A long time before now, the Tundra Hill holt was a small, dangerous and isolated place.

And while it's still rather isolated, and still extremely dangerous, Tundra Hill is anything but small. Rock shapers and ice-mages and fire-makers over the eights have altered the original hill into an expansive underground tunnel system that is fit for any kind of habitation. The original Hill itself is now used only as a meeting place and gathering area for hunting parties, because by now there are more than four times as many elves living there than started out. Add into that their wolves, Greater and normal, and other bonds... The place has dozens if not hundreds of entrances scattered around the frozen landscape, some of them quite distant.

Indeed, one entrance was tunneled by a pair of intrepid rock shapers that lets out at the Great Rift itself, some thousand miles south of the Hill. It is that entrance where we meet the hand of explorers above.

***

The wolves were glad to be outside again. After nearly an eight of eight days walking through the tunnels, the Great Rift opened up below them and a fresh breeze brought the smell of pine trees and sunshine. The Rift here was high on the north side, smoothing down toward the west and heading gently southward in a kind of crescent. It was thousands of miles long, the huge Rift stretched from just north of Greenriver Holt all the way east into the Ice Traders' territory.

None of the elves nor wolves had ever seen those places, of course - they'd all been born in Tundra Hill. Even their parents' parents had been born there. The Hill didn't get many visitors, not even the Ice Traders needed to go that far north for any reason. Only other elves and the occasional Deer Folk on a pilgrimage to see the elfin Holts. But it was one particular wanderer that caught the imagination of these four.

She wasn't even from the Otherforest, let alone Tundra Hill or another Holt. Well, she called a Holt her home, half the year on her home planet. The other half, she lived alone with two dragons and a bunch of animal hides that she turned into beautiful leather. Ainea of Abode arrived one winter, upon the back of a smallish white dragon. She hadn't meant to arrive here, but 'here' was good enough for a feast and trading, before she went home for the duration. But she instilled a bit of wanderlust in a group that struck out on their own.

They didn't know that all around the world at varying times before and after now, other elves would make this massive journey. To the Hall of Portals, where they could then step through a magical window to another world...

But that was another half-year travel away, wasn't it. Ainea didn't speak aloud but she sent to the group, that a winter clutch was laid and it would be a shame if some elves didn't make it. There were almost always elves of some description at this place every winter. She also didn't stick around long enough to help anyone reach this destination on her dragons' back, but she hadn't even intended to arrive here at all - everyone was happy to help her on her way home.

The elders, the first core group who arrived to the Tundra, immediately allowed the request of the four to leave. Perhaps in other Holts the children would be guarded carefully or taught not to stray - but here where space had always been at a premium until more recently, the feeling was that if someone needed space they left and came back when they were ready. The Northstars were proof of that: every winter they came home and doubled the population of the Hill. This winter it was no exception, and with nearly four hundred elves living in the sprawl of caves and tunnels, it was actually more crowded than it had been in eights.

Slowly but surely the population of every Holt was growing. Nothing like the Ice Traders, who had shorter lives and needed to breed in order to progress. Three generations of Ice Traders had gone by fully, since the Tundra Hill holt had been established, so three hundred eighty two elves was pretty good in that amount of time. They'd heard of others (through the wanderers who went past the First, Greenriver, Storm Mountain and other Holts) that were nearly a thousand strong now. Some contrast to their arrival, where perhaps two hundred elves on the whole planet existed...

But now here were four who simply wanted to find out what the fuss was about. They'd never seen other lands, though they enjoyed traveling the snowy scapes around the Hill quite a bit. Since they all had wolves to ride there was no question that they'd be safe and travel relatively quickly. And with two of the wolves being Greater, descended from elfin shapeshifters breeding with wolves, it was almost as if there were an extra elf there.

Hunting along the tunnel was no problem, every day's worth of slow walking travel there was an exit tunnel that led to a shelter above ground. These were sometimes maintained by rock shapers, though one of them had collapsed and had to be rebuilt by hand. Greyrobin's metalshaping did very little good if she could hardly shape rocks. Only metal ores, so she was out of luck. It gave them something to do while the wolves hunted.

But now, with the Great Rift's eastern edge their new travel destination, they set out under the sky for the first time. It made them all a bit nervous - because they'd spent at least half their lives fully underground. Only very few elves in Tundra Hill really remained underground all their lives - one was known to never exit, but he was a bit weird, so he really didn't count...

The sun was so different here, it rose and set at quite a different angle indeed. The sun was still on its winter course, but above Tundra Hill it would have hardly risen above the horizon. Rare indeed was a day when a Tundra elf's shadow disappeared below him!

The hunting was much different, too. There was a herd of white-cloud goats, so named because in the winter they grew long white fluff that came off in huge tufts in spring. They migrated almost all the way over the pole in summer, moving back south in the winter time, so some elves had the opportunity to view their behaviors. They captured a handful of them, and a small colony remain nearby the Hill with the elves keeping their powers on them so they don't vanish. Chasing after the goats, the wolves pulled down two and the group ate under the stars in relative comfort.

Well, Greyrobin was always half naked, her fire-shaping power seemed to keep her from freezing. Burnspur's kept the rest from doing so, his power much stronger than hers. The two of them were said to be lovemates... But who wasn't one of Burnspur's lovemates? He bragged about it, and no one doubted it (mostly because it was true, he was quite a little lothario). Here among the few brave ones wanting to find dragons, he had indeed been intimate with all three.

Daggerblur teleported after a goat himself, bringing back merely an armful of long silky fur. "Well I almost got one!" He laughed. "I think if I don't port to them, they won't run away."

"You're normally so good with creatures like them," said Skytamer, "Clutz."

"You're normally so good at insulting me," Daggerblur replied, tossing a handful of the fluffy fur at her, "what happened?"

"We're all nervous," said Greyrobin. Though she was the youngest of the four, everyone usually followed her lead. No one could lie to her, she read expressions and posture too well. They were a bit tired of travelling even now - and their journey was hardly half over. Best to listen to her, and stop quipping at each other. She sent on a different level than most people did - or at least, something about her struck everyone a little deeper than other folks mind-communication did. She could tell things about people just by glancing at them. Whether it was magic or coincidence, no one knew.

Greyrobin sent to the wolves to come back to their camp and bring whatever they'd killed back with them, and they obliged as easily as any elf would. The two Greater wolves led the other pair, though Creamquarrel was bigger by far than either of the elf-blooded wolves. The pack had grown huge over the years - in quantity not so much, but in size. The massive northern wolves were able to survive in conditions that the hardiest southern wolf would find impossible. How they put on so much weight with so little obvious prey running around!

But now the prey was everywhere. Skytamer chuckled at her own wolf, Wiresight, that he ought to stop eating rabbits every few moments - he was going to get fat. The wolves dragged in two half-eaten goats, and the elves cut bits off of them to cook with their powers. Though there were trees in plentiful supply down in the gorge below, the bit of plateau ledge they had access to here at the north end of the Rift was not exactly covered in pine trees. They had to rely upon a pile of sticks and leaves, dried and burning purely because of magical talent.

*Don't understand why you don't eat it raw like we do,* sent Wiresight, *other elves do it.*

"Well other elves can do whatever they like, I like cooked meat." Greyrobin protested when the Greater Wolf plopped a chunk of liver down onto the dirt beside her, "eeew!"

Laughing, the others helped her clean it up and finally settled in for the evening. Slowly they would make their way east, along this northern ridge until the Rift petered out to a bit of a canyon-wall. It took them many hands of days to reach a point where they knew other beings inhabited the area, the Ice Traders set up banners here and there marking their trade routes. By the time the group did reach a traveled area they spotted not just the Traders banner, but a distinctly shaped pine tree. It was green normally but there was a spiral of bright flame-red twisting up the tree's branches, to the top. That, they'd been told many times by Dreamwood and his murals in the halls of Tundra Hill, was the marker for the Greenriver holt.

And they were in luck: the holt and the Traders were having a gather!

***

"You've come such a long way!" "Why don't you have anything good to trade?" "Have a mug of wine!" "How cold is it really?"

Too many questions, but even so the elves helped themselves to whatever was offered, and simply explained that they weren't intending to be on a trade journey, so they weren't really prepared to buy or sell anything. Content to look but not bother to touch, the foursome took in the bright atmosphere with wide eyes. Though it was nearly Spring now, there was still snow on the ground and white pelts to be traded.

"It's too bad the wolves just scarf everything they can down, in that Rift," said Daggerblur, "we'd have hides of those goats to trade."

"Well, we'd have to carry them too, and that's not my idea of traveling light and fast," Skytamer said. "Look at all this stuff they have... Mugs, plates, clothing, furs... What is that thing?" She pointed at something, no one had a clue what the object could be, it turned out to be an umbrella. Clever Trader design.

Though they weren't used to the open skies, still, the group bedded down near the Trading camp and enjoyed listening to the birds and animals while they slept. There were hardly any birds in the far far north, and certainly not so many noisy ones. But as it had been for the last two months, their travels exhausted them, and they slept well regardless of the birdcalls.

In the morning, however, something startled the group into wakefulness. An odd humming, almost singing voice stirred the morning air. Across the trading field, it seemed there was another party interested in coming along.

"What... are those things?" Said Daggerblur. He peered more closely even when the others spotted some kind of bug-like creature walking along with antennae and too many skinny limbs. "That's ... no elf," he began to walk toward it. Skytamer tried to hold him back, but he shook her hand off his elbow and strode into the center of the trading area. Opposite him were three insectoid creatures, taller than he by a bit but much larger because they had bulbous hind-bodies. They were like a stick-insect creature, spider, and person, all lumped in together. Like a bug got an elf torso and head. They were clearly intelligent, these bugs, they carried packs and had a travois behind one, piled with other goods. All covered in a kind of netting, which, Daggerblur correctly assumed, was something they spun themselves.

"They're here!" Shouted someone, echoed in the Ice Trader language by a more gruff male's voice. Some folks in the camp obviously didn't want to hear this news, a startled yeep or grumbled complaint about 'those weird bugs' was mixed with a rush of certain craftspeople out of their tents. Predictably, it was clothiers and tailors mostly, who arrived outside quickly enough.

"They trade silk?" Asked Daggerblur of one of the local elves. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, it's so much nicer than the pupae-silk we can make. It's heavier, thicker, but it lasts longer too. It makes some of the most beautiful dresses and designs! And what's best about it is they only really like getting little shiny things in trade!" She pushed by him, and greeted the insectoid people happily.

"We've got little shiny things," Daggerblur muttered. He turned back to his camp, and motioned them to come see. Only Greyrobin was really interested in trading, and only Skytamer was really interested in staying away from them. Burnspur brightened up to the idea of getting something in trade when he saw the materials they offered - and realized he'd look really good in them.

In a strange mental connection, the Hive members sent to the elf, *we enjoy creating such things, the elves here can dye the silk whatever color you wish.* Burnspur blinked, it was weird, like a hundred other voices were speaking at once, only very quietly and far away. Friendly enough, though, and he headed toward Greyrobin.

"Sooooo," he said, sidling up to her in their little clearing, "how about finding us something to trade! Or making something! These hills have got to be just filled with metally-ore goodness."

She was busy with something already, apparently, because she said, "hush, working." He moved away and sat between two of the wolves. They were losing their fur in quantity now, he wondered how much of their huge bulk was actually just winter coat? They never seemed to lose much fur up north!

So Burnspur gave Peapop and his own smaller Bolstmith great scratchings, pulling off spare fur by the handful, while Greyrobin worked. She had to rest frequently, so it was after noon by the time she'd gotten any amount of metal to come out of the ground. She claimed the place was laced with it, perhaps the reason that the locale was chosen was because of the ore. But she busied herself once they'd exposed some minerals, and created with her magic a number of dangly trinkets. Burnspur took it upon himself to use a few of the discarded rabbit bones they had after their meal before, to create his own hollow shapes.

"Maybe they could paint these," he said, "nice and smooth," as he shaped them to be almost glasslike in their surface. Little baubles, shiny stones embraced in a narrow metal band and hung from a bead, reeds woven into mats and folded into shapes... Those were the kinds of things that the other traders - elfin and Trader - gave to the Hive for their silks. As long as they could be strung up on something, the Hive seemed likely to trade well for them.

"Wonder why they want these things?" Muttered Daggerblur, with his own collection silken goods in hand already - he'd always collected things, like bugs... Maybe he'd traded off a few of the shiny beetle creature carapaces he'd had? They were really gorgeous, too, irridescent black and green, shiny red, almost golden, it was no wonder he'd been able to trade. But now he'd have to start his collection over again!

Eventually even Skytamer got her courage up to visit the Hive section of the trade gather. She was more at home talking to some of the Ice Traders, really, one of them had a weird device that seemed to give off static shocks, and she was well versed in those! She was aptly named, after all, and she promised a demonstration to the Traders a little later on.

"Why not at the dance tonight?" He asked, his accent was heavy but he spoke the elfin language with ease. Most of the Traders here seemed to speak elf, while only a few of the elves could manage the hard, forceful language of the Traders. They were easily understood, though, and it looked as though almost everyone here could at least make out enough words of the other's language to do business without once speaking it.

"There's a dance," Skytamer said, "we've got to go to the dance, I want to see the other elves, they have space to dance, don't they?"

Dancing was one of those things in the Hill... Not frowned upon exactly but the Chiefess was a bit... hesitant to join in. It always felt as though her eyes were on you, judging you, whenever a dancing circle began. She was a royal pain, though, and out here there was room - and sun - to enjoy really cutting loose.

All those scarves and things that the Hive had just traded away, suddenly looked really good swirling about the elves as they danced.

Though they weren't even dyed or colored or decorated in any way yet, those plain shimmery gossamer items made it clear the value that the Hive had to the Greenriver elves. They shared their land, apparently, with the Hive - though these were wandering traders and would make their way across the continent wherever they were welcome.

Predictably, Burnspur joined the dancing immediately. He spun and twirled, a wild leggy dance that people actually had to back off from a few times. He was really cutting loose, something he'd never gotten to do while in the Hill. But in addition to his movements, it looked as though Greyrobin was adding some of her illusion magic. Making him look like he had bright shadows of himself, echoes timed just behind his movements. Not to be outdone, Daggerblur picked one of the other dancers and added baubles of light around her body - she noticed and gave off a bright laugh, doubling her flashy moves. Pretty soon there were dozens of people following the pair of glowing elves, they led an impromptu dance through the grounds and back to the clearing, all the while covered in streamers and bobbles of light. Other light-shapers appeared to have come from Greenriver.

When it was nearly over, Skytamer concentrated and let the sky peal with a ball of light that illuminated the whole area. She'd given a broad sending to the elves that this was coming, and it appeared that the Trader with whom she'd done business had told his friends, so no one was really scared. It wore her out, making the sky dance with lightning, but it was something she truly enjoyed doing.

A few of the elves around who could fly went up after it was over, coming down with their hair all standing out on end: there was still a field of static out there that they let off by touching other elves and zapping them - then flying away...

"Wish I could fly," Skytamer muttered.

"With a name like that I thought you could," said one Greenriver elf. She shrugged, "but nice show, weather shaping is a very rare gift."

"Not where we're from," she said with a smile, "my mother and grandmother all have it, but somewhere along the way I didn't get flight magic."

After a while, as Greyrobin  and Daggerblur's magic power ran out and they were forced to stop providing a bright lightshow for everyone, they returned to the wolves and their camp, laughing and exhausted. They'd be breaking up the trading camp over the next few days, so everyone would be on their way soon enough.

***

Since they were headed east, the Ice Traders got the hand of elves to come along - their burden animals, those big oxen-things who pulled the large caravan carts - were nervous about the wolves, but as long as the wolves remained where they could see them, the ox had no trouble behaving themselves.

Daggerblur was interested in learning the Ice Traders language, and did his best to emulate what he learned. Though it wasn't magical, his skill at doing so surprised even himself. After all, he had never enountered another language before, other than the Deer folk but they rarely spoke with their voices at all. Mental speech was easier, to the point, and never foreign. All language could be understood by touching minds. So this was a feat, one which even the Traders appreciated.

By the time they'd passed another few landmarks along the big road (the Rift paralleled the road to the north - climbing to the top of a tall tree it could be seen) Daggerblur had the basics of their gruff sounding language down pretty well. He introduced the elves to a few of the words, but no one else really was able to speak it without coughing.

The Traders certainly enjoyed watching the elves perform magical feats. They themselves had no magic to speak of, but they were technological wizards themselves. Only one or two Holts had carts or the 'wheel' at all, so these caravans with their creaky wooden beams and bolted steel hinges, they were amazing enough. They passed the time for another few hands of days, learning how to make a barrel or wheel, the elves sometimes helping to scout or fix something. Only Greyrobin with her metal shaping could be of much use to the carts if they were damaged, as tree-shaping was not a skill that the Hill needed a lot of, and had largely been neglected in their populace for a generation.

The road soon became a real cobblestone one, and the ride got much worse in the elves' opinion. It clattered their teeth together, and made so much noise! No wonder there was little game in this area, they were all scared away any time a cart rode loudly over the stones! But it did make for quick travel, they had to admit that. More often than not though, they were now on the side of the road upon their wolves.

When they reached the first of the Ice Traders towns, the elves were in awe. Here were masterful buildings standing out beside the stone cliffs, surrounded by the woods - they made an effort to replant new trees for those which were cut down. That was something that the elves could thank the first of their kind for, Snowdrift was fond of traveling through these towns and had always had a good rapport with the leaders. She had stressed how important it was to live with the natural surroundings, instead of on top of them - giving her homeworld as an example of what happened when you ignore that fact.

Even so, it was so very alien to have structures poking out of the ground. Doors of wood and leather, stone buildings that had no magic about them - so said all their senses - but were sturdier and had such appeal! They weren't much taller than a sturdy tree, because the Traders weren't much taller than an elf. But they were wider, by far, and strong, so these buildings suited their needs.

The elves found that these people were friendly, welcoming, and generous. To a point, of course. They insisted the wolves remain at a bit of a distance, they were after all pretty darn huge and dangerous looking - and the Traders had livestock domesticated for food that they didn't want to fall prey to the big wolves. Surrounded as they were on all sides by evergreen forests, there was reasonably good hunting out there anyway.

Eventually they moved along, with a second traveling caravan. And it was a good thing they were there: there were strange, magically-shaped animals in this portion of their journey. Apparently there was an elf woman who resided somewhere nearby and would cause trouble for strays. The wolves took down what appeared to be a two headed and fiercely fanged buck deer, but they refused to eat it. The forest was apparently littered with corpses of that type, which only the most base creatures like ants and bugs would touch. Anything higher up or with a sense of magic about them, would just avoid them entirely.

So they kept this caravan safer than it would have been, and for that they were rewarded by the owner when they reached the second township. This was a much bigger, much older town, and had obviously been involved in some amount of rebuilding - some of the structures were fresh and new looking, while others had signs of damage or wear. Apparently a flood had come through from the north river, and coupled with an extra-warm season much of the wood rotted.

The caravan owner sent for someone while Daggerblur discussed whatever it was they were talking about. The elves kept up with him by sending, but by now, more than eight hands into their trip with the Traders, he had their language down pat. It even impressed most townsfolk - but some of them tried out their halting elf-language on the others, to comedic if not successful results...

Nicely woven cloth was presented to the elves, as a gift for their help. They were then paraded around to a tailor whose round face and big smile brightened all the elves' mood. They stood for their measurements, and she kept ticking her tongue - Daggerblur caught her reminding herself that they were not children, they were people - who were sooo skinny they should eat more! Eventually they came away from it with sweaters and socks, leggings and scarves. Daggerblur got his silken pieces dyed and wrapped them around his neck along with the soft wool.

It was here too that Burnspur got his large amount of silk dyed, a rich crimson - one which apparently matched Greyrobin's eyes... A coat of such lightness that he hardly noticed it, but it remained warm around him and made not a sound when he moved. Skytamer found herself getting strings of beads, some for her arm, some for her waist... The Trader woman who attached herself to that elf played with the elfess' hair and tied feathers, beads and such into it decoratively. Daggerblur translated her words, proclaiming her 'fit to be presented to a king' whatever a king was.

The evening they were to head south on their own journey once more, the elves decided to celebrate, and arranged another dance. The fun they'd had while applying lights and decorations to the elves at the trade gather was so catching that they had to do it at least once more - and with people who'd never had such things shown to them before.

Though the Ice Traders danced heavily and slower, they cheered and clapped with glee when the light show started. The stars shined in the summer sky and were joined by bright blue, yellow and red flashes. Skytamer worked her magic with ease here, it was dark and the sky was clear, any form of lightning would show up readily. Burnspur downright glowed with his own fireshaping, leaving a trail of warmth.

The wolves were consistantly bemused by all this behavior. The Greater wolves were more apt to bark or join in a jumping move, from the sidelines, while the normal wolves just waited it out watching their bonds. Eventually the Traders called it a night, and the elves moved on their way.

***

The climate changed dramatically from chilly to warm, sticky, when they headed south. It wasn't going to be too far now, they knew, before they'd find the swampland and the Hall of Portals. Dreamwood's paintings and directions were unerringly correct, though he'd never been here in person. A beautiful waterfall was their guide now - follow the river after the falls, into the white foggy swampland below.

The wolves were getting antsy and hunted often, though they didn't feel like eating half the time. They knew this portion of the world belonged to another pack - the Greater wolves' ancestor Fang's pack. Without having to be told, once they were in the territory marked by skulls and spears, the Greater Wolves ran off and hunted. They came back after a day, and claimed that the local tribe and pack would not bother them now. Whatever they'd done, it had been done right and quickly.

And at last, after nearly two thirds of a year travel, the hand of elves and wolves found their target. The Hall of Portals, standing darkly against the fog. Nothing grew within many strides of the building, as though plant life was aversive to the slick black marble. It looked low, menacing, but its size was deceptive. The elves were tiny compared to it. They showed only a little fear as they entered. The wolves... remained outside.

"But why?" Cried Skytamer. "Why can't you just come along through?"

*It is not our way,* Wiresight spoke to her, *no wolf goes through here voluntarily. There is only one portal there we'd ever want to go through, and that one leads to another part of this world.*

"Well, okay," Skytamer said. "But if those local wolves tear you a new one, it's not our fault you wouldn't come inside to safety."

*It is not safer inside,* the wolf chided quietly.

The foursome then walked in, no one else was there. They knew where they wanted to go, sort of... But how would they find it?

Every Portal showed somewhere new and different. Dreamwood's paintings did it justice, really, he knew the essence of a place or person and showed it in his art. Here was a deep wood, there a desert, another city, a weird moon-scape, a junkyard. Where was the place they wanted?

"Here," Greyrobin said, hushed. "Here it is," she pointed. There was a whitely bright landscape, snowcovered and serene. Above it three dragons flew in unison, down to a huge structure in a mountainside. That certainly did look like somewhere they'd wanted to go...

***

The snow was deep, but nothing they'd get bogged down in. Every Tundra elf knew how to best scale snowdrifts, they used no wide snowshoes, but they seemed to always place their feet where it was hardest packed, or iced over properly. They were small, delicate people - they wouldn't sink unless it was really powdered. They made their way toward Nidus Ryslen, where the dragons flew.

"Ainea was right, this place is fantastic!" Daggerblur said, tossing a snowball at Skytamer who ran after him shortly.

She stopped, barely, and then was bowled over by something!

Another snowball thrown by Burnspur soared over their heads, when he too was knocked to the ground by ... a dragon?

A little dragon? Icy blue, with a white mane and with holly vines and a red ribbon around his leg, stood on his chest. "Hey! Get off!"

"Found you! Found you!" called the dragon.

"You... can speak?" Skytamer said, uncovering herself from the snow she'd been pushed under by the darker-maned one.

"Of course!" The one standing on her said. He moved off, gently, "sorry! We were so excited to see you finally arrived..."

"How did you know we'd be coming? What are you?" Burnspur asked, sweeping the pine needles off his own shoulders.

"I am Paran," said the blue-maned one, "and this is my brother Hayan." They bowed in unison and the elves giggled. "We have been waiting, because we are gifts. That's our gift, here we are!"

The elves followed the slickly blue colored dragons into Ryslen, where they were greeted as guests. They had no trouble understanding the speech here, though Daggerblur was positive they weren't speaking the same language. Eventually they were to stand as Novos, waiting for bigger dragons - and they hoped it'd be the kind who didn't bowl you over in the snow...

It was a wonderful place, this Nidus Ryslen. Paran and Hayan followed one or another of the elves about and made messes every time there was snow or slush involved. There were hot drinks and exotic foods that the elves enjoyed, and traded a bit with some of the off-worlders for things that the other elves in the Holt would surely be jealous of!

And then, the hatching was called. It seemed like more people than even at the Greenriver gather, and almost all of them more tall and burly - human - than the elves.

There were several large and wonderful dragonets that hatched before any took interest in the elves, but when they did, it was a smallish type that marched toward them. One of the small eggs cracked and then fell open, releasing a shining silver hatchling. He was quick to get to his feet, much like a newborn equine. Various people watched as the hatchling pranced right up to an elf (albeit a different sort than Efellai, who seemed to know whose offspring this was and was dutifully surprised) and nuzzled into his hand.

Burnspur looked at the gem-like silver that stood before him, and then at his companions from the Tundra Hill Holt, and then back at the dragon.

"So what's his name?" Greyrobin prompted.

"Talorad." Burnspur replied absently, then said to them all brightly, "His name is Talorad!"

Talorad and he proudly strutted around, found some meat which the elf was almost inclined to eat right along with the hungry hatchling.

There were actually quite a few more hatchlings out of their shells and in their bonds' embraces, by the time another batch of Lians began peeking out of their small shells. These were slightly more conventional, but still showed the unique Flurry markings that most if not all the Ryslen Flurry dragons seemed to.

The first two of six Lians were an aquamarine and a blue topaz. They snapped at each other, and then t he topaz male chased his sister around the pile of shells and towards the smallest of the elf novos. The aquamarine ran to hide behind Greyrobin and the topaz slid to a stop before Daggerblur. The elves watched this with bemusement, but with wariness - sometimes wolves got rowdy and elves got hurt in the middle of their fights. But this was merely play, and there was no danger. The male looked at Daggerblur.

I'm Verole. He said to his chosen.

Greyrobin looked at Daggerblur, an odd expression on her face. "Her name is Nicoya."

While this was going on, another two found their own bonds, happily and noisy. The last two -- a diamond and a garnet, also siblings -- had taken their time in choosing, but still came quickly to their chosen, startling the newly-bonded Greyrobin and Dagerblur with their arrival.

I'm Baeclya. The diamond female said to Greyrobin.

My name is Kindle! The garnet male announced to Daggerblur. The two elves now had a hand of Lians between them. Where would this lead?

Well, eventually after they'd gotten their bearings and found Burnspur over by the food trays, they watched more of the hatching. Skytamer wondered would she ever get anything out of this? Or was she just a little too weird? Maybe it was that she was already bonded to a Greater wolf, but Wire wasn't even here!

But her eyes were on the smallest of the full-sized dragon eggs when one split open, tumbling a small dragoness onto the sands. Her white hide was marked with pinto-like sky blue splotches, and her nearly transparent wingsails matched. She had a secondary set of wings, narrow and feathered and somewhat alluring. The very small dragoness turned to face the elf, and her faceted eyes shone in a rainbow of adoration.

My name is Ailirath, Skytamer. That answered that question didn't it!

***

They would have to return home some time. For the moment though, there was hot cocoa and stories to tell, gossip to listen in on, and supplies to gather. They would have a very long journey ahead, but with their wolves waiting for them and their new flighted friends, the trip would certainly be more fun than the way out!