Log edited with Logedit 2.6.6pl on Tue Aug 18 00:17:09 EDT 1998

Using configuration file /turquoise/homes/ammer/.logeditrc Editing out: arrive/left ANSI tf-messages Regexp stripping: Queue, Semaphore, ^Huh\? +Type, ^I don't see that Word-wrapping at 72, 0, 2 Statistics at end of log -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Quiet picks her way down the snowy rim, sliding once on the slick ice that forms on the rocks near the source of moisture.

At the center, Deep-Fires lies at the caern's center, head up and ears pricked in an alert pose. His muzzle turns towards the waterfall as the sound of sliding footsteps gives the newcomer's presence away, and he lifts his nose to catch a scent, but he makes no move to get up and investigate yet.

Quiet makes it to the bottom and shakes out her fur. She sniffs the air, then moves to the center, away from the cold fling of water near the soft roar of the falls.

Deep-Fires gets to his feet as the scent of his teacher reaches his nose, his tail down in a submissive posture. He greets the Theurge with a quiet whuff. Hello.

Quiet recognizes the galliard about the same time, moving forward to greet him the wolfish way. She splays her ears in silent pleasure.

Deep-Fires seems somber still, even a bit nervous; though he accepts the wolf-greeting quietly, he hesitates before returning it in kind. This one apologizes for leaving so abruptly last evening.

Quiet noses his ear with a cold nose, then leans back to whurf. I just worry about you, Deep-Fires. You are free to come and go as you choose.

Deep-Fires lifts his head just a bit, though the uncertainty remains and even grows a bit stronger. This one will manage. You seem as if you have much to worry about anyway. This one fights, and it is enough.

Quiet's left ear twists wryly. I will always have much to do, unless an unkind turn of life leaves me unable. It does not mean I willfully neglect those I care about. She tilts her head curiously at the galliard's phrasing at the end. It is enough for whom?

For me, the Galliard answers immediately, then pauses a moment to consider. Several such moments pass before his body slumps slightly, a tacit admission of uncertainty. Perhaps for Peacekeeper.

Quiet tilts her head now in silent question. She moves toward her student, allowing him to pull away if he doesn't wish her next to him. Speak to me of what you mean.

Deep-Fires does not pull away, his head lowering further and tail drooping. Finally, he shifts up to a form better suited to communication and reaches out, his hand seeking Quiet's ruff. "I don't know," he says after a long moment, eyes dropping to his lap. Robert..." All his muscles tense at the second mention of Robert, his eyes going a little bit cold.

Quiet leans her head on his leg, dark eyes peering into his face. Her tailtip twiches as she notes his expression, but she does not press him.

"HAve I told you about my dreams?" Dusty asks suddenly.

Quiet indicates not.

Dusty nods, then bites his lip and rubs a hand over bleary eyes; he appears to be running on very little sleep. When he speaks, his voice is sort of like the waterfall -- musical, but with an icy chill of soullessness in its center. "He tried to analyze them...I didn't really understand...but I can't think about it without having nightmares."

Quiet's ears turn again. She says gently, Nightmares are a way of dealing with horror, little by little. I had nightmares for months, after my hardest time.

Dusty shrugs. "They lessened for a while...but after talking to him, they came back...stronger than they ever were before. I just don't want to tell him that, though...I know people don't like dealing with it." He looks away from you at this.

Quiet's ears flatten a little, with an unfocused shame. It is easier to deal with it now, she says. Now that you again are my student troubled by that which is not, rather than that which is not that has swallowed my student.

Dusty doesn't look at you as he admits quietly, "Sometimes it does threaten to swallow me again. A lot."

Quiet swallows, betraying muted alarm. We must help you, then, she says. Help you become whole once more.

Dusty's posture demonstrates, in fact, involuntarily, his motions becoming a little more mechanical and his eyes going flat and cold deep within. "I am, mostly," he answers in a colder voice.

Quiet peers into Dusty's face, her alarm muting into an open concern. But are you happy, she asks gently. Don't pull away from me, Deep-Fires. Please.

Anger that isn't directed at you flickers in Dusty's eyes, a fire that licks at the ice forming in the blue-gray eyes, trying to melt it away. "No," he growls softly under his breath.

Quiet continues to watch Dusty's face. Then don't settle for part of the way, she says. You want to be happy. I want you to be happy.

Dusty is silent, shaking, all of his attention apparently directed inward for a moment.

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