Sepdet unwraps the bundle of clothes she snagged from the infirmary and drapes them over the smoothed trunk of her favorite fallen tree, then heads up to the bank to Leonard's small fire-ring to see about making some coals.

Three-Blades looks out over the shimmering surface of the lake, head rested on her paws and ear turned towards the approach of the Strider. The Gnawer's tail twitches once, to signify she hears Sepdet coming.

Sepdet hums a soft, soothing tune that suits the water well, as she goes about setting up a few small ends of logs, lichen, and twigs that will catch quickly. The fire flares up with a burst, and then she turns back to the Gnawer, looking her over. ~They said Dane gave you a bit of healing. How is it?~

Three-Blades rumbles softly. It doesn't hurt. Just tired, she answers, still not shifting from her position. Black ears settle back into her fur, the newmoon blinking once.

Sepdet moves over to Yi slowly, monitoring her reaction as if approaching a wild creature to make sure she doesn't seem to mind the Strider crouching beside her and reaching out to rest a hand on her back.

Three-Blades is as placid as the lake she watches, indifferent it seems, to the Strider's touch. For long, pregnant moments only the crackle of the fire and the gentle brushing of wind over water accompany the two. Then the newmoon exhales loudly, a wolven sigh.

Sepdet strokes the Gnawer's back with slow methodical movements, like a mother wolf licking a newborn dry. ~What is it?~ she prods, after another pause.

For one that may be young, she feels so old and worn. The Gnawer finally tilts her head to find a different view of the landscape, resettling with another short exhale. What answer do I give that question? she snorts softly, ears disappearing into her black ruff.

Sepdet continues stroking her. ~We pick up stones on the way,~ she says regretfully. ~I wish you hadn't had to find them so soon.~ She looks out at the lake. ~How to answer? Tell me what sits inside. Clean out the wounds of the spirit by letting it open again. Or not.~ Her voice is comfortable, even, not really pushing.

Though she doesn't really wish it, the Gnawer's hackles rise slowly from growing frustration. The slow strokes over her back temper the feelings churning in the newmoon. I pick up mountains I can't carry, and then dump them on others. A growl rattles in her throat, low and shamed. Even from the start, I had others to care for me like I was a cub. Everything, watched over because I make so much trouble. What rocks I find, get thrown at the faces of my family and friends, and even those that do not even think about who I am. My existence is a burden to those that I care for, and only harries hearts until I cause my elders their early deaths. She snorts again, ears pinned back in her dark fur.

Sepdet rises with the flickering flames of the nearby fire, and moves around to face Yi, taking her gently by either side of her muzzle and looking at her earnestly. ~My little brother is chewing on you again,~ she says with a bittersweet smile. ~Come on. I've been where you are. The world runs over us sometimes and it feels like we're nothing but scars and teeth and blood and shadows, burdens to the air. So we look after each other. You're forgetting how you helped me come back from despair just this time last year, when my Lady lay dead by Garou hands. You're forgetting the good you've done, the hope you've given others before. The enemies you've fought want that very much of you: despair, defeat. Don't give them satisfaction.~

Three-Blades looks at Sepdet muzzle-to-face, unblinking to her words. She then rises to her paws and moves off a little ways, unwilling to face the Strider. That's not the point! she growls with frustration, tail lashing now that she is on the move. I do more harm than good, cause more trouble than I help. The newmoon paces left and right, circling her own steps in agitation. I go home to help, and I stir up ants in their nests, find myself helpless and needing others to come and rescue me. I come here, and it ends up the same. Just one night I go out to find my living, and I end up sparking rivalries, angering another tribe, and sending my pack running to help because again I am in trouble. She stops, gaze glaring at the lake, tension coursing and coming off her fur in an almost tangible electricity.

Leonard picks his way down the hill from the direction of the bluff, a bag slung over his shoulder.

Sepdet sighs faintly. ~You did nothing to spark that tension. They would have been fighting among themselves without you being anywhere near. And /tell/ me you don't coming running for me, when I'm in trouble. That's pack. That's friendship. It is not burden.~ She walks over towards the water's edge. ~And weren't you wounded trying to cut back on "crime"? Is that a sin, then, to be wounded in the pursuit of justice?~

Three-Blades tosses her head. No. I was nearly killed for the sake of trying to steal what was not mine, but what I needed. I deserved the hits, if anything. I was not careful. And in not being careful... just look at all that happened! The newmoon stamps the dirt beneath her paw. Her ears turn back again, and she flops back down onto her stomach with a whuff.

Leonard moves over to sit by Yi, paying a hand on her head. "Then next time you'll be more careful.

Sepdet glances up as the Wendigo troops in and gives him a wry shake of the head. Behind them, up on the bank, a small fire pops merrily to itself, unconcerned.

Three-Blades growls irritatedly. Next time... next time, I'll be dead. The morbid newmoon shifts her position, pushing herself to her feet and replacing herself a few feet away. Just don't touch me, Little Bear. I poison the luck of others.

Sepdet clasps her hands behind her back. ~You? I've had almost every packmate and friend I love bar Joseph killed. Stop it before I pull your tail off. You've got Wyrm on the brain, and it's /not/ because you've done anything wrong.~

Leonard eyes Yi, then shifts down to lupus and promptly pounces on her. Make me.

Three-Blades hushes herself at that point, despite her talk of death. She doesn't want -more- trouble. The Gnawer lies back down again, tail purposefully curling out of sight under her legs. Only to be pounced by the Wendigo. She yips in surprise despite herself, and struggles out from under the bigger galliard.

Little Bear lets Three-Blades struggle out and then promptly pounces her again. C'mon, where's my lightning strike? Rain of frogs? Locusts? I thought you were supposed to be bad luck?

Sepdet watches the antics but doesn't participate, a tense smile barely daring to stick on her features as she moves down to the edge of the water and sinks her toes into the mud.

Three-Blades yarps with the second pounce, flattening down under the galliard and squeezing out again. With a turn she growls, whether it is playfully or warningly is undeterminable. She doesn't control the weather, but she does strike quick as lightning, throwing all her weight into a lunge against Little Bear's shoulder.

Little Bear rolls with it, tongue lolling, tail windmilling, and nips at her ruff. Oh no, I tripped, she must be cursed!

Three-Blades manages to jump over Little Bear as he rolls, landing on all fours on his other side. She backs up, ears splayed to either side of her head as she regards him. Then she turns and trots away a few more paces, tail lashing once behind her.

Little Bear immediately gets up and follows, nipping at her lashing tail impudently, eyes gleaming.

Sepdet stands expectantly, poised as if waiting for a signal. She watches the tussle with far more scrutiny than such friendly exchanges usually merit.

Three-Blades turns again, side facing the Wendigo. What do you want!? she demands with a bark. The Gnawer is obviously restraining herself from snapping at her own packmate, as she backs up again, this time facing Little Bear as she does.

Little Bear locks eyes with her, stalking after her. I want you to stop this. I want my Bitterroot back. I want a roll in the mud with my packsister the way she used to be. The way I know she still is if she'd let go of all this silly guilt.

Sepdet says drily, ~Before I make you sit through the reason why your alpha is ten times worse than you. You don't want that, Yi, really.~

Three-Blades snorts quietly, drawing herself up to a sit. I will let go of it, if you stop nipping at my tail, Little Bear. I have enough problems keeping my human hair clean as is than needing your suggestions of mud to mess up my fur. The Gnawer's ears continue their splay off to either side.

Little Bear sits in mirror of Three-Blades, cocking his head rakishly. Everyone needs a little mud.

Sepdet looks down pointedly at her brown feet sunk into the cold and damp mud under an inch or so of water.

Three-Blades' jaws part slowly, in a growing sign of mischief. Then go get yourself some. The Gnawer nearly shoots off from her spot like a pinball being launched, running for the lakeside and straight at Sepdet.

Sepdet surely wouldn't have walked into the edge of the lake just to be a target of her packmates. No, of course not. But isn't it odd that the rather agile Strider doesn't even see Yi coming, or at least, barely begins to dodge before being bowled over and catapulted several yards out into the water with a mighty splash and a yip?

Little Bear starts, then wheels, digging his claws in the soft ground and lanching after her, tail waving like a pennant, and splashes down shortly after them.

Three-Blades follows through with her charge and tumble straight into the water, ignorant of the sudden cold shock that it puts on her body. It's almost like a wakeup call as the newmoon resurfaces, paddling for a spot that she can actually stand in inside the lake. She looks back once for the Strider, blinking at the spot the theurge disappeared under.

Sepdet pops up sputtering and smiling, her black mop spreading out around her shoulders like flotsom. She wriggles nimbly towards Three-blades, diving under the surface otter-fashion and popping up on hands and knees a few feet behind her. ~Now which Rite is that?~ she queries, dripping.

Little Bear surfaces, shaking violently. Rite of the Soaked Strider?

Three-Blades turns and finds purchase in the soft mud under the water. Half in the water, half out, she stops and dips her muzzle to lick up the water as Little Bear drenches the two of them with more water. When the galliard stops, she flicks her wet ears forward at Sepdet and slips out her pink tongue at the Strider. What do I answer to that?

Sepdet shakes her head wolf-fashion, spraying the water and them with a fine rain. ~Something impudent, I was thinking, but Little Bear's will do,~ she says good-naturedly.

Little Bear clambers out of the water, looking quite pleased with himself. Well, now that that's all over. I'm hungry. Let's go kill something.

Three-Blades blinks at her Wendigo packmate, before moving out of the water herself. She shakes herself on the bank, nature's own sprinkler system in the form of a wet canine. A few seconds of shaking and the Gnawer's fur is sticking out in all sorts of crazy angles. You really know how to make your opinion known, don't you Little Bear?

Little Bear's tongue lolls as he looks over his shoulder at his packmate. I'm a moonsinger. Its my job.

Sepdet scrambles to her feet and splashes back onto the shore next to them, glancing up at the sky. ~It is.~ She seems to have her mind on other matters, a thoughtful expression chewing at the corner of her lip, but lets them be for now.

Little Bear shakes himself, thoroughly. Enough talk. Hunt.

Three-Blades licks away some of the water clinging around her muzzle, still dripping away on the bank as she looks at her two packmates. Seeing Sepdet's eyes travel skyward, the Gnawer follows her gaze a moment. Then, sneaking up beside the Strider, the Gnawer takes in a deep breath and rings out a loud hunting howl.

Little Bear turns in a cirle, adding his voice to the howl.

Three-Blades clips off her howl neatly, before pacing forward a few steps. She looks back at Little Bear expectantly. You -are- the more efficient one.

Little Bear snorts in amusement. I'll need help if we're all of us to eat. Deer'll be rutting soon. Scent easy to follow. Lte's start near the swamp.

Three-Blades steps aside for Little Bear to take the lead, following him at his flank as the two of them go off to bring home the venison.

Little Bear trots on down the hill, turning it into a lope as he beelines for the marsh. He splashes along, nose to the ground, tail straight out, ears forward.

Three-Blades concentrates on following the Wendigo's example, not really having much experience at all in this area of hunting. When they reach the marsh, the newmoon is careful about where she puts her paws. Heck, she doesn't even know what a rutting deer smells like.

Little Bear seems to expect her to know what she's doing as he trots along, deeper into the swamp, zigging and zagging as he hunts for a scent. A full hour and they're almost out of swamp to search when in the brush something moves, and Little Bear stops dead, head down, tail up, testin the air. Smell it?

Three-Blades shadows the galliard amidst the shadows, her dark mottled fur blending in well. She stops at the movement, ears pricking upward and sniffs to gather the scent. Looking back at the Wendigo, her tail twitches once. Is that what it is?

Little Bear keeps his eyes on the movement in the brush, wagigng his tail once in the affirmative. You go left, I'll go right. Be ready to run. He begins creeping on his belly in the direction indicated.

Three-Blades does as suggested, taking a circling path to flank their mutual target on the left. Ears up, she moves almost silently, setting each paw down carefully so as not to make a noise.

No matter how quiet the damn things always seem to know when you're coming, and its no different tonight. Not ten feet away from the prey of choice and it suddenly takes a tenty-foot leap out of the sagebrush and towards the swamp, all legs and eyes and a magnificent rack, thirteen points at least. Its flanks heave as it readies itself for another leap.

Little Bear explodes out of the underbrush after it, growling in frustration as he digs into the loam for traction. Get ahead of it!

Three-Blades blinks as the stag makes its incredible bound over the brush. Not long after the Gnawer is turning and darting after it with paws digging into the ground. Amazingly she doesn't lose too much footing in the soft ground, chasing after with her tongue flapping after. I'll get it! seems to be the sort of mentality she's settling into, launched and locked like a dark furry homing missile.

Little Bear leaps more than runs, trying his damndest to keep up with the almost supernatural der as it bounds it's way through the last of the underbrush and into the swamp with a splash.

Three-Blades screeches to a halt and nearly falls into the swamp from the underbrush, blinking a few times as the deer jumps into the water. The Gnawer hunts around for some solid ground before extending her chase out on a small muddy path through the reeds. What to do now...

Little Bear just ploughs right on into the water, knowing even as he does so this is a lost chase as the water comes up to his shoulders and slows his lower-to-the-ground form down as the deer, legs needle-thin and seemingly powered by springs, takes off into the growing fog. He strains a few more times then halts, panting, covered in duckweed and water. Damn.

Three-Blades sniffs after the deer, before rounding back towards Little Bear and his drenched self. Maybe aiming at a lower star will help, she suggests briefly while licking off a droplet of water from herself.

Little Bear grunts, wending his way to a drier area before shaking. Rabbits again, then?

Three-Blades chuffs in small agreement, not minding the somewhat smaller prey. She turns back for the path they took, sniffing about for possibilities. Rabbits around a swamp?

Little Bear snorts, following her. Rabbits are everywhere. But probably closer to the lake.

From atop a large boulder overlooking the lake, Rain-Cougar appears. He is carrying a large brown rabbit in his muzzle. He chuffs, and wags his tail slightly. No rabbits by the lake.

Three-Blades flicks her tail musingly as the tables to hunt have turned to Little Bear following her back towards the lake. Along their way in the underbrush, the Gnawer pauses a few times in bush inspection. The scent of Rain-Cougar, though, does get her attention as she stops looking for prey and looks instead for another predator.

Little Bear raises his head and tests the air, then breaks into a wolf-grin. He lopes on up the hill and playfully attempts to steal the rabbit from Rain-Cougar. This your ~chiminage?~

Rain-Cougar growls, and shakes his meal out of Little Bear's reach. He bounds back onto the ground, and watches Little Bear from beneath his furry brows, wagging his tail. This is my offering to the spirits, to pity your hunting party. He growls playfully.

Three-Blades follows after, or at least, was following until a small squeak gets her attention. Following her nose forward the newmoon flushes a tiny mouse, which she pounces on and fumbles about with before accidentally stepping on it instead to break its back. The rodent dead, she carries it back to the other two Wendigo. Pity the newmoon.

Little Bear glances back as Three-Blades comes up with her kill, and snorts. But we have returned triumphant! The whole pack will feast tonight thanks to our skill and daring! Grandmother herself does-- He sighs, chuffing a great gust of air as his head lowers. Maybe you should make it two rabbits.

Rain-Cougar growls, and drops the rabbit to the dust, baring his teeth in mock challenge, wagging his bushy grey tail. Maybe I should make it a little bear.

Three-Blades has the rodent easily in between her jaws, setting it down on the rabbit. And seeing her opportunity, she scoops both mouse and rabbit into her jaws and takes off for the lake, laughing with her tail up at the misfortune of the two Wendigo.

Little Bear grumbles and gives chase. Ain't that always the way. The Indians fight amongst themselves while the Wyrmcomers make off with the spoils.

Rain-Cougar sits back on his haunches and yips at the two running wolves. Leave her, bear, she'll be lost in the woods soon.

The new Wendigo really should have more faith in the Gnawer. As she runs she definitely looks like she knows where she's going, darting through bush and over rock until finally breaking out into the open. The newmoon takes a brief look back to see who is still with her.

Little Bear is of course, still with her, knowing the GNawer better than his tribemate.

Three-Blades slows once she reaches the fire, dropping her catch by the ring of coals and hopping off to one side. Her ears tilt at Little Bear and she lolls her tongue. I'd say that hunt was successful.

Rain-Cougar trots along afterwards, flopping down by the fire, and soon dozing off...

Little Bear doesn't slow, just bowls her over. I'd call it a theft, myself, but I'm picky. Just for that great hunter you get to cook.

[And so they cook, and eat, and sleep. Rarr.]