"Elven Folklore Part 3" by J (Proudfoot) Taylor

            “Dost thou mean to send Maari?” the young male voice almost shrieked.  All the messengers, including Talón and the newly arrived Jinu, stood before the Council of Elders.  The young messenger had stood silent until hearing the news that Maari should be sent out.  Disbelief covered the faces of those who knew her for she was certainly not one of the fast neither in sprint nor distance.  “The messenger Ylé would beg the Council reconsider the decision.”

            The Elder Riana gazed at the young messenger with calm blue eyes.  Her hair up in a bun caused her to seem more diplomatic than the rest of the Council.  “For personal reasons?” the Elder coaxed.

            The messenger brushed back loose hair, flushing slightly from the question.  He flushed not from truth being told but simply for the question.  He spoke evenly despite his embarrassment.  “Not for personal reason, Elder.  And not of jealousy.  I speak so simply for the fact that the messenger Iró couldst be much swifter than the messenger Maari.”

            “A very unkind thing to say,” the Elder Natí spoke, his light eyes setting on the younger one speaking.

            The messenger bowed politely and then continued in a gentle voice.  “I speakest not unkindly but truthfully Elder Natí.  Certainly, thou wouldst not place a scholar in a Council at which they couldst not record as quickly as spoken.  This is the same Elder.”

            The shi-ró Elder nodded softly, and the messenger only saw this from the corner of his eye.

            “However, still unkind to speak in front of all those she knows,” the Elder countered.

            “Not unkind, only truthful,” the messenger Maari broke in.  Her green eyes filled with rejection, yet acceptance.  “All those gathered knowst this so there wouldst be no reason to not speak now.  And to speak such truths in front of all dost take a good amount of courage.”

            “Then the Elder Kéno extends approval of thy behavior.  Still, dost thou think that the Elder who tracks her charge wouldst make a bad decision?”  The green of the eyes of the Elder met that of the younger.

            A deep bow and head kept low with the response.  “No, Elder Kéno.  The messenger Maari dost extend apologies for questioning the decision of the Council, but the messenger stands by what she has spoken, and she even supports the messenger Ylé.”

            The young elf shook his light blond head and bowed deeply to the Elders, as well.  “The messenger Ylé stands by what he has spoken and accepts support from the messenger Maari.”

            “Thou may rise, little ones,” the Elder Riana spoke with a smile.

            “In answer to thy first question, messenger Ylé: the Elders decided upon Maari to do this run for Iró, though swift, does not yet know the pathways to our brother and sister tribes,” the Elder Kéno spoke, eyes slightly gentler than their normal hue.

            “May the messenger Maari make a request of the Elder Kéno?”

            “Yes, she may,” the Elder answered, eyes now settling upon the female elf of red hair, and ears perked with particular interest.

            “The messenger Maari wouldst ask if she may be accompanied by the little one, messenger Iró.”

            All eyes went from Maari down to the little one with long blonde hair, which, although braided, seemed a mess.  His ears flit twice, causing his stud earrings to make a reflection resembling an imp to wander over the top of the heads of the elders.  A large grin settled upon his face as he turned to the member of his band.

            “Wherefore wouldst thou make such a request?” the shi-ró Elder asked, his tone seeming to weigh her request.

            “He needs to learn the paths, Elder.  If fulfilled, this will help the youngest of us to be able to run without another much sooner.”

            “A very fair reason,” the Elder Kéno approved.  “The request made by the messenger Maari is approved.”  The Elder who stood for messenger closed her eyes for a moment before continuing.  “As there has been word from our two brother and sister tribes, there are still two others that we must contact.  Messenger Maari has been chosen to do the run to Wind’s Song accompanied by the messenger Iró.  The messenger Ylé has been chosen for the run to Stand of Earth.”

            “The messenger Ylé thanks the Council for the decision.”  The messenger bowed, letting blonde hair fall over his eyes.

            The Elder Kéno only nodded in reply.  “The rest of the messengers are expected to be ready at any moment for a run.  Also, all messengers are expected to study more policy; all the happenings make it necessary for this.”

            The shi-ró Elder continued after there were nods of understanding.  “Because of all the happenings, all may be asked to take on new or more duties.  Please accept these with understanding and grace.  All others will be asked to do the same.  Is this understood.?”

            “Aye, it is, Elder Umato,” all the messengers replied with a bow.

            “Very good.  Those who have been given duty are expected to gather necessities only and then return immediately.  The rest of the messengers are dismissed.”

            Ylé exited with the messenger Maari, Iró, and Talón.  “I apologize,” the words spoken softly as they began the walk to their houses.

            “The apology is accepted.  Thou were’t right in thy words,” the female messenger answered, green eyes downcast.

            The blonde messenger looked up to see the foreign elf holding the hand of his female companion.  With a soft sigh, he turned toward his house, barely glancing back to watch the other three continue.  He knocked softly with his knuckles on the front door of the large cabin where he lived.

            “Enter,” a female voice answered from within.

             The young elf entered slowly, though he tried to hid it, his ears turned down slightly and his feet hit the ground not so light, causing the jangle to sound more often than usual.  He heard the coo from the child at the breast of his mother, and he came to kneel beside her on her sleeping place.  “Mamá, how fairs the youngest?”

            The mother, dark blue eyes falling upon her eldest, smiled, and replied.  “He fairs well.  I do worry about my eldest, though.  His jangles were frequent as he entered.”  She took the fingers of her left hand and traced the jaw line with gentleness.  “Tell me what troubles thee, my son.”

            The young elf bowed his head and closed his eyes as he let out a sigh.  He felt a soft press of lips against his forehead before he looked up again with his blue eyes.  “I have been sent on a run to Stand of Earth.”

            “Thy first long run.  On thine own?”  The face of the mother smiled as she looked at her son.

            Despite the kind looks and words from his mother, the humor of the young elf was unchanged.  “I do not wish to make the run, mamá.”

            “Wherefore?  Come.  Willst thou sit beside me and thy brother?”

            “Aye,” the young boy answered with a nod.  He came to sit closer to his mother, tears forming in his normally bright eyes.

            “What tis it that causes thee no wish to go?  Thou hast made many other runs.”  The mother gazed down at her child and wrapped her free arm around him softly.

            “That which hast passed within the past few days,” his voice trailed before he continued.  “There have been deaths and the creatures who hunt our family are terrible.”

            “Ylé, thou must calm thy nerves and rid thyself of that fear.  Thou hast made such runs before; this should be no different than the others.”

            The young one looked up at his mother.  Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her and he spoke no words.

            “Run as thou always dost.  Swiftly, my Ylé.”  She placed another kiss upon his brow before speaking again.  “Now, go prepare for thy run.”

            The young elf nodded softly, wiping quiet tears from his cheeks.  He rose slowly before continuing to his area where he packed light.  His daggers placed in his belts; he wrapped the belt around his waist as he gazed down at the scrolls he had been studying.  The young elf took up his water skin and then continued to the water bowl to fill it.  He closed the lid on the water skin with the cork, and then pulled the shoulder strap over his head.  He shook his head from side to side so the strands would all fall into place.  With a last look, he found he had gathered all the things necessary for the journey.  He came back to sit beside his mother, who drew him close to her hear.  “Mamá,” his voice trembled.

            “Hold no fear,” she spoke, placing a motherly kiss upon his brow.  “Just remember the strength of thy father is in thy blood.”

            The young elf sniffed once as he hugged his mother.  “I thank thee, mama.”

            “All my blessings upon the path thou must run.  Now off with thee.”

            “Aye.”  The young one rose to his knee to kiss the cheek of his mother, and following he placed a kiss upon the head of his infant brother.  He rose to his feet slowly, and then exited his house to continue on to the Council building.

            His steps fell softly on the ground, and the jangle of his anklets brought other messenger down from the trees and out of other hiding places.  Those of his age began to walk beside and slightly behind him.  The younger ones gathered behind, and a few of the bolder ones stayed ahead while walking backward.  Shiraa popped out from behind a bush.  He emerged and planted his adolescent body in front of his companion.  The silver eyes of Shiraa shined with moisture, as the sun covered the gathered with his warmth.  The cooling wind blew through the trees, and caused the hair of the dark blonde messenger to fall in front of his face.

            The messenger of lighter hair met the eyes of his companion with his green ones.  His eyes began to glisten like those of his companion, and his fair face blanched slightly as the silence continued.  Only jingles of arriving messengers and the whispering of leaves interrupted the silent emotion that loomed above the gathered.  The messenger of light hair watched as his companion began to breathe slightly faster, and slowly he realized his own swallows were becoming harder to choke down.  Finally, the two messengers embraced each other, the jingle from the anklets breaking the unnerving silence.

            “Never hast there been a run of such danger since our beginning, Ylé,” the voice of Shiraa cracked as he spoke the name of his companion.

            “Shiraa, thou dost give thy companion much more credit than deserved.”  The lighter pulled away, wiping tears from his eyes so none could see.  He watched his companion did the same as he pulled away.  The youngest of his band came to embrace him, as well.  The untamable hair pulled back into a tight braid swayed in the wind.  The others of his band gathered in a circle about him, and additionally the two foreign messengers joined.

            “I do believe a call of blessings should be made,” Shiraa announced, turning to all the messengers gathered.  “Blessings for the messengers Ylé, Maari, and Iró.  All of these, my companions, have a long path.”

            The three messengers called stood facing each other while the other messengers gathered in a large circle holding hands.  The messenger Shiraa repeated his words clearly in second tongue so the foreign messengers could understand.

            The messenger of hair near-white turned to his companion of red hair before the blessing began, “Forgive me for my behavior earlier.  My words were hurtful.”  Although he had apologized before, he still felt he had wronged his female companion.

“Forgiven,” the female elf answered with a nod.  Her curls bobbed slightly as she continued quietly, “Thy words were true and thou didst believe thou were’t doing right for thy family.”  She took the hand of her peer and the hand of her younger companin with a soft smile.

The male elf of blond hair smiled back and took the hand of his younger companion.  “Thy first run; may thy path be safe.”

“And thine, brother,” the elf of long hair replied.

A silence settled upon the gathered as the silent ritual of blessings began.  A single jangle sounded from each messenger as their silent blessings finished, until it again met the messenger Shiraa.  His foot rose above the ground slightly, and the other messengers followed suit.  Three stomps all together with the ornamented ankles set a sparkle of chimes into the warm air.  Each messenger stepped back and released each others hands as the three in the middle opened their eyes at the sound of finish.

“Our gratitude to our companions all,” Maari announced in a voice trembling.  Her partner of dark complexion picked her up in his strong arms and cuddled his cheek upon hers.

            Ylé only smiled at the two, while the messengers not in his band dispersed.  A whispered voice at the chest height of the adolescent came, “Dost thou believe the two messengers before us will hold to each other?”  The older messenger nodded slowly as he watched the two embrace.  The two touched lips but for a moment before the bright faced female touched the ground once again.  “Shall we go meet the Council?” the youngest piped up.

            “Aye, we shall,” the messenger Ylé answered with a smile at his companion.

            The female elf nodded with a shy smile.  “We shall.”

            All of the band accompanied the three, along with the partner of Maari, who walked beside her.

            “The band will wait here until those on duty return, then we shall see them off,” the messenger of short hair and silver eyes spoke.

            “And those of duty thank the band,” Ylé replied as he opened the door and the other two messengers entered before him.  He followed as soon as the other two were in, and he allowed the door to shut behind them.  To the surprise of the young messenger, the guardian of lavender hair and icy gaze stood beside the female scholar, who usually scribed.  His green eyes met the cold gaze of the guardian with familiarity.  A tug at his deer skin broke his silent recognition and he came to join the other two in front of the Council.

            “Messenger Maari, thou dost know the way to the village?” the Elder Riana asked in her gentle voice.

            “Aye, I have made that run and know the way, Elder,” the young female answered with a nod of bobbing curls.

            “And thou dost know thy way, messenger Ylé?”

            The young male nodded with loose strands falling in front of his face, “Aye.”

            “Very well,” the shi-ró Elder continued.  “The Elder Umato shall speak the words all three of those gathered shall speak upon arrival in second tongue.  Two scrolls shall be given to be delivered and both shall be written in second tongue.  Understood?”

            “Understood,” the three young messengers confirmed.

            The young messenger of light hair glanced over to the table to find the guardian sitting beside the normal scribe with scroll and brush.  He listened well to the words spoken in second tongue that he would deliver, but his eyes wandered to the swift hand of the guardian.  The guardian seemed to be writing faster than the usual scholar.  A hard nudge in his ribs caused the messenger to wince and turn his eyes back to the Elder with ears of a brown horse.  A momentary glance of warning was given to the youngest messenger, who returned with the briefest smile of mischief.

            “Have the messenger understood the message that must be delivered?” the Elder with long white hair asked.

            “Aye, it is understood, Elder,” the three messengers answered in unison.

            “Wouldst the messengers repeat the message back to the Council?”

            “Aye.”  The three looked at each other before turning back to the Council.  The messenger of hair near white closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.  Mentally he recollected all that was said until he came to the beginning.  Opening his eyes, he looked back at the other two of his band.  The other two nodded to him their readiness and he nodded back.  Together the three repeated the message back in second tongue.  The messenger of light green eyes glanced over at the two scribing, each filing in a new scroll.  Before his mind could wander further, he focused back on the Council continuing to repeat the words with his companions.  With a deep breath he spoke the final words, and then he bowed with his companions.

            With a nod, the shi-ró Elder turned to the two at the scribe table.  “The scrolls art ready, scholar Talani and guardian Temmá?”

            “Aye, both art ready, Elder Umato,” the scholar answered as she rolled her scroll.

            The Elder nodded to the two before turning back to the messengers.  “The messengers Ylé and Maari shall each receive and carry a scroll.  The messenger Iró is expected to follow beside the messenger Maari in order to learn the route to Wind’s Song.”

            The guardian Temmá handed a slim deerskin to the young messenger; Ylé only realized after it was handed to him that it was the scroll he was to deliver.  “Wilt thou see me out?” the young messenger asked in a whisper.

            The guardian gave a considering glance before he took his place back at the scribe desk.  He was joined a moment later by the female scholar.

            “Are there any question the messengers wish to ask the Council before they must leave?” the lead Elder asked.

            “Nay, Elder.  The messenger Ylé is ready,” the messenger replied with a light nod.

            “Nay, the messengers Maari and Iró are satisfied,” the messenger Maari answered with a nod of her red curls.

            “All are dismissed then,” the elder spoke, his brown horse ears bending slightly.  “The messengers are expected to leave immediately, and the two acting as scribes have leave for the rest of the day.”

            The guardian Temmá followed the three messengers out into the air.  Several messengers, he assumed form their bands, waited outside for the three.  He watched the female messenger jump into the arms of the foreign elf of darker skin.  The little one who was to accompany the female gave a smirk before turning to those he would leave behind.  Embraces were exchanged until the older male messenger spoke.

            “Maari, t’is time now to leave,” he spoke, brushing his short hair back and tying it with a leather strap.

            The female broke away form her partner slowly, “Aye, t’is time.”  Her partner leaned down to touch his lips to hers one more time, and the guardian found himself sneering at the gesture.

            “Come to see us off then?” the familiar voice of the young male asked.

            The guardian looked into the light green eyes of the messenger.  He blinked slowly and considered his words cautiously before speaking.  “Thou hast kept me informed on matters of importance, young one.  To see thee off is little compared to what thou has done.”  The guardian ignored all those gathered as he spoke with his young companion.  Watching the amazed expression of the messenger, he nodded, allowing lavender touched hair fall over his eyes.

            “I thank thee for thy kind words,” the young messenger returned with a slight bow.

            “Safety upon the paths thou travels, young one.”

            “And safety upon thine, brother.”

            The silence that surrounded the two was queer for tidings of leave should have been spoken while the two spoke.  Noticing the silence, the guardian gave his normal smirk and wiped his bangs from his face.  “Off with thee; off to thy duty.”

            “Aye, brother.  Off I go.”  The young elf turned and ran off in the direction assigned to him.

            The guardian Temmá watched as the adolescent ran off into the brush.  A whisper of the youngest caught his attention as he focused back on that close by.  He looked the little one over, the corners of his mouth showed a momentary smile as he saw the long golden braid that hung over his shoulder.  “Whisper thou may, little one.  Ears keen still hear.”

            They little messenger gaped at the guardian and tossed his braid behind him.  “Nothing harmful did I speak.”

            “Thou shouldst be off to thy duty, as well.”

            The little one turned his silver eyes to his older companion, who met his eyes with even confusion.

            The guardian shook his head and, without further word, left.  As he walked off, he listened to the last goodbye and then the jangle of the two messengers leaving.  His ears fell softly in laziness while he walked.  Practiced steps caught his lazy ears, which steadily perked with the approaching creatures.  With a loud sigh, he spoke aloud, “What is it that thou wishes to harass me with?  Curious eyes and curious ears.”

            A young voice replied, moving beside him; another on his left came forward, as well.  He looked to the one with dark-blonde hair, “Came to see the messenger Ylé off on his run.  Dost thou hold companionship to him?”

            The guardian let out a large sigh before answering the messenger.  “Wherefore wouldst thou ask such a foolish question?”  He glanced to the left toward the foreign elf of darker skin.  “And wherefore dost thou follow me, little one?”  He asked in second tongue.

            “Why would you care?” the foreign elf replied, a smirk upon his lips.

            “Too much of a mouth thou dost have.”  He turned back to the native messenger, a jingle in the air.  “I came to see the messenger for he has kept me informed.”

            “That is all?’ the silver eyes of the messenger questioned and his brows raised.

            “And the messenger made request of it.”

            “If I were to ask, wouldst thou come to my leave?”

            “Foolishness.  Nay.  I owe thee nothing and I know nothing of thee,” the guardian scoffed, tossing his head up.

            “By name I am Shiraa; messenger in the band that Ylé is member.  Now thou dost know of me.”

            The guardian stopped mid-step and turned toward the young messenger.  His blue eyes focused, meeting the eyes of his junior and his ears posed carefully in particular annoyance.  “What dost thou wish of me?  Thy foolish antics and the silly games of thy peers holds no amusement for me.”

            “Rumors seem to hold true, brother,” the young elf spoke, avoiding the eyes of the guardian.  “A rumor speaks thou art ruthless in thy dealings and thy tolerance is low. Another rumor speaks thou art fey.”  The eyes of the messenger wandered back to meet those of the guardian.  “And I can find no other reason for thy civil dealings with my companion except that thou dost hold love of a partner for him.”

            The ears of the guardian pinned back and a low growl slowly emerged.  “Thou darest accuse me of such things!”

            The younger cringed and stepped back.  “I speak what I see.”

            “I can assure thee that no such emotions do I harbor for thy companion.  Thy young mind wanders to such lustful thoughts.  It wouldst give thee pleasure to have such foolish thoughts.”  The nostrils of the older elf flared and his eyes filled with an icy glaze.  “Now, dost thou have anything further thou wouldst accuse me of?”

            The messenger shook his head quickly.

            The guardian turned once again to the foreign elf.  His gaze still filled with chill, but not so much as the look he had just given the native.  “And dost thou have anything?”

            “No, except that your fame does speak truth.”  The foreign messenger spoke with seeming ease.

            “What fame dost thou speak?”  The tone of the guardian changed none, but his glare loosened.

            “The story says that you lost your closest friend, and since then you have treated others badly.  To make up for you guilt you pay no respect to others.”  The face of the adolescent was straight as he spoke.

            “And dost thou think now that thou hast met me?”  His voice unmoved, but underneath he trembled.

            “You are as terrible as rumored.  But not nearly as cruel.”

            The guardian began to feel an emotion tugging at his mind.  Instead, he shook his head and stepped forward, now turned toward the messengers both.  “Enough!  Take leave.  The messengers have duty to attend and I have leave for the rest of the day.  Off with thee both.”  The guardian did not glare as he normally did, but his gaze was stern.

            The messengers looked at each other, and then with a nod both turned and walked away.

            The guardian watched the two leave cautiously.  His ears caught indistinct whispers from the messenger of dark hair, and just as quiet, whispers in reply from the elf of blond hair.  With a soft sigh he turned back in the direction he was originally headed.

            “A call from above,” a female voice came from the trees.

            “Thou foolish maid!” the guardian called back.

            “Be kind, wouldst thou?  May I ask thee a question?”  The voice followed from the treetops above.

            “Enough questions I have had.  The last question I wouldst wish to answer wouldst be thine.”

            A light thump before the guardian after his answer.  The dark eyes of Talani met the light eyes of Temmá.  She blinked slowly and looked him over before she spoke.  “I noticed thou didst wear thy robes when thou were’t called to Council.  The young ones are only curious, guardian.  Do not hold their young acts against them.”

            The guardian shoved the scholar aside and continued walking.  He tossed his head up and spoke, but did not look back at the female.  “I say that the little ones are foolish.”

            The gentle steps of Talani came as an echo of the steps of the guardian.  “Wherefore?  Perhaps thou were’t not a curious child, but most are.  Thy companion…”

            The guardian interrupted with a rumbling growl.  “My companion thou may speak not of.  Thou knew nothing of him.”

            “I knew little of him, but I did know him.”  The tone of the female became low and threatening.

            “As thou wishes to believe, scholar.”  The guardian quickened hi pace, yet the female elf continued to keep pace with him.  He looked at her as he continued to walk.  “What else dost thou wish to torment me?  I tire of hearing questions and idle talk.”

            “Nothin else do I wish to ask thee or speak of,” she answered calmly.

            “Then off with thee,” he responded simply.

            The female stopped and stamped her foot upon the ground.  Obviously meant to call his attention, the guardian ignored and continued on.  An object hit his shoulder, but he still continued.  A shout followed as he came out of hearing distance, still, he ignored the noise with a roll of his eyes.  The guardian had become immune to such ill tidings long ago.  Sweeping his hair back with one hand, he mumbled to himself about the young of his family.  More discipline he recalled even when he had gone through his days as a messenger.  All knew that messengers were the most likely to gossip, it had always been that way.  Still it bothered him that even with the circumstances they played as they did.  His ears perked as a noise ahead caught his attention.  He steps slowed as he looked and found a deer.  His hand slipped beneath his robes and a dagger he pulled form within.

            Gradually, he came down on all fours and inched forward with the dagger in hand.  The deer looked toward him, and mid-reach he stopped.  His body completely still, and eyes still focused.  The ears of the deer turned to another sound and she craned her neck to look somewhere else.  Again he crept forward, this time his ears listening for what the deer heard.  Cautiously, he rose to two feet to a squat, and then slowly he stretched hi legs, ready for a sprint.  His free hand disappeared into his robes and then a second dagger emerged.  His ears fell slightly as his eyes focused in on his prey.

            A high screech came from above, and the deer looked up in time to watch the arrow enter her hindquarters.  With a squeal, the creature fell and began her struggle to rise.  The guardian glared up into the trees as a hunter of his age hopped down.  “Calm,” the elf spoke, pierced ears falling slightly.  The female of light brown hair pulled another arrow from her quiver and strung it with swift fingers.  The string now held tight, she came a bit closer.  Her bright blue eyes searching for the opening.

            The guardian slipped his daggers back beneath his robes wit a growl.  He rose to his two feet fully and approached with heavy steps.  The arrow was released from close range, and the deer only struggled, for a moment before lying still in death.  “Thou tracks the same prey as I,” he called to the elf of his tribe.

            Her face turned to him as she put her bow away.  “That seems to be true.”  She kneeled beside the deer and began inspecting it.

            He stood a few feet from the deer and watched the female do as was expected of her.  “No others from thy band are with thee?”

            The female looked up at him with a raised brow.  “No, wherefore dost thou ask?”

            “Curiosity only,” he replied.  He recognized her face as one he had met years before, yet he could not place where he had met her.  Without another word, he left the female and the deer and continued on the path he had been on.

            Once he was out of the range of the female, he pursed his lips and began whistling like the wild birds.  From the birds he wished no attention, he only hoped to entertain himself as he walked with no destination in mind.  A few curious birds came to glance at, but soon they grew tired and flew off.  His thoughts turned to the Council.  Certainly, the Council would choose to stand against that which threatened the family.  Still, they had only acted defensively so far.  All who played the strategic games of old knew that when one only acted defensively it was impossible to win.  His whistling ceased as he heard whispers above.  Giggles sounded as if they were stifled by hands and branches swayed without aid from the wind.  The elf shook his head and focused his eyes on the branches above.  His hand slipped beneath his robe to pull the dagger out again.  His pupils grew pinpointed as he focused on his target.  With a swift movement, the dagger was released from his hand and stuck into the limb above.  Several shouts and screams came from the branch, followed by a rather young elf slipping form the cover.  The young elf turned his yes to the guardian and let out another bud scream as he tried to pull himself up into the cover of the trees again.  “Now that I have seen thee and heard thy companions, it wouldst be best for thee to come down.”

            A different voice replied as the little one had been helped up by several pairs of little hands, “Leave him alone.  If thou didst wish to be left alone, thou shouldst have kept thy lips silent.”

            “Silence upon thy lips, little one!” he shouted back.

            “Thou shall receive no fear from me.  I have watched thee often.  I know thou art not as dangerous as thou wouldst like others to believe,” the voice retorted.  The voice, though young, seemed as to be that of a female.

            “Come down here, little maiden, so that I may insult thy pride to thy face.”  This comment he spat up to the tree with his arms crossed.  He listened to the surprised whispers of the little ones.  He smiled to himself as he had obviously just guessed the gender of the tart little creature.

            “Wherefore dost thou not come up here?” the little one challenged.  In hushed voices, he heard the companions of the little one warn her.

            “As thou wouldst have it.”  The guardian went right up to the tree and climbed up to the branch where the little ones hid.  As his head came even with the branch, all of the little ones screamed, except for the one who had been talking back.  The bright blue eyes of the all the little ones behind the bold one were wide with fright, and some were even forming tears.  The youngest, the one who had almost slipped from the branches a few moments before, began crying and clung to the older girl beside him.  The little girl closest to him seemed to glare; her golden eyes reflected the colors of the leaves about her.  Her dark hair fell at chest length and hung in two loose ponytails in front of her.  The one closest behind her tapped her shoulder and whispered as the guardian stood up on the branch.  He met the eyes of the tart elf with his cold gaze.

            He took a leap forward on the branch, yelling, “Posh!”  Once again, the little ones screeched, clutching to each other fearfully.  The one of golden eyes, however, only flinched.  Even with the extra yell of ‘posh’ she did not budge; though, it meant nothing it was simply a yell to scare.  “Art thou frightened?”  A few of the youngest ones nodded quickly as they tried to hide behind the older ones.  The ones a bit older simply trembled; although, a few others shook their heads slowly to deny it.

            “Thou dost not frighten me in the least!” the little one replied throwing her hand to the side and making her stance more solid.

            “Marry?” he asked slowly, taking a single step forward.

            “Marry.  There are stories of thee.  I do not believe many of them.  I have sent thee myself.”

            Another step forward caused those behind the female to take a small step backward.  “Art thou certain?”  He took another step forward, and the limb groaned in complaint.

            Many of the little ones jumped and looked warily at the limb that was holding them.  “Hold still!” the female ordered, glancing back at those behind her.  She whispered to the companion right behind her, who simply nodded in reply and walked toward those behind him cautiously.

            The guardian watched as an older one lifted himself to the limb above.  After this one was adjusted, the littler ones were handed up to the branch above, while the female held fast to her spot.  “No fear?”

            She shook her head, “None for thy amusement.”

            The guardian stared at her, his ears twitching as he studied.  First he smiled, just a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, and then a hoarse chuckle came to his throat.  After a few moments, he stopped and watched the different expressions of the little ones.  The little one directly in front of him gave a type of sneer, while the others, now on the branch above, looked either horrified or dumb-founded.  “Foolishness.  I have no more time to waste with thou and thine companions.”  He pivoted and began to walk back when the leading female shouted a rather obscene phrase that he had never even heard until his early adult years.  He bristled and growled an even more obscene phrase back, and then he slid down the tree trunk onto the ground.  A friendly root caused him to stub his toe, which he endured with no outward sign of pain, simply because of the watchers above.