Sunrise Spring Celebration

A gathering to celebrate the renewal of another season with games, food and music. A time for all elves to come together and rejoice in Gala's bounty.


Oct. 5, 2019, 11 a.m.

Hosted By

Seren Luthien


Celenia Glaenir Sylindra Gureylain Rawlin Dunlain Alethia Elendril Joran Ellyn Ragna



Volandis Mountains - Thelos - Mountainside Glade

Largesse Level



The mountainside glade has been festooned with the colors of the sunrise and surrounded by a great many flowers in pots. Those who came early were given a look upon the area at sunrise with the waterfall not so far off in the distance as a backdrop. As soon as the first rays hit the celebration area everything began and even now it continues. Food is set out upon tables that consists of easy things to take part of without need of a plate. Finger foods and so forth made mostly from last years stores in hopes that the coming year will be just as plentiful as the last.

A maypole has been erected center with colorful ribbons hanging and moving in the wind, waiting for the call to song and dance to see it woven together by willing hands. Music plays on string and wind instruments to fill the air with a joyous welcome. Small little picnic areas are set up for people to rest and enjoy. Other activities are planned but for now it allows others to mix and mingle.

Seren stands to the side, dressed in the sunset colored dress to Loran, the soft swell of her stomach far more obvious now as time has marched on. She wears a wreath of flowers in her white gold hair left loose about her shoulders.

Rawlin gets a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Rawlin gets a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Seren takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip.

Seren puts a Rylanth violet spring tulip in a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Celenia takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Gureylain takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Celenia takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Gureylain takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Malice, a lithe and deadly Krilkar, Jiro, ever vigilant condor arrive, following Sylindra.

Celenia walks around, smiling gently. She smiles warmer to Seren, wishing her quiet congratulations, before moving to get some food. Nibbling on a breakfast cake of some stripe, she wanders around, looking at everything. She's been here since predawn, but sunrise was so pretty she's hesitant to leave.

Glaenir quietly presses the face of his helmet, and removes it with a soft click. Once the shimmering helm is attached firmly to his belt, Glaenir offers a greeting bow to those present before he steps away to a less populated corner so he can watch the waterfall.

Hurrying over to Seren with a few last-minute things, Luthien's billowing pink dress sweeps the ground. Her little feet are bare, as she rushes out of Gala's shrine. "Oh Lady Elder you're looking beautiful!" she says, dimpling as she smiles at the older woman, especially eyeing her stomach. "It's it simply a gorgeous day? Where do you want these?"

Mitzi, a mischievous little ice elemental arrives, following Dunlain.

The Warlord climbed up to the mountain glade, her path illuminated by the soft lights of dawn. As she finally arrives, coming in from the first rays of the rising sun wash around her, her krilkar, and her condor, silluheting them against the warm pink and gold lights of a new sunrise.

Celenia earns a smile, her head dipping in quiet greeting as those who have come to partake continue to mill about, "Thank you for coming," she utters to the Duindar before her gaze slips to Glaenir, her hand lifting to offer him a welcome as well though he slips away to watch the waterfall. Her attention is quickly arrested as Luthien heads her way, the Lorandi barefoot as well as her smile splits and white teeth gleam, "It is a wonderful day and don't you looke like spring personified. OH those, I have a box and area set up if you wish to add to the rest of them," she points to the larkspur chest which holds the celebrations tokens for people to take.

"Thank you for your help, you have been a blessing," she says and adds, "It is a day to celebrate beyond just spring." Her attention slips to the newest arrival. "Warlord, be welcome. Please take a crown and tulip."

Dunlain takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Dunlain takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Glaenir takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Glaenir takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Celenia smiles warmly to Seren as she passes by. "Thank you for hosting," she replies, before drifting toward the waterfall in silence.

Dahsk, a black wolf arrives, following Alethia.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: Music from string and wind instruments floats through the air in a beautiful morning on the mountain glade. Food is set out for easy access and drinks along with a sparkling fresh cider are available. There is pole set center, festooned with colorful ribbons to be wound about it. A chest and a section of potted tulips are free for the taking.

((take 1-crown from larkspur and take 1-tulip from larkspur))

Thanks to the good fortune of Hatharal, Gureylain has slept. A lot. And the additional aid of Frey was a help so that as he enters the glade he only looks tired and lined rather than like something that tried to make out with a drunk, ornery, krilkar.

He's back in his leathers again, cloaked and hooded against the sun, stopping to take a crown and tulip as he makes his way along - the usual sight of his cat Vana replaced by Toot riding and singing on the back of the young tiger that has bonded with the old ranger.

Rawlin walks around the area, preferring to let Seren handle her duties for the time being. He has a tulip in one hand and the other is busy placing the crown of roses atop his brow, adjusting it this way and that until it's just slightly crooked. "What do you think, Chubbles?" The bulldog stares up at him and is quiet. The High Priest stares back a moment before sighing and pulling a treat out of a pouch and tossing it down to the animal. Chubbles happily munches on his treat.

Dunlain is still in the process of getting dressed, it would seem, as he's only just pulling on his festive leather doublet. A mirror to the sunrise of the event as its motif of a sunset makes him easy to spot in the early light. He finds a crown and tulip and starts looking around the glade for a certain Galan elder.

Alethia makes her way quietly into the glade, and bends to pick up a crown and flower as well. Her long hair is unbound and coils in dark gold down her back. A little similarly to Gureylain, she seems tired but calm.

Alethia takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Alethia takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

"Hello Elder Seren," the Warlord greets. "Thank you for holding this event, it's a beautiful setting." She takes a crown and a blossom, then helps herself to some breakfast. Actually, a lot of breakfast, devouring savoury breakfast pies like it's going out of style, then switching to sweet ones, and also plenty of fruits and cheeses. It seems those warrior's muscles require quite a bit of fuel.

Sylindra takes a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Sylindra takes a Rylanth violet spring tulip from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

"Righto, I'll just tuck these in here," says Luthien, heading to the chest and adding the rest of the crowns to it. She sees Alethia right away and gives her cousin a bright smile, once her arms are empty, and heads over to the Faenor woman. "Good morning!" she says brightly. "Doesn't it smell glorious? I bet there'll be rain tonight but beautiful all day today. Lady Seren couldn't have ordered a nicer day." She glances around and spies the tall Thalerith and waves him over excitedly. "Hey Dunlain!" she calls, in a loud voice that's possibly a surprising volume. She trains wolves, after all. Sometimes you gotta be loud.

Celenia spots Gureylain and heads over that way, smiling gently. "Hey, Gurey," she says with warmth. "How have you been?" She smiles down at his various companions with affection.

Alethia looks like she might blow over, kind of like if she were a plant and Luthien were a hurricane. She smiles at her cousin, a little shy but warm, "It does smell amazing, yes. You have a good turnout."

"WE are lucky to have such a lovely day and with good tidings to go with it, I hope you enjoy yourself," Seren says to Sylindra, a smile curling her lips before her attention slips to Rawlin, watching him fuss over his crown which only serves to make her smile a bit more. She rests her hand once more upon the swell of hers tomach s she nods to Luthien, watching her call over Dunlain. "Good Spring to you," she greets him and then glances up at Gurey and Alethia, lifting her hand in greeting before she herself moves to find a glass of water for herself.

Now that Chubbles has his treat, Rawlin slowly makes his way over to the food tables and starts grabbing some of the breakfast pastries... not as many as Sylindra, but still quite a few of them. He's taking a bite of one when he hears a loud voice calls up, which causes him to look up. Some of the pastries filling falls out and Chubbles is quick to clean it up.

Alethia lifts a hand gently to acknowledge Seren as well, her amber eyes warmer than usual, shy instead of reserved. Her attention is drawn to a stately bulldog nearby, as Chubbles claims breakfast windfalls. Alethia's lips press together so she looks more serious. "It is a good day. Hello High Priest."

"Celenia, my friend." catching Seren's raised hand and smiling to her with the same - to Cel, he offers open arms; the Old Wolf is a hugger still. "I'm better, getting better. How have you been?" offering her his faint smile in addition of a promise of a warm hug if she wished.

Dunlain notes where the call came from and politely makes his way over in that direction. Gently excusing himself as he passes through small clumps of other elves, when he finally approaches Luthien he gives her a warm smile before he's greeted and he looks to Seren. "Good Spring to you as well." then he looks back to Luthien, "Good morning, this all looks amazing. Did you see the crowns? They're like little bursts of sunshine."

Celenia hugs Gureylain tightly. "I'm glad." She looks up at him. "I've been well enough, thank you, my friend. What have you been up to? You look tired." There is concern in green eyes over the Old Wolf's appearance.

Luthien touches her crown and winks at Dunlain. "Who do you think is wearing the first-type?" she asks. "I made it because it matches the pink dress. You like it on? I think it's great. Thank you for it," she says, and tippytoes to kiss his cheek. She then says, "Alethia do you know Dunlain? You will know him, if you don't," she says, shuffling her feet slightly. Then she gets a signal from Seren and says, "Hang on guys I'll be right back. Right back!"

"I-" too slow, Alethia blinks as Luthien flits off like a bright bird. She's left blinking at Dunlain. "Yes, we've met once. Hello."

Dunlain nods as he looks to Alethia, "Hello again. How are things?"

Luthien climbs up onto a rock, the soft pink dress she wears seeming to float about her as she stands, for once, tall.

"It's so nice to see everyone here to celebrate another season of growth and renewed beginnings. Praises be to Gala, who restores and beautifies the world each spring. The cycles of growth and flourishing, harvest and fallow are all important parts of life here in Aarandor, and they can teach us what we need to strive for in our own lives. Spring is the season of growth. Each one of us has the power to nourish new life - whether it be a little seedling, like these," she says, gesturing to the small plants available, "or growing an orchard, caring for a wolf or cat or robin, or starting a new life with a beloved partner. We can each take part in Gala's miracle of life. When we nurture, we provide care, like the trees overhead provide us shade from the sun. We're not only nourishing, we're helping others flourish, plants and birds and animals and elves alike. Gala wants us to love one another, and love ourselves. Life is a beautiful gift! Take part in the games that Lady Elder Seren has so kindly organized, make new friends, kiss a loved one. Share in the bounty of Her springtime, and give thanks to Gala for all that is good!"

Luthien scrambles down from the chair, blows a kiss to the sky, and enthusiastically calls out, "Thanks be to Gala!"

Celenia echoes Luthien quietly but earnestly, a bright "Thanks be to Gala!" coming from her lips before she looks back at Gureylain.

Giving a nod in Luthien's direction when she is begin bubbly with everyone, she smiles a bit and Seren moves over towards Rawlin, pausing to touch his arm before lifting her glass of water and sipping from it. Chubbles gets a look before she bends carefully and begins to rub and scratch at the dogs head, "Spoiled," she says before rising slowly.

"Are you going to participate in the maypole dance? Or perhaps the three legged race? I will have to refrain from the race I think," she quiets as Luthien speaks, the Rylanth smiling as she nods and then claps her hands. "To Gala."

Alethia grins at her cousin, a quick flash of unguarded pride, and echoes "Praise be to Gala."

Tucking his crown onto his rather crowded brow, Gureylain looks out and about the glade, silencing when Luthien speaks. Bowing his head to the prayer and intoning, "Thanks be to Gala" before turning his attention to Celenia again,
"The vigil over Hatharal, it ended in joy - but it was long... worthwhile but exhausting."

Asha, The White Lion arrives, following Elendril.

Dunlain also blows a kiss to the sky and states firmly, "Thanks be to Gala."

Celenia nods, and pats Gureylain's shoulder. "I don't believe I've met Hatharal, but I'm glad we didn't lose him." She nods again, and then looks around. "Do you need to circulate or rest? I'm happy to get you a drink or something," she says. "You worked hard. I'm grateful, regardless of knowing Hatheral or not," she murmurs.

Luthien nods at everyone as they echo the praise, meeting eyes and offering individual smiles. Then she makes her way back to Alethia and Dunlain, and wiggles her little bare feet in the grass. "New grass. Nothing like it," she says. She lowers her voice and says something quietly.

Alethia glances up, nodding slightly as she spots Joran and Elendril, before turning her attention to Luthien and Dunlain again.

As the others settle in after Luthien's praise to Gala, Seren clears her throat and lifts her voice. "Thank you all for attending, our first even for the day if you wish is the three legged race. Find your partner for this and we will provide the wraps," she lifts silk ties strips and waves them in the air. "We will start at this flagged line over here and just beyond," she points down the way towards the end. "It will end there. Participants come and join me here so we can start the race." She waits off to the side to help those who need the aid in readying.

She glances to Luthien and Dunlain, "Hurry you two, come one." She makes to pointing at them as the barefooted Elder winks.

((Four rounds of rolling. Cumulative rolls for pairs. The highest overall at the end wins. We will be rolling Dex+applicable skill - if you can justify it, we will take it!))

Glaenir blinked in confusion while his gaze broke free from the captivating visage of the waterfall. It seems he was lost in thought, and the rousing speech brought his senses back where they belonged. His emerald hues narrow on Luthien while they speak atop the rock, and by the time they finish Glaenir finds himself smiling. Quiet steps lead him to a nearby offering table, closer to the crowd. "To Gala," he offers, just like everyone else, and finds himself taking hold of a glass of beverage from the offering table. His steps carry him back to his original spot, a little bit away from the crowd, where he remains and continues to watch the event unfold.

Shaking his head, Gureylain rests his hand on Celenia's arm, squeezing gently, looking again at Luthien before his attention turns to the red head at his side, "Shall we behave like children then?" tipping a wink and motioning towards the race start.

Celenia laughs. "I'm not sure I'd be a good partner!" she says cheerfully. "But I'm okay with falling if you are." Her seafoam green eyes sparkle in amusement.

it's been a long time since Elendril has felt many reasons to celebrate. The month of sitting vigil had bowed her shoulders and her spirit. But when you witness the sparkle of a miracle with your own eyes, your perspectives change. She's slept and bathed, and she's had a few good meals. And when she wanders in hand-in-hand with Joran to give thanks for renewal of seasons it's also a renewal of spirits for her, too. A white lion cub the size of a large house can bounces after them, pouncing at bugs and stalking through foliage as he plays and frolics. They get there just in time to hear Seren call out for racers, and she laughs, tugging on the Thalerith's hand. "Oh, come on, let's. It will be practice for other challenges some day?"

Dunlain blinks at the annoucement and then grabs Luthien's hand so that they can run along as one of the first pairs to join the race. "Alrighty, we're doing this... but, we gotta work together on this." he smiles at her, "If I'm off stride, just tell me, kay?"

"Out in the desert we are grateful for every hardy bit of life that manages to survive in the wastes, every scrap of plant that we can coax into growing against the harshness of sun and sand. Praise be to Gala, that life can survive and nurish us even in such forbiding conditions," the Warlord declares loudly. "The Thalerith's prayers are raised to Goddess of Restoration, that this bring with it new life."

Luthien nods to Alethia, murmurs something, then grabs Dunlain's hand and runs with him. "Course," she says. "Worst case scenario you can just carry me along! Remember my legs are like, half yours...." she adds, then laughs.

Joran trails toward the Glade hand in hand with Elendril, spotting Alethia's faint gesture through the milling crowds and bobbing a light nod of his own. The Thalerith seems to have noted Gureylain and heard a question posed to someone else, stifling a low chuckle at something about it, before offering a salute and a dip of his head in Sylindra's direction.

"If you wish to, we will make something work.", Joran concedes to Elendril with a sidelong glance and a mild smile, far shoulder from her hiking into a shrug.

Rawlin's mouth is too full to offer praises to Gala. Maybe she can forgive him later. Swallowing down another pastry, he looks around and blinks. "What are we doing?" He watches people pair up and he blinks and starts to look around. Spotting Glaenir, he walks over to the elf. "Did you want to participate? I can't promise to be much of a partner, but I did bring a pastry." He offers it to the other.

Alethia lifts a pale hand and calls out, laughing, to Luthien and Dunlain, "Don't fall!"

Dunlain laughs heartily for no apparent reason and then turns to wink back at Alethia, stating, "We've got this!"

Glaenir is caught in the middle of his drink when Rawlin offers the unthinkable. A single brow rises, and he stares blankly, as if pondering something, maybe a life and death situation. A ponderous look at his drink and then at Rawlin later, Glaenir sets down his glass and nods seriously, "Why not? You only live once nowadays."

Seren watches as people pair off, her smile growing as she moves towards each as they approach and helps to tie them together as best she can. One at thigh, one at calf and then moving on to the next. Elendril and Joran get a nod as she aids, "Good luck to you both!" She offers them before finding the next couple, laughing a bit to herself. "This is going to be delightful." She murmurs and wishes Luthien and Dunlain luck and finally Gureylain and Celenia. "You both...good luck." She remarks.

She waits to see if another only to watch as Rawlin approacheas Glaenir. A smile awaits them as they get near and will help them tie their legs together.

Stepping back she waits at the one end with them and lifts her hand up. "Okay! Racers! Ready on your marks, get set...go!"

Her mezzo voice lifts brightly to be heard as she drops her hand to signal their start.

Joran checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 22 higher.

Elendril checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 20 higher.

Luthien checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

Dunlain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Elendril squeezes Joran's hand when he agrees to dive into a few moments of frivolous fun. "What's the worst thing that can happen?" And then she ponders. "Well, other than tripping over Asha... Estril knows he'll think it's a game meant just for him..." She waves to Seren in greeting as the coordinating elf offers her nod and her wish of luck. Their legs are tied together and the smaller Lorandi nestles in close against the Thalerith's side, her arms wrapping his waist as she combines her shields for balance with his physicality to team up as the race begins.

Celenia checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 9 higher.

Rawlin checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 3 higher.

Alethia takes the opportunity to eat a few breakfast pastries, watching this spectacle as she munches.

Glaenir checked dexterity + fortitude at difficulty 15, rolling 22 higher.

Laughing as he takes his place and settles in as he and Cel's legs are bound together and sets off with her, one arm around her waist, and giving a nod to Seren. "Thank you, sweet cousin." and once she is ready he sets out. Feline grace carrying him foward with her, attempting to aid her in keeping her balance as much as moving swiftly.

Sylindra sits on the side to watch the three legged race, eating a delightful cherry pie and drinking a delicious rice drink, while she cheers Elendril and Joran on.

Celenia uses her skills in abjuration to keep herself standing while Gureylain really does the hard work, her arm wrapping around his waist. "I think I've got this!" she says cheerfully.

"Okay Dunlain," says Luthien as she ties their ankles together. "Let's start with the feet that are tied together, and then move to the other foot. Yeah?" asks Luthien. But. When it's time to start, does she remember this? Or does she stutter and meep and start on the other foot, which works just about as you'd expect, as she grabs Dunlain's shirt with flaily hands, trying not to fall? If you picked option B, you'd be right.

Joran offers a dip of a nod in acknowledging appreciation to Seren, before a faint grin at Elendril's remark. He nudges off his boots and tugs away bland grey socks, while mentioning aside to the pale Lorandi he's now bound to, with a hand snaking around her back to steady against her hip. "I will set our pacing, you can adjust balance with shielding if you start feeling we are about to topple." He then exhales a low puff of breath, weight shifting onto the balls of his bare feet, and lowering a bit onto bended knees to better adjust the center of his gravity closer to hers to prepare for the start.

Rawlin gets set up with Glaenir and lets out a sigh. "I'm really not the most physically fit for this, but my wife will get a kick out of this. The sacrifices we make, you know?" He grins a little at that and prepares himself to go forward. Glaneir is clearly the more capable of the two, and not wanting to drag his partner down, he calls upon his varne crystal to unleashe varying shields of pink, gold, and summer yellow hues to help keep him from falling and being dragged along like a sack of potatoes.

"That's a good strategy... just don't forget while we're in the thick of it." Dunlain states, then it's go time... and his partner does the opposite of what he'd just said. In the process of keeping them running, he's also now trying to literally carry Luthien along with him. Thankfully she's small but the dress she wears isn't designed for this sort of activity and it's not easy keeping her stable.

Alethia leans over to murmur something to Sylindra, as they watch the racers.

Glaenir loosely checks to make sure the rope is tied in securely at their legs, and then assumes a pose. Before beginning to haul ass and lumber through this ordeal, Gleanir gives an affirming nod to Rawlin, full of determination, as if to say that he won't let them down, if they don't let him down. A single, iron clad fist rises for a fistbump before they begin leaping, "Let's not get embarrassed, that's all that matters."

There is a laugh from Seren as they all start off and the very clear way that everyone tries to adapt makes her grin. She claps for them all and begins walking along the side of the raceway so she can watch and get to the end for them. As there are some misshaps and struggles, everyone is still moving forward with Elendril and Joran in the lead with Glaenir and Rawlin just ahead of Gureylain and Celenia. Bringin up the rear with a beautiful presence are Luthien and Dunlain.

Joran checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 42 higher.

Elendril checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 17 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Dunlain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 13 higher.

Luthien checked dexterity + ride at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Celenia checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Glaenir checked dexterity + fortitude at difficulty 15, rolling 15 higher.

Rawlin checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Dunlain ducks down a moment and wraps an arm around Luthien's backside, hefting her up enough so that she's no longer part of the equation when it comes to the running part. "Just hold on tight and keep your dress wings folded down best you can, 'kay love?" then he pushes on running.

It is clear to Luthien that the height difference is something that's going to be insurmountable. She looks up at Dunlain as he talks and lifts her, then wraps her arms tightly around his neck, hanging from him like a happy redheaded monkey in a tree. "Alright honey we gotta catch up!" she says.

Elendril isn't the most physically talented elf, but she trusts in the strength and skills of the Thalerith beside her. With the way their bodies fit in sync, and the strength of their arms around one another, she lets him lead the rhythm and pace of their matched steps. In many ways, it's like the meditative states they've been practicing with breath in tandem to study the lifewell, merely with legs rather than lungs. And on the moments when her shorter legs mis-match to his longer, her connection to the lifewell shields them from wobbles, keeping them buffeted together in gentle winds that encourage and push them along.

There's an easy rhythm that Joran falls into as he and Elendril shift into motion, as if the pair is not only comfortable with each other but capable of fully trusting in the actions of their partner. It probably doesn't hurt that the big thalerith is built like a dark sandcat and is darting off into a loping stride where he's half-carrying Elendril through the bounding upsteps. Even if it is a race, his attention's completely boiled away of anything beyond Elendril and the path ahead of them.

Alethia watches the couples, and as she feeds some breakfast snax to the wolf at her side, she murmurs in a slightly off-put way, "What do they feed the warriors in Nasherat?"

Celenia is quick enough to use abjuration to keep herself up, but definitely isn't the most physically robust of elves. She manages, though, to at least keep in rhythm, and if she falters she is gently kept up by the buffering winds of the lifewell, which is a boon.

The Old Wolf of Tenlindil is laughing as he and Cel do their best to keep one another from falling, he's lost track of where they are in the race, letting Celenia's winds keep him aloft, looking like a big shifting green cloud with a crown on due to it.

Rawlin still focuses on using his abjuration magics, such as they are, to keep him from falling and weighing Glaneir down. "We're not doing so badly, just keep going. One step at a time." He grits his teeth and keeps forging ahead. Off to the side, Chubbles has managed to knock a few pastries onto the ground and the dog is having himself a feast while everyone is distracted.

Glaenir feels a stinging sensation at his calves just trying to keep up with Rawlin's, albeit a bit slow, but still larger steps. Curses for being so short, Glaenir still wasn't going to give up. His steps carry him forward, one springy, ungraceful step at a time, even if it meant keeping second place. "Gosh, darnit, at least let's make your wife proud! I want to impress that merchants daughter too!" Despite the beads of sweat forming at the corners of his temple, his gaze remains unwavering, set upon the finish line in the distance. Each controlled breath draws them closer to their goal!

Dark sandcat indeed! Joran is quickly leading the pair to victory and with Elendril's attempts to keep them from falling over the two have taken quite the lead on the three other pairs. Seren is having trouble keeping up with them on her own two feet in an effort to reach the finish line before they do. Blame it on the twins. About midway down the field is Gleanir and Rawlin, the wildcard pair that seems to be really pulling their own and this is who the Elder shouts for, cheering her husband on . Nearly next to each other are Luthien with Dunlain - who comes up with a clever idea and Gureylain and Celenia, the old wolf tired from his vigil is making a splendid showing with his partner.

Joran checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Glaenir checked dexterity + fortitude at difficulty 15, rolling 8 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 10 higher.

Celenia checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 7 higher.

Elendril checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 39 higher. Elendril rolled a critical!

Dunlain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 18 higher.

Luthien checked dexterity + ride at difficulty 15, rolling 23 higher.

Rawlin checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 5 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 15, rolling 39 higher.

While Joran may have set the pace ahead of the pack, in the process his shortened stride fell away, causing imbalance in stride with Elendril. The pair was steadied enough to not risk falling, but the flagging in their rapid three-legged dash becomes much more evident, the Thalerith no longer capable of maintaining the blistering barefoot bolt - until Elendril begins padding her own steps with clever little bursts of abjurative wind shields, leveling out the pair's lopsided stride all the way through to the finish line.

Technically, Elendril and Joran are not the first to cross the finish line. Asha wins the race on four legs rather than three. The cub isn't sure why they're all running and bouncing, but he's excited to be a part of things, jumping and tumbling around as he goes back and forth between all of the pairs. Joran slows, and Elendril compensates, her connection to the lifewell seeming almost effortless instinct with the way that winds steady their body and the ground even rises to meet mis-steps to place them exactly where they need to be. The worst part of leading the pack, she misses out all of the amazing displays of color, light, skill, and creativity behind her as she and the Thalerith make it across the line.

Celenia keeps herself upright, laughing, enjoying the run on this beautiful Spring morning. She doesn't care that they lost--just that they're having fun.

Now they're hurrying! Luthien lets one arm go around Dunlain's neck but holds on very tightly with the other. She floats one wing of her dress out to the side as though it were a sail, flying through the air. "You're doing great babe keep going!" she says, a little too excited and maybe a little too loud.

Glaenir slips, but only for a brief moment before collecting himself thanks to Rawlin's shoulder. He suspects, internally, that this might be because he just caught a glimpse of the duo in front of them galloping with immense fervor towards the finish line, and making it! Curses! And others seem to be getting closer at an alarming pace too! A passing image of an elven beauty passes through Glaenir's mind, and he finds himself whispering, "This must be my punishment for skipping leg day!"

Sylindra cheers loudly as Joran and Elendril win the race, "You go kids! Show them the power of your love!"

Dunlain laughs softly and pushes himself forward as best as his legs will take him. He's just trying to focus on breathing, and not falling, and not letting her fall, and boy there's a lot to keep track of for this celebratory race.

Rawlin laughs at Glaenir's comment even as the two continue onward. "Perhaps... perhaps this will inspire you to work harder at ensuring you keep doing leg day each week. Or maybe it will inspire me to start." He laughs again, shaking his head. "Oh yes, my wife would like that wouldn't she. I can see it now, all part of her grand scheme."

Alethia claps for all the runners as they cross the finish line in various conditions and configurations. At Luthien's shout, she presses her lips together, maybe to keep from laughing. "Congratulations, Joran and Lady Elendril."

Gureylain lopes along with Cel, looking brighter than he has in days, cheeks flushed and actually with a broad laughing smile on his face as his cloak blows out behind him... He even, suddenly, lengthens out his stride, shifting with Celenia to keep her upright while she concentrates

With quit ethe lead Elendril and Joran cross the finish line with a flourish and without even am misstep as their compatriots are all switching postiions on occasion. Suddenly Luthien and Dunlain, once in the rear take up the place in second, going so far as to pass up Rawlin and Glaenir who now lag in third and bringing up the last position are Gureylain and Celenia but everyone is having their moments so the next few places - anyone's game.

Glaenir checked dexterity + fortitude at difficulty 15, rolling 7 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Celenia checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 2 lower.

Dunlain checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Rawlin checked dexterity + abjuration at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Luthien checked dexterity + ride at difficulty 15, rolling 19 higher.

Bjornolf, a massive Alpha male Faenor wolf arrives, following Ellyn.

Gods above, there are so many things to remember when running. 'Did I breathe?' there's a pause, and then a deep sudden inhale as breathing happens on its own. His legs are a strange mixture of lead and gelatine and he huffs as he moves across the finish line, near ready to collapse, and sets Luthien down as gently as he can manage.

Riding her fiance works great for Luthien! "C'mon Dunlain, C'mon..." she says, urging in her voice. She swings her arm up so she's able to pat his shoulder excitedly as they get closer and closer to the finish line, and then cheers! "You win babe! Second!" she says. "You did it!" She's set down gently and does a happy little excited spin.

Joran raises a fist and dips a nod in the direction of the Warlord at the call over, a faintly winded but broad grin splayed across his features, before he dips a nod toward Alethia. His bright viridian gaze flits to Elendril, head angling closer and pressing a hearty, smacking kiss to her lips. "Wonderful work there, my light.", he says, as he rocks his hip against the Lorandi he's been bound to.

Seeming warmly content in the moment's respite, the Flame Seer looks between the tumbling white lion cub near their feet to the other pairs beginning to cross the line.

Glaenir slips, yet again! A breeze runs past him and Rawlin, just at the edge of the finish line. One foot in front of the other, and all Glaenir saw was Luthien and Dunlain run past before his gaze drifted to the rapidly approaching ground. Glaenir would have likely managed to only stumble and not fall, but apparently his partner in crime had the same idea as him. Rawlin's display of physical prowess would have given him a heart attack, had they not passed the finish line in the most unflattering way possible, but passed nonetheless.

"Go Dunlain!" Sylindra cheers pumping her first in the air, "First and second place! Thalerith strong!"

The winds around them fail, falter, and the counter balance he was utilizing is lost. Gureylain lets out a 'WOOP!' as he finds himself suddenly poleaxing and twisting as he goes to cushion Celenia with himself as they go down at the rear of the pack... Ironically howling laughter with his nickname.

whisper Alethia :grins at her, "His sister Deanna too! You should meet her some time, charm for days. Just be careful she doesn't charm you off your clothes."

Celenia laughs as well, her laughter cheerful and loud. "Oh my goodness, Gureylain, I'm sorry!" But she can't stop laughing. "Are you hurt?"

Seren is at the end clapping for each of the couples as they cross. She can not help but laugh a little at the minor misfortunes of those tied together by one leg. She chuckles even at Gureylain and Celenia, giving them both a nod of her head when they dramatically cross the finish line. Then Rawlin does however she steps closer, waddles a bit even so that she can help untie he and Glaenir. "Well done, my heart," she says to Rawlin with a quip.
Her nose wrinkles up and she cheers for them all. "Well done participants. Our winners are Lady Elendril and Flame Seer Joran. Such an amazing feet of alacrity!" She claps again and then chuckles out. "Soon we will have a ring toss to see who has the best and and finish up with our maypole dancing!."

Sylindra's words flush Elendril's freckled cheeks, or maybe they flush just from the run. But they also make her laugh, leaving her feeling all the happier. Joran's kiss catches her by surprise, and they're both lucky that when her foot pops, it's NOT the foot tied to his, letting his strength hold them balanced as that sudden kiss is smacked against her laughing mouth. "It was entirely you, beloved," she promises in reply to his words. And then she turns her body, twisting so she can watch the others coming in behind them.

Rawlin collapses to his knees once the race is over, breaths coming heavy. He pats Glaenir on the shoulder. "Well done, friend. We didn't win, but we still had a good showing... something for us both to take a measure of pride I think. At least we didn't fall down." He laughs and glances over to Seren as she approaches. "Thank you, beloved. Though I think I am going to rest for a while. This took a lot out of me."

Sitting up with Celenia, patting her shoulder and even a kiss on the cheek as he gets his bearings, Gureylain nods. "I am perfectly fine, Celenia. That was fun - even the fall. I've not done something silly in some time, I appreciate your willingness to act the fool with me." beaming as he moves to undue their leg binding.

Glaenir offers a bow of his head at Seren for helping untie them, and quietly begins to pat down his clothes and armor to dispatch the dust off of his person. "Well, no harm done 'cept a bruise or two." Glaenir offers a smile at Rawlin after that pat, and excuses himself so the two lovebirds can have a moment of solitude after that ordeal. "I'm going to take a few shots so I can be properly smashed for the ring tossing competition. It was an honor to roll and tumble with you."

Luthien isn't even tired at all! What a shocker. "C'mon Dunlain, let's go get you a drink," she says, and grins at Seren as she tugs him past the other Elder. She smiles at the others in attendance too as she finds muffins. Ooh.

Celenia grins at Gureylain. "I never mind acting a fool with friends around." She lets them untie the bindings, and then offers him a hand up after she stands. "You seem like you needed it, anyway."

With the promise of spring on its way, life and love has blossomed all about Thelos and within the mountainside glade itself. Yet the chilled whispers of winter still try and regain their grip. Moss of the ground below where the buds of flowers bloom ripple beneath the long silvers skirts of a sleek and slender figure. Those tiny buds spring back up to be eaten by the massive paws and stalk of the beast that flows in Ellyn's wake.

Luthien is overheard praising Seren: What a great spring celebration!

"If you must. This just proves we need to take hikes together more often, Rawlin," she says, giving him a smirk as she adjusts the dress around the swell of her stomach, "Especially when the twins are here," she retorts further, her finger lifting to tick the air before she grins at Glaenir, "I am glad you saw my husband safely across the finish line, be ready for the ring toss." She glances up at Luthien and can not help but laugh for her, "Well done!" It is then that she notes Celenia and Gureylain, clapping for them. "Cousin, are you well?" she asks of Gurey and then winks at him, sure that he will be okay she turns about.

"The ring toss is over this way!" She declares where an array of colorful glasses are waiting for everyone so that they can be thrown at from all sides. Vines have been dried and woven together to form the circles and there she waits, motionign particpants over to join when read.

Alethia nods to Ellyn respectfully when she sees her, and even smiles. Then she turns to Sylindra, "I should go. Enjoy the rest of the celebration."

A messenger comes for Luthien and she listens, and nods. She whispers something to Dunlain then heads into the Galan shrine.

Idril, a large Faenor snow wolf, Honey, the ear cozy wearing bunny, Trixie, a playful little ice elemental leave, following Luthien.

Celenia is overheard praising Seren: What a lovely way to ring in the Springtime!

Elendril and Joran get themselves untied, but they only disentangle enough to be still holding hands. They wander towards food and drink with everyone else. Asha is doing the same, begging for scraps and handouts from anyone that finds him cute enough to give in. Elendril squeezes Joran's hand and then asks him, "Would you grab us drinks, my dearheart? I need to speak with someone for a moment, then will be back." And with one more squeeze of Joran's hand, she lets go of her Thalerith and takes a step in Gureylain and Seren's direction.

Gureylain helps Celenia to her feet as he goes, nodding to Seren as she inquires, while giving Celenia a nod on her exit. "I am fine, Sweet Seren." Gurey grins and looks to the notation of a ring toss. Flinging things! Something he is good at! Maybe! We'll see! So he is up again and headed for the ring toss.

Joran gives a soft nod and a mild smile to Elendril at her parting request, though it almost falters as he sees the direction the Palinnar is headed. A tick of his brows and a click of his tongue to himself follow instead of words, and then the Thalerith is ambling off in search of refreshments for two - three, if the lion cub has its way.

Glaenir downs his glass in a single gulp, and leaves it on the table. His steps carry him over to the ring toss competition. "Alright, let's see how badly I can fail this."

Mitzi, a mischievous little ice elemental leaves, following Dunlain.

Turned away from Joran, Elendril misses the Thalerith's expression, though she wouldn't likely be surprised if she had noticed. She catches up with the Old Wolf near where the ring toss is set up, and her voice is pitched low as she speaks to him, her lips moving briefly though her voice doesn't carry far.

Seren stands at one side as she watches everyone step up who will participate, her smile growin g as she looks from Elendril to Sylindra and then watches as Gureylain and Glaenir make their presences known. "It seems we have takers. We will have three rounds of tosses, those who have the most will then face one another to see who wins! Any questions?" she waits for them and then allows room as she motions for them to pick up a ring each, "Here we go, please toss your ring!"

She motions for them to begin, clapping her hands together glad to watch as Marwen her maid brings her some tea, sipping from it so that she can keep and eye on the score for the group.

Glaenir checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Gureylain checked perception + archery at difficulty 15, rolling 32 higher.

Elendril checked intellect + abjuration at difficulty 20, rolling 19 higher.

Sylindra checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 31 higher.

Something the Old Wolf is practically built for. One ring is picked up first, tucked between thumb and forefinger and he sights by eye. Gureylain's grin is predatory again as he snaps his wrist sending his ring whirling for the 'targets' his left hand flexed and up as if holding his bow now. It's a clean throw as well, the missile making a hissing sound as it passes through the air.

The Warlord is not a ranged combatant, but she figures an underhand toss of a ring isn't much different from a thrust of a spear. They are both similar motions requiring accuracy and precision at range, the hard part is letting go at the right moment.

Ellyn gets a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Glaenir takes a ring with a grin, and gazes over his shoulder to the spectators. His confident expression is followed by him turning and bowing courteously, and then rising as he tosses the ring over his shoulder, sure of his skill that he can get the ring to hit in a single throw without even looking! Of course, that just might be the alcohol speaking, as the telltale sound of something most definetly hitting the ground sends shivers down his spine. Glaenir simply stares forward, afraid to look back.

Elendril's focus stays on Gureylain, waiting on a reply from the Old Wolf even as Seren outlines how the toss will be run. She picks up a ring, just grabbing one at random. She slips it around her wrist like a bracelet. She watches Gureylain throw his ring, and as he ignores her entirely she sighs, turning away as her shoulders slump. She then watches the Warlord's skilled throw, too. Finally, she turns her attention to the post, her gaze narrowing as she considers the mathematics of angles and arcs, measuring out the strength and flicks that would be needed. She places a bit of a vortexed shield at the post and then slips the ring from her wrist into her hand to lightly toss it, trusting her shield to catch and guide it down.

Elendril checked intellect + abjuration at difficulty 25, rolling 3 higher.

Sylindra checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 71 higher.

Glaenir checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 20, rolling 7 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 30, rolling 20 higher.

As Ellyn's figure slips past the verdant chest, she pauses a moment. Her form dips in a flow of silver silks to hook a crown of flowers from within before straightening as her gaze slides out to those moving from one event to the next. There is a hint of a smile towards Seren and Rawlin though the High Lord slips towards a simple bench along the side lines. Her free hand slips behind her in a smooth of skirts to settle in, watching the ring toss begin.

Elendril checked intellect + abjuration at difficulty 35, rolling 7 higher.

The Warlord's next ring throw is a thing of beauty, sailing through the air in a perfect immaculate arc that lands with the post perfectly centred.

Glaenir coughs quietly, and then turns on his heels. Shutting off his mind to his blunderous act, Glaenir grabs another ring and this time holds it between his thumb and index. He flicks his wrist a couple times, gauging the distance and preparing before throwing forward, narrowing his eyes at the target. Apparently, the last throw he made over his shoulder somehow, by some miracle, landed, albeit definitely not perfectly. Huh. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all.

Elendril continues tossing rings as rounds are announced. Mathmatics, geometry, and physics, backed up by talented shields around the post itself to guide things as needed. It's not fancy nor flashy, it's effective but rather boring. And with the slump of her shoulders and posture it seems as if the heart and joyful excitement she'd earlier had have slipped away.

Gureylain turns slightly, holding his next ring as he observes her, expression neutraling out some. "I am well. Thank you. Sleep and the aid of Frey were sufficient - and the good cheer aided by Sister Celenia has helped with my form and spirits."
He doesn't look, he's seen his target, and his next ring is balanced between two fingers before he twists his arm and wrist in a motion like oil over water. His ring ticking against one of the posts, then another, finally rimming his mark like a horseshoe before it falls flat.
"Thank you, though." inclining his head.

Enjoying her tea, Seren is watching keenly and quite impressed by the way those competing have chosen their methods. "Lady Elendril, how clever," she remarks over her tea, blowing across the steaming surface before sipping it again. Sylindra's amazing show of flourish and perfectly ended throw has her tilt her head, brow rising. "Well done! It seems everyone made the second round!" She cheers a bit and then glances up, seeing Ellyn the Regent smiles a bit more and shifts, motioning her over so she does not leave her post at the games. "Don't forget a tulip!" she declares for Ellyn before her attention is back on the game at hand. She waits for the next round.

Sylindra checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 16 higher.

Glaenir checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Gureylain checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 35, rolling 15 higher.

Glaenir checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 30, rolling 8 lower.

The Warlord's next toss is a casual thing, whereas the last one was effortless perfection, this one is just an indifferent throw that nonetheless lands on the target. "Still too easy, but it looks like it will finally get challenging with the next one," she observes.

"Sylindra, remind me to teach you the bow sometime. If your so accurate with an item flung, I could see you putting an arrow through eyes with your talent." Gureylain grins as he flicks another ring.
The Old Ranger snaps his wrist and his fingers, causing the ring to twist and spin through the air, like a bolt from a ballista before seating itself snuggly in place.

"Thank you for the offer Ranger," Sylindra replies to Gureylain, "but I don't know if as Warlord I have the time to master another weapon. I have to lead the Thalerith and also stay sharp on my skills with the sword and spear."

Glaenir slings the ring with a flick of his wrist, but apparently he gave it too little force! Damn that drink, yes, it must definitely be that! He raises a single hand to massage his temples, and then turns around on his heels after his apparent flop. The ring didn't even go halfway to the mark! "'tis a shame, yes! But I am still the winner of the peoples hearts!" He consoles himself, and bows one last time before getting off the stage. Glaenir can be heard muttering to himself, "Now where are those pastries, all that throwing gave me an appetite." as he departs in the general direction of the tables.

Looking over as Gureylain speaks, Elendril nods to his words, offering a hint of a smile. "I'm glad that you're well enough, and of course. At any point." She takes a breath as she watches everyone's throws improve, impressed by the flourishes and talents on display. The Warlord particularly has some stunning skills, as does the Old Wolf. She's genuinely surprised when Glaenir's next throw misses, "A shame, you'd thrown some lovely tosses." She's sorry to see the young man go out. To Sylindra, she offers a bit warmer of a smile than her earlier one, telling the Warlord, "I think that the challenges will come mainly between you and the Priest. I can only factor in so much math in my head."

"The pastries ARE amazing," Seren remarks on Glaenir's comment, lifting her head to give the table a longing look from where she stands - soon. Soon she tells herself. "If you maybe..I would love one," she asks of Glaenir. "If you would be so kind. My husband has gotten off somewhere," she says and grins at him before she turns her head back to the other two. "Round four of the ring toss!" she declares letting her hands warm around her cup.

She shifts a bit, side stepping to get a better look at the food before she remarks, "Good luck to you all."

Elendril checked intellect + abjuration at difficulty 45, rolling 6 lower.

Sylindra checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 40, rolling 3 lower.

Gureylain checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 40, rolling 28 higher.

The distance is now considerable, and the Warlord focuses carefully on her throw. The ring comes very close to the peg, but its course is off by a half inch and it bounces away. She looks at Gureylain's own throw, which easily lands on its peg, with no question that it would go elsewhere. She smiles at the Ranger, "Figures an archer would win a tossing contest."

Joran gets a sunrise crown of roses, daffodils, buttercups and little starry pinks from a verdant larkspur blossom chest.

Ragna makes the climb up to the moutainside glade, where he had heard some kind of event honoring Gala at the coming of a new season. So there he is, dressed in his hunter's garbs with his hood lowered to reveal his face. He seems to have arrived just in time to see the finish of a tossing contest. "Heh, I hope I'm not too late to enjoy festivities..."

Glaenir has already sprouted next to Seren with an assorted plate of pastries. Despite the performance displayed at the three legged race, Glaenir seemed to be quick on his feet, just not very fast. He is genuinely surprised that by the time he returned the competition seems to be nearly done, and that this round determined the supreme leader of the competition. He offers the pastries to Seren, but his eyes remain glued to the race. "Darn it, should have made bets." is what he thinks internally.

"Clearly." Gureylain grins at Syl as he twists and flings, ringing the peg once again after a flourishing side arm throw to send it to its destination. "You should see when I'm using a bow at war. I pierce more hearts than a child's 'love spirit' and pluck more eyes than a crow in a battlefield." rolling his shoulders and giving a self satisfied sigh and taking a bit to drink, pressed juices - avoiding spirits. "But, Sy - I could be no less honored than to have been able to match against one of your reputed skill, win or loss."

As Elendril had suspected, mental math eventually couldn't keep up, and she doesn't have the physical skills to make up for where her calculations failed. Her ring doesn't make it close enough to the post for her vortexed shield to grab and guide it. She shrugs as it falls in the grass, short of its intended post. Sylindra's makes it closer, but also is a miss, "You threw well, Warlord, a very talented showing." Gurey's throw hits its mark, and Elendril applauds him, though she winces at the words he speaks of war, of killing, and of death. She tries to cover the look of disgust and surprise, but it lingers for a moment before she can manage to find a polite smile once more, "Well thrown," she compliments him. And then, she turns to wander towards the snacks and drinks, searching out her Thalerith among the tables.

Glaenir is like some quick silvered sahdow suddenly back at her side and with an abundance of patries." She chuckles and gives him a rather grateful smile. "Thank you," Seren says and reaches out to take them, Marwen quick to rush forward and take her tea as the Regent glances from Glaenir back to that of the competition. "There is a maypole dance yet but I do think that is to be for fun and not competition, you might decide how dances the best," she offers him for his future betting wishes.

Seren cheers before taking a bit of her pastry, "Well done! You all were rather close there at the end but Lord Gureylain has won this time." She finishes off her bite of pastry. "We have the maypole dancing left," she supplies everyone and smiles at Ragna.

"That's a good brag!" Sylindra says to Gureylain clapping him on the back. "But please don't call me Sy or Syl."

With the ring toss wrapping up, Joran finalizes his circuit around the grounds, meeting Elendril half-way with a cup of cider in one hand and a plate bearing simple finger foods in the other. Judging by the way that Asha is eyeing the dish, it's likely one way may fallen off into his mouth - perhaps not inadvertently, knowing the Thalerith. There's a crown of flowers draped over a forearm, and his arm lifts up minutely to the Palinnar as he approaches as if to offer it over.

As the second event wraps up and the last looks to move to the maypole Ellyn rises from her seat. The Feanor slips out as quietly as she'd came. The mountain of fur beyond heaves itself up from the spring ground as well for the pair to wander off into the city with one in tow.

Bjornolf, a massive Alpha male Faenor wolf leaves, following Ellyn.

Bowing to Seren as she announces his victory, and chuckling at Sylindra when she claps him on the back. "As you wish, Sylindra." looking to the table with the food, and then catching sigh of Ellyn, a smile joining the fading lines in his features and a hand is raised as she goes before he looks to the dance forming, and starts looking around, face falling a little.

Elendril meets Joran and reaches for a small bite, popping it into her mouth and then grabbing a second that she tosses straight to the begging cub. Her smile warms back to a grin as he offers out the circlet of flowers, and she ducks her chin and head towards the Thalerith to let him place it upon her gleaming white hair.

Mitzi, a mischievous little ice elemental arrives, following Dunlain.

Ragna seems to move forward into the greeting area proper, looking at Sylindra and Joran. "Warlord Sylindra, Friend Joran." Ragna gives a standard Thalerith salute to both. "How do you both fare?" His attention is then given to Gureylain, a small nod delivered to him. "Congratulations on your victory."

Dunlain returns to the festivities looking a bit more refreshed after having nearly collapsed from the race. He goes towards the finger foods, and Mitzi dutifully keeps him from eating anything the ice elemental deems 'unhealthy' ... so his plate is mostly salad or fruit based items, and bread of some kind.

"Thank you." Gurey bows his head towards Ragna, brow knitting as his head tilts. "I don't know if we have met, sir." standing and setting his repast down. "Gureylain of Tenlindil." offering a hand towards the Thalerith.

More than content to watch the others enjoy their time, Seren continues to feast on the small compliment of pastries as they mingle. Dancers are called up to the pol set at the center of the glade with its colorful silk ribbons chosen here and there by elves participating. They are extended out so that each dancer is at a similar distance apart.

A set of drummers and fifes begin a sort of reel that plays, the dancers hopping in place once, twice and three times before every other goes one way and the rest go the opposite so they begin to weave in and out of the path of each other. Seren taps her foot as the bands of color begin their downward weave upon the pole.

Dunlain glances around the glade and then goes to find a place to sit where he can watch the dancing. He has a begrudged air about himself as he begins to /slowly/ eat his plate of greenery, focusing on the bread first except when Mitzi is paying attention.

Standing before Elendril and functioning as a glorified serving platter, Joran passes over the drink, then settles the flower-crown atop her pate, adjusting it minutely with a gesture and contact that lingers for a brief moment. His lips are quirked into an absent smile toward the Palinnar, though his attention shifts away at the call from Ragna. He offers a bob of a nod in reply to the Aynarr, responding, "Hail, kin. It is a day of celebration in Thelos, for more than one reason to some. There is still much work to be done, but the reprieve may do us well to focus sharper when the time comes." He falls silent after the words, gaze shifting from Elendril to the activity burgeoning around the nearby pole.

Ragna offers a hand to Gureylain in return. "Ragna of Aynarr. Its nice to meet you, Gureylain. I assume you are enjoying festivities?" Then to Seren as she seems to eat her pastries. His eyes briefly capture the multiple dancers as they weave in and out, a chuckle caught in his throat as he watches on. Then to Joran. "Very true. I find it helpful to have a day of relaxation, of rememberence before we enter the strong tide of survival yet again."

As Dunlain and Mitzi pass, Elendril keeps a careful eye on the icy elemental, wary to not let it get too close. But despite her wariness, she finds a smile of genuine affection for Dunlain as she tells him, "It's good to see you up and hale. I'm grateful to see you feeling so well." The last time she can recall seeing him atop a waterfall was a terrifying moment.
She takes the cup of cider from Joran, sipping before telling him, "Thank you, my heart." He settles a crown of flowers atop her head, and after she hooks her non-cider holding hand through the crook of his elbow, linking her arm through his and pressing in against his side. She listens to the conversation shared between the two Thalerith men as she sips at the sweet juice in her cup.

"It would be better I am missing one whom I wish would pull herself away from other things." His survey of the grounds completed, Gureylain's expression sombers some. Letting Ragna to his distraction in Joran, his head lifting once more, amber eyes hunting.

Seren delights in the dancers, a wistful look crossing her face as she seems to recall something. It flees the moment her head turns at the sound of Gurey's voice. "Do you remember, cousin. The Rylanth spring sunrises?" She smiles all the more, she can not help it as memories spring forward. "I was much younger then," she quips with some humor before smiling upon meeting Ragna's gaze. "I hope you enjoy yourself, plenty yet to do," she offers. A brief lean towards Glaenir and the Elder speaks, "Do you not dance? I am sure someone would switch with you!" She urges him, "Dance in my stead," she adds, keeping herself from starting another pastry.

Dunlain smiles to Elendril, "Thank you. I've been doing better, yes. It was definitely something to wake one up to bad habits, I suppose." he waves a fork full of salad in the air to punctuate the concept. "Though, I wish healthy was a broader category. I'm not a rabbit."

Sylindra approaches Dunlain, "Just eat meat and fat, like a real warrior, as long as you keep training it will all go to your muscles."

Ragna tilts his head at Gureylain. "A lover, I assume?" He can sense the tone on Gureylain's face, plus his somewhat sombering expression gives it away. Though his attention shifts to Dunlain, giving the fellow a wave and an invitation to join. "Greetings, friend. Have you only recently joined this celebration?" He does seem to laugh a bit at Sylindra's words. "Agreed. If you don't train, it'll all go to your hips."

Glaenir had been staring forward at the dancers with a wishful smile, and a tilted head. He was basically a glorified table the past while, holding the pastry plate and standing still- and he hadn't even noticed. The sudden questions jerked him awake, and his smile shifted into a gentle one as he looked over at Seren. As if he noticed that gleam in her eye, Glaenir lowers the plate towards her, offering some more pastry, "I don't know the first thing about dancing, ma'am. That and I have no one to dance with."

Dunlain chuckles softly, looking up at both Sylindra and then to Ragna, waving his salad fork in greeting. "Well, I'm no slouch. I train most days of the week... but doctor's orders. I need to change my eating habits or I could suffer another heart attack." he looks then to Ragna, "Oh, I placed second in the three-legged race earlier, I just returned from a rest."

The song continues on and the silken ribbons get shorter and shorter, weaving together with a riot of color. Seren glances to Glaenir, "Ahh but this is a dance with your ribbon, not a partner. You should try," she insists but then there is that plate offered and she looks down at it with a laugh, "Thank you kindly, you have been gracious," she says of him. She plucks up another pastry despite her best intentions and begisn to tear pieces off to eat it, attempting not to get crumbs down her sunset colored gown.

"Seren will be fine, ma'am. I suppose I am old enough," she jests and casts her gaze off as the drums get faster and the dancers get closer and closer to the pole. Finally their ribbons become so that they can not weave any longer and the tales are left dancing in the breeze. The musicians bring the song to an end. Clapping and cheers go up to add to the celebration that is likely to go on for some time - but mostly in the form of drinking and eating.

Seren is overheard praising Elendril: For winning the three legged race! Well done!

Seren is overheard praising Joran: For winning the three legged race! Well done!

Seren is overheard praising Sylindra: Such form in the ring toss has never been seen!

Dunlain is overheard praising Seren: Hostess of a great race and celebration!

Seren is overheard praising Glaenir: Effort in every sense of the word and dashing pastry handler!

Seren is overheard praising Dunlain: A hero for carrying Luthien in the race!

Dunlain is overheard praising Luthien: For hosting a stiring sermon in Gala's honor at the start of the celebration.

Seren is overheard praising Luthien: A great cohost and lovely sermon!

Seren is overheard praising Gureylain: An archer never misses his target!

Dunlain is overheard praising Joran: For winning the race!

Seren is overheard praising Celenia: One must appreciate a race never given up on!

Dunlain is overheard praising Elendril: For winning the race!

Sylindra is overheard praising Gureylain: Nice throws old ranger.

Seren is overheard praising Ragna: Spring always needs more joy. Thank you for celebrating.

Seren is overheard praising Rawlin: For making it past the finish line in one piece!

Joran is overheard praising Seren: Adept at coordinating activities and raising spirits in celebration.

Sylindra is overheard praising Seren: Such a lovely spring fest.

Seren is overheard praising Ellyn: Good to see her out and enjoying the spring!

Seren is overheard praising Alethia: Good to see her smiling and enjoying herself!

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