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Stormchaser: Scribbles and Doodles


Since I love to doodle and write (EQ is a great inspiration) I decided to post everything here. To please or annoy you, that you can decide for yourself. On a different note: I'm Dutch so excuse my spelling and grammar mistakes.

Imagination can make us miss the things we never had.
Memories make us see the things we can never forget. Or hear in my case. I could see the clear water of the small river, I could feel the cold brush against my skin. But I couldn’t hear the water rush around the rocks, nor the fish splash in the current. The night was turning from a warm orange fire to a calm deep blue night.

I sat cross-legged on a patch of moss, watching the silver shimmer of the fish. There was a small stack beside me but I was in no hurry to add more fish to it. I’d always liked the quiet but you don’t realize how much sounds life makes, until it doesn’t. I could still hear my lifemate call for me, still hear my cubs thoughts. But her laughter, his voice I would have to miss forever.
Tired of my sullen mood I kick of my boots and stand. If I hurry I can catch a few fish and then head back to the Holt. Rain had warned me that dark thoughts weren’t uncommon when it came to dealing with stuff like this. Well, I preferred moonlight over shadows every night, especially when it came to my moods.

Small bumps race across my skin when I step into the cold water. It rises up to my knees, soaking the lower half of my pants. Now the waiting begins, fish don’t have a sense of smell, or so I’m told. Some part of me thinks it must be true because no animal in its right mind would come close to Bearclaw’s feet. I shake the thoughts of smelly feet in exchange for a calm focus. With no sounds to distract me, standing still proves quiet easy.

Slowly the fish return, swimming around me like I’m just another rock in their way. It’s the biggest one that catches my eye. He’s about the size of my upper leg and big enough to feed at least four elves. My breathing is so slow, it’s almost non-existent. Carefully I unhook my knife from my belt. Just a little closer, I think. The moment has to be perfect or I’ll end up being soaked, with no fish. The moment I bent I know I have the right timing. The blade cuts through the water and fish with ease. The other fish have scattered but I have the prey I want.

With some difficulties I manage to get the fish on the shore. Fish can be slippery, even when they’re not moving. I clean my knife with the hem of my shirt and am about to call for my wolf when something crashes on my head. My knees give away instantly and my vision blackens.

I can’t move, I can’t see, everything hurts. My blood is pumping on high speed through my body, leaving me gasping for breath. Panic overpowers every reasonable thought before I calm down. Not even Rain will be able to heal this, my body is too damaged to move and soon my head won’t be able to tell me anything. I know they are on their way, I can feel him chase for me, but I won’t be here when he gets here.
Not by body, not by soul.
Memory can recreate the things we miss and the last thing, I remember is the laughter of my little bird.


This is awesome, Waterchaser. You show the moods so well ... the mood of the sundown, the mood of the elf and how they influence each other.

I love to get a glimpse of Rillfisher's thoughts and feelings. Her loss. Her little family. The calmness she can find in her fishing abilities ... and the satisfaction.

Everything, even the behavioir of the fish is described so lively - it's drawing a picture with words. The end is expected ... yet adds so much to what we already saw and knew. Touching - heartbreaking and surprisingling soothing. I love the last sentence.


Oh, this was very good! I like seeing more old Wolfriders. The atmosphere was great, you did very well at making us feel the quiet that is always there for her now. I'm happy that her loosing her hearing didn't affect her role within her group, but the loss is still felt keenly.

A few notes, you had a spelling mistake here; Tired of my sullen mood I kick of my booths and stand. I think you mean boots, no? Also, it would be nice with a full break between the paragraphs. Those half-paragraphs works on paper but are painful on the eye on monitors.


@Startear thank your for your feedback. I didn't notice the spelling mistake so thanks.
@Embala thank you for you comment.


We started with the ending. Now let's continue with the beginning.

With a squeal something lands on my stomach. The oomph that comes out of my mouth is loud enough to wake half the tribe, but then again so is Dewshine’s laughter when she sees my face. Treestump rolls over, still snoring.

‘What’s going on, little bird?’ I ask my voice raspy with sleep.
‘Aunt told me I could come along fishing today!’

‘What I actually meant was that we could all go fishing once your mother was awake.’ Joyleaf climbs in our little den, her bow slung over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t tell you to tackle your mother into action.’

‘But it worked.’ Dewshine answers with a smile on her face. ‘Now we can go.’
There are still traces of orange and pink in the sky. There’s still lingering heat from the sun in the air, and it’s clinging to my body. I slept under the thinnest fur we have last night and I still woke up with my hair sticking to my skin. When I sit up there’s a painful ache in my muscles that spreads to my bones.

Are you alright?

Joyleaf lock sends the question with a relaxed smile on her face, although that is more for Dewshine than anyone else.

I slept in a cramped position. I’ll be fine.

It’s easy to read her expression, she isn’t convinced that I’m fine but she doesn’t push. Dewshine doesn’t seem to notice anything is wrong and has moved over to wake up her father. Treestump grumbles before he pulls a hide over his head, and goes right back to sleep. I can’t really blame him, he’s been hunting with Bearclaw for the past three nights, with the white cold approaching in a matter of moons we need a stock.

‘Let’s give your mother some time to get dressed.’ Joyleaf plucks Dewshine away from her brother. ‘Let’s see if Cutter wants to come along, shall we.’

When they’re gone, I let myself fall back. Even after a full day of sleep I still feel like I have been up for days. Out of the blue my stomach cramps together, like it’s trying to push out last night’s dinner. I roll to my side, shuddering from the small wave of pain that rolls over my spine. Fingers brush my cheek lightly.

‘Beloved?’ Treestump’s voice is gruff but gentle as his hand brushes away strands of hair from my forehead. ‘You’re burning.’

My vision is swimming, and darkening around the edges. I’m pulled down in a current of heat and pain that flows through every vein of my body. I can hear Treestump call my name, I can hear the others rush outside the Father tree, then I hear nothing.


I really love that even super-minor, background characters are still so completely interesting. I love even more that Wendy and Richard deliberately leave them unexplored. It gives Elfquest an air of mystery, and fodder for fans to explore using our own creativity!


Thornbrake said: I love even more that Wendy and Richard deliberately leave them unexplored. It give Elfquest an air of mystery,



Rob said:

What he said


Again you got the mood so right, Stormchaser! I love how you've pictured the eager, cheerful cubling.





@Stormchaser Loved reading your work. You gave voice to a character that we all know, but never got a chance to know.


She's lovely!