slower, with the added

Aris's boat was small, easily handled by one woolyne alone, and perfect for accompanying the migrating selpies without disturbing them. She had chosen not to borrow one of Bonnie's selpies to ride primarily because of her supplies; parchment and ink didn't do well when wet, and she had her own food supplies on board rather than fishing for her food. This allowed her to keep a sharp eye out on the selpies themselves, and any potential dangers. Bonnie was travelling with her own pod, completely at home in the water, but the idea of being wet for several days straight was…well, Aris's fur itched just to think about it. Not to mention that her clothes (and beloved boots) were definitely not waterproof. Unlike Bonnie, she couldn't survive underwater! So she took a sailboat, but at Bonnie's insistence had borrowed one of her selpies to help tow the boat, just in case the winds did not favor her. Aris was a deft sailor, if not the best; her weather eye was trained for land patterns, not