The long tones of a lone wolf's howl echoes out, strained through by the roar of the waterfall. Within the tones, mixtures of sorrow and some hope ring out only to be lost in the skies.

Blooms-Pain trots down towards the waterfalls after hearing the beautiful songs of the canto-gnawer. Lifting her head up, she joins with her, the melody starving to be released as it sings with the falling curtain of water.

Three-Blades blinks as a second wolf joins in, the second's howl more natural than hers by far. But at the moment the Gnawer is caught up with her own emotions which she lifts to the moon and stars, sounding out the tears that do not fall in the wolven form only to be symbolized by the constant tumble of the water.

Blooms-Pain lets her song carry on for a few more moments, then pauses. Glancing over to Blades, she chuffs out softly, the cold breath misting around her muzzle in a white cloud.

Three-Blades lets her howl fade, finally turning an ear to the galliard cub. Not looking at her yet, eyes still skyward, she chuffs lightly to greet the cub. Hello. Not much happy power behind the Gnawer's voice tonight.

Blooms-Pain blinks her eyes a few times, then trots over to her, nuzzling against her. What is wrong sister? Why do you look so upset?

Three-Blades lets the cub nuzzle her, snorting softly to shake off the dark clouds hanging over her head. Just howling. It is a nice night for it.

Blooms-Pain can taste the sadness in the song you sung, knows something is making you upset, and is wondering, if you are ok.

Three-Blades finally looks at Blooms, amber eyes obviously covering up with effort but not succeeding very well in the lupus form, some hidden angst. I will be fine, really. The Gnawer lowers down onto her haunches. Just needed to blow away some dark clouds. Memories.

Blooms-Pain cants her head to the side, tucking her head under the Gnawer's, letting her chin rest upon her. Tell me please? Perhaps speaking of your pain, will relieve you of them.

Three-Blades rumbles softly, about as close to a sigh as she could do at the moment. Almost two seasons, now, that I have been gone from home. I miss it. I miss One-Rage, and my sister who I left after I changed.

Blooms-Pain nods her head and flicks her tail back and forth, then gently licks at the cliath's throat. Missing friends is always hard.

Three-Blades flattens her ears back into her fur, the feelings again washing over like wind over fur. I sometimes wish I didn't leave. And then, I know now what I would have never seen had I not come. Who I would never have met, if I had not. She growls softly again, simply confused by her own self. I have not heard one bark from them, in turns of the moon. I worry. Could they have fallen to the Wyrm? to the Garou that wanted to take our sept's territory? To blood-drinkers? Each question gets an angry, bitter lash of the nomoon's tail.

Blooms-Pain nuzzles her again, letting the Gnawer vent as she ponders how to respond. Perhaps, you should write a letter to them, or use the talking tool to keep in touch?

Three-Blades has, Blooms-From-Her-Pain. I sent ~letters~ and have not heard a reply. I asked if Grandmother was healthy and witty as usual. I asked if my mentor, the Gazer, was still teaching the arts of balance. I asked if the Garou I rited with were healthy and well-fed. Not one yip. And still, I have not completed the duty Grandmother charged me with. I am a lazy fool, staying in this sept and being lax in my given duties. Her growl deepens, only at herself. There's some more pause, before the Gnawer looks back up at the galliard. What talking tool?

Blooms-Pain chuckles and paws at her. ~Phone~

Three-Blades snorts softly, knowing the galliard means well. I have tried. No answer, to the ones I tried and knew. They must have moved. It has been so, because of tension. My sept was not the strongest of the area. Under the Walkers and Shadow Lords fighting above us and with us, we would move to one place, wait for the fighting to wane, and then move back, like the lapping of the ocean waves. We had no need for ~phones~. Only barking chains. Was faster, that way. And free of charge.

Blooms-Pain thinks for a moment, then lets out a slight whine of frustration. Flattening her ears, she simply nuzzles into the new moon, hoping to content her with a warm heart instead.

Three-Blades does give the galliard a short lick of appreciation. I am sorry for bringing my troubles out and laying them on your head, Blooms. If you had not come, I would have simply howled the thoughts away. They should only be my concern, not yours or any others.

Blooms-Pain licks her back on the snout. No, thinks one should speak of their sorrows and problems, so they don't let it eat them up from inside. Its healthy, and she is willing to listen to you.

Three-Blades turns an ear to the falls, listening to the water crashing upon water. For a moment, she does not reply. Then in a soft rumble, maybe you are right. She looks back at the cub. But one should not be laying her own troubles over other Garou heads, as they have enough to worry about, like passing rites of passage. The Gnawer paws at the galliard, affecting a different subject to speak about. I have not scented you in a long time, Blooms. Where have you disappeared to? Or rather, where have I been missing? The nomoon affects a short lupine grin.

Blooms-Pain glances about, then chuffs. I am living upon the Bawn now, just off the Caern. I am not to live at the farmhouse anymore for the moment. I spend a lot of time here now, thinking, playing, and visiting the other cubs sometimes, when I can.

Three-Blades muses this, her ears eventually returning to a wary normal set. They move you much, Blooms. Perhaps it is to have exposure to both human and wolf dens. But when will they allow you back to visit us? The Gnawer tilts her head queryingly, but then realizes maybe it was a question out of order. After all, tribes handled their tribes they way they will.

Blooms-Pain flattens her ears once again. I do not think I will be coming back to the scab, not for a long, long time. Not until I rite first. They will not let me leave, they must not trust me.

Three-Blades snorts, edges of her lips curling back with distaste. Granted the home of the Scab-dwellers is not clean, but... I would think it is clean enough if Garou can live in it. She raises a paw and scratches at her head. Your tribe is supposed to be the ones who help those downtrodden, no?

Blooms-Pain thinks that our tribe is to help unify the tribes together, and heal the past, and help, yes. But has noticed that most of her kind here, does not like the scab.

Hope-Star appears in a glimmer of indigo light. Hope-Star has arrived.

Three-Blades rolls her shoulders a bit. If they had these forests to run in, they would not like the Scab either. But one can't unify the tribes if they will not seek to understand them by avoiding their dens. Healing the past may help some, but thinking of the future should be of greater use.

Blooms-Pain dips her head forward as she sways her tail, back and forth. Some are just blind by their own pride.

Three-Blades looks surprised by the sudden shimmer of light, but seeing who comes out of it gives her some relief. The Gnawer's just a little tense tonight. A little.

Hope-Star pulls out of the umbra with a hop and lands half in, half out of the water. Splash. She gives a defiant yip at no one in particular, belling out: You there / over there! / You see only one road! / But you forgot / you can step off the path!

Pack> Hope-Star says "Wolf does haiku. News at 11."

Blooms-Pain stares blankly and in confusion.

Three-Blades splays ears to either side, though the smaller jackal gets chuff. This time, Blooms will notice, it's a little more masked with the happy Gnawer feeling that Yi tends to have, and not the troubled lupe that was howling her sadness earlier.

Hope-Star's tail flicks a few times, as much of a wag as she usually dares in public, and pads primly up the bank. Seemed like someone here was saying that. Excuse me. She gives Yi a keen look, as if to ask, do you understand? Then she brushes past the Gnawer with a very gentle nosebump and throws herself down on her side.

Blooms-Pain watches the two interact for a moment, tail drawing between her legs, ears flattening. She obtains a submissive posture.

Three-Blades chuffs again, Good moonrise, Hope-Star-rhya. An ear turns to Blooms and she nuzzles the submissive cub. Enough formal posturing. You're making me stiff. She flicks her ear and turns to the Strider, rumbling, Understand which?

Hope-Star lifts one ear from her rather undignified position and her tail skips against the ground once. The road, and stepping off of it. But it's not that important. You were speaking wisdom here. Keep doing so.

Hope-Star growls mock-threateningly. Otherwise I will start doing so again, and you don't want /that/.

Three-Blades glances back to Blooms, then oddly at the Strider to parse her words. Something to file away as another Sepdetism. She turns back to Alicia and rumbles softly. Well, they may be blind with pride, but perhaps it is a part of your moon to help them see their pride should come from their actions. Sepdet's growl turns her ear, and the nomoon sniffs. If your wisdom comes freely as the water that flows down the falls here, then I would be glad to dip my paws in your pool of knowledge. Darn Stargazer tutored Gnawers.

Hope-Star sighs, letting all the tension of various responsibilities ground themselves in stone, at least for a few minutes, watching them with muzzle tilted against the ground. Thank you. I suppose I will have to find some to keep up with you, packmate, she teases, then shifts her body slightly to look towards the Gaian. Do you have something to believe in, cub?

Blooms-Pain glances between the two, eyes slitted a bit, tiredly. Something to believe in? Twisting her ears back a bit, she looks thoughtfully at the Adren.

Three-Blades gives the cub a short lick across her muzzle. Unity of the tribes, inner peace with the Rage, a pure face of Gaia... or how about just going to sleep? The Gnawer whuffles softly. You look tired.

Hope-Star elaborates: I believe in the story of Phoenix and making new growth, healing, from loss. I knew one Stargazer who believed that Garou fighting was always a victory for the Wyrm, and that since the Wyrm had forgotten its function, we Garou have taken its place as the cleansers of rot from the world. And I knew a cub who believed the Weaver, not the Wyrm, was the enemy, and that her life's goal was to destroy it. Such dreams can give you focus, and will grow with you, as others challenge you to defend them.

Blooms-Pain dips her head a bit, eyes blinking a few times. Taking a deep breath, she comes to a single agreement: I am tired. Perhaps, I shall go sleep.

Hope-Star raises her head with an apologetic whuff, for asking life questions when sleep calls. Go dream, cub. Sleep well.

Three-Blades gives the galliard an affectionate, grateful nuzzle before pushing the cub with her head lightly. Sleep is good.

Blooms-Pain finally lets out a long yawn, snappign her jaws closed. She leans into the Gnawer for a moment, nuzzling into her fur, then states. I am tired from my first victory spar'n.

Three-Blades tilts her head. Against who?

Blooms-Pain chuffs out in slight amusement, eyes closing for a second. The Silver Fang, King's-Gambit.

Three-Blades looks surprised. The new cliath? Her jaw half opens. Good job, Gaia child. Show the others your tribe is not just a hugger of trees.

Hope-Star sighs faintly.

Blooms-Pain chortles softly, amused. Yes, we do hug trees, and plant flowers yes? Another yawn. Good night, may Luna light your pathways home safely, Avalon.

Three-Blades gives the cub another good night nudge. Sleep well.

Hope-Star's tail thumps at the cub's farewell, but has already given her blessing for dreams, and thus says nothing more to her.

Blooms-Pain nuzzles against the two lupines, then slips back off to the compound.

Hope-Star waits for the cub to be gone before speaking, cautiously, of her tribe. The elder Children of Gaia spend too time at this sept proving they are not gentle or kind, she growls. I have seen them /destroy/ daisies at moot to prove the point.

Three-Blades rumbles, her own ears half-flattening. Blooms knows the Scab here better than I. She ran with Hatchet, before he was cubnapped by my passed tribe-brother. Her elders are afraid of her becoming 'tainted' by us. The Gnawer snorts some more, giving the waterfall some more of her annoyed looks.

Hope-Star exhales. Yes. Of course. I tainted one of their half-moon cubs, once, by teaching her to follow her own road, and not be afraid to stand up and say: justice without compassion is of the Wyrm. She left the sept when a no-moon was banished for his mistakes, and she dared to challenge the alpha over it.

Three-Blades scratches at her shoulder. That is not your fault. If the cub didn't have discretion enough, then it was her responsibility for her actions. I am not saying to simply step off the path. Just to sniff at what is beyond and see if it leads to nowhere. The Gnawer growl-sighs softly. I can see Blooms becoming stagnant. And stagnant pools breed some bad things. If only her elders would teach her more, bring her places to experience things, so she could rite.

Hope-Star wishes to take her to the Shadow. Her elders gave me that right. We could show her more beauty.

Three-Blades doubts she has seen the Scab's face in the Shadow, either. She growls quietly, the emotions from before just adding to the other annoyances that come up in her head. Taking her to the Umbra will help her gain knowledge of it, yes, but she would not learn how to 'unify the tribes' by playing with spirits.

Hope-Star considers.

Hope-Star wonders whether we might have a tribe elder moot for cubs to ask questions. But no, the other tribes would not agree.

Three-Blades muses on that, but the sheer disagreement that could come from it... No, the elders of other tribes probably would not agree to it. They barely stand each other at the great moots here as is. The Gnawer paws the ground. At home, I only had to worry about three, maybe four tribes. Here, there are too many to think about.

Hope-Star's tail wags slightly as she hops to her feet again. Yes. It is not called the Wheel caern anymore, so people forget we are all parts of the same circle. But we are. Thirteen spokes, thirteen paths. That is our greatest weakness. And our greatest strength.

But each spoke does not necessarily need to know what the other spokes do, Hope-Star-rhya. You said yourself, it is probably better for cubs of the tribes to learn from their own first, so as not to be muddled with other tribal ideas. Three-Blades rolls her shoulders in a shrug, and gets up to pad to the edge of the pool. The Gnawer, at this point, is probably just babbling. She doesn't really know what she's talking about. Really.

Hope-Star dips her eyes in agreement. And worry about unifying them /after/ Riting. Yes. She pads after the Gnawer and catches up to lick her shoulder once, then declares. I run to the waters. Come clear that head of yours with speed under the stars of the sky. She takes off.

Three-Blades looks up, a little reluctant, but then takes after the Strider in an all out run, attempting to race the jackal to the destination.