“They are likely to push back a bit, outsiders are outsiders regardless of their size, but we have known kinship with the wildlife before. And if I know them all well enough I believe they can be persuaded. But they must be persuaded, otherwise what we have discussed cannot come to pass… at least, not officially. I don’t make it a habit of deciding things without them, so… it’s imperative that you get their approval.” Beechbone looked contemplative for a moment before adding, “Well, usually.” And all the stag could do was nod. It was strange, even if he had called this upon himself. They were an unlikely duo, Earthsea and Beechbone, striding up the snow riddled summit, passing the many mouths of many dens filled with many wolves... Though the travel was quick, Earthsea would have had more than a dozen thoughts, considerations, and worries fill his head. Should he run? Should he fight? Was this the stupidest thing he had ever done? Would he ever see his family again? The latter, of course, having been up for debate the moment he chose to stay behind.
Soon enough Beechbone, the calm and grounded alpha who seemed just as enthused about their venture as Earthsea was, slowed their trot to a stop. “They are working through their morning duties, so we will move as quickly through them as we can. Answer their questions honestly, show your true intent… it might not matter in the end but if this is genuinely your goal, you might as well give it your all. The Elves are a particularly prickly bunch when they want to be. Convincing the Elders is only half the battle…” Only a few paces more and the pair arrived at their first destination. Two of the Elders had already stirred and were occupying the same space – or perhaps they lived together? Earthsea had no way of knowing. Beechbone introduced them as Creeping Bramble and Fern Valley, and the conversation went about as well as it could. Creeping Bramble’s was a neutral opinion. Comparatively, she found wildlife to be far less threatening than the rogues who spilled over their territory and rolled her shoulders at the thought of them joining rank. There was no real draw one way or the other, nor a kinship for her, but she would not argue against the support they could provide. “She might as well have said ‘Sure, go hang out in the woods and be a guard or whatever.’” Beechbone teased long after they had left.
Fern Valley, on the other hand, was incredibly supportive of the idea and enthusiastically exclaimed ‘Stags are formidable in groups!’, insinuating that if one were present, more might follow. It gave Earthsea a bit more hope, and frankly he rather liked the idea of a herd forming as another line of defense… they could do what his family would not. The welcome from this Elder was greatly appreciated. They left with their spirits high, Beechbone making sure to note that out of all the Elders, Creeping Bramble was the most challenging. While the others would have their fair share of opinions, he felt confident that he could win them over. The next den he found was Evenstar’s. The introduction was… weighted. Earthsea wasn’t exactly sure why. But the conversation went well all things considering… Evenstar was amused and impressed by the stag’s bravery but curious just as well. While she was on board with the idea, she also had to wonder: How long would this last? What sort of threats had Earthsea been confronted with before? Were any of them like that of the Trolls? And would this bravery remain should they, or any other threat, come to the valley? They were questions Earthsea would go on to ask of himself long into the night.
Finally, the den Beechbone mentioned was closest to his, belonged to Hazel Lock. Much like his relationship with the others, Beechbone moved into the space and bowed, to which Earthsea had done just as well… only this time he was met with a quick bow and a jest from the short-tailed female Elf. Beechbone made a point to recognize Hazel as 'the one who roots for the rogues the most.' And Hazel Lock was warm and inviting, albeit forthright. She came with her own set of inquiries, some mirroring those of the other Elders, but overall seemed eager to have this come into fruition. Of course the wildlife would be willing to aid them, it was mutually beneficial. At one moment, she threw her head back and laughed. When Beechbone asked what she found so funny about all of this, she merely shrugged and replied ‘It’s so perfect, I’m almost upset I hadn’t thought of it first.” When they finally left, Beechbone escorted the stag past the dens they had visited, down the way they had come, and out towards the great Mother Tree. There, he instructed the stag on the parameters of his stay. There is a freedom to come and go as he sees fit, but going will come with its own trials and tribulations. The pack needs protection at all times, which means that all hands are always on deck. He noted the ranks and suggested Earthsea assume one; knowing that it would be a difficult integration regardless of where he fell. He hinted that should any other stags or wildlife make their way towards the pack seeking asylum or otherwise, he should lend a helping hand… the unofficial ambassador of the prey beasts in their midst. He gestured towards the areas in which the stag could roam freely and those that required permission. Looking quite serious as he expressed this point.
He insisted that Earthsea remain patient. Not all the Elves would accept him at first, but someday they would see his merit. This much Beechbone was sure of. And then he concluded with a smile, bowing his head deeply. The morning was still young and he, too, had much to do. “Welcome, Earthsea, first stag of The New Era, to The Murkwood Court.”
WC: 1015