Don't Drink the Dye   2493.06.24*  
Written By: Razzle C.
(2012 Treasure Hunt) Silverbite wonders just what Nightstorm, her new elf friend, has brewed in that pot — and why does it smell so interesting?!
Posted: 09/05/12      [9 Comments]

2012 TREASURE HUNT CLUE #5: I'm an unpalatable plant, but my leaves, when fermented, have a use. What am I? (Answer: Dyeweed / dyer’s woad)

Illustration by Peggy B..
Silverbite's nose twitched. Her muzzle was pointed roughly upwards as she tested the air. The scent that had piqued her interest was coming from a large clay pot that her elf had just unlidded. It smelled similar to the basket of flowering weeds sitting next to the pot, but there was something different, too. The yearling she-wolf pranced closer for a better look and sniff, giving her elf a curious glance. Nightstorm, who had wound her long braid up on top of her head, was unfolding some length of cloth with a flap. Then, she dipped it into the pot — and Silverbite dipped her nose over the rim at the same time.

"Get back, silly!" But Nightstorm's tone was gentle and her mood seemed happy, so Silverbite didn't take her too seriously. "I'm trying to work!" Silverbite's ears were pricked as far forward as they could get as her elf lifted the cloth, dripping the wonderfully pungent liquid, out of the pot and carefully wrung most of the moisture out, then back into the pot. Then, mysteriously, she dropped it back in again.

It was more than young Silverbite could resist. That wonderful dark brew smelled like summer plants bottled up for playing with today. She had to know how it tasted.

With an eager lap of her big pink tongue, Silverbite found out.

Oh, yes. She found out.

Backing away and hacking, she reached up with a paw to rub at her nose as if that would rid her mouth of the intense bitter flavor.

"Silverbite!" Nightstorm chided in dismay, wiping her brow with a heavy-gloved hand. "Don't drink the dye!" The she-elf eyed her wolf, who was still reacting to the unpleasant flavor. What did Silverbite's elf-friend want such a nasty bowl of water for?!

Silverbite shook herself heartily, and gave one final hack of complaint. Maybe that stuff was just for smelling, and not for tasting after all!

Suddenly, a small, tittering giggle came from Silverbite's elf-friend, and the she-wolf looked up at her with a questioning tilt of the head.

In answer, she received a wolf-send, that she had to think hard to sort out — a wolf with a blue tongue?

Oh — wait... Gently guided to the concept by her elf-bond, Silverbite realized that the wolf in the send was herself. She had a blue tongue.

Understanding the significance of that went beyond her, though. With a snort of affected disinterest, Silverbite turned away from elf-friend, weeds-basket, and fun-smell-bad-taste pot of liquid. She flicked an ear back in disdain and trotted away to find something else to occupy her time.

Watching her new wolf-bond go, Nightstorm smiled to herself and dipped the cloth into the dyeweed brew once more.

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