7/15/2004

03:23 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Lucas
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 71 degrees Fahrenheit (21 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.06 and steady, and the relative humidity is 56 percent. The dewpoint is 55 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning No Moon phase (11% full).

Kenneth slides open the barn door, his black tank and hair wet with a washing. Dark eyes scan the immediate arena for occupants, before he heads for the much battered punching bag.

And perhaps predictable, Lucas is in the barn. He's leaning back against the hay, one of the old Time magazines in his lap, battered with a few pages missing. Kenneth is given a lopsided grin over the dog-eared pages, the magazine set aside. "Hey."

A few moments after Kenneth steps in the door slides open once more. In walks a female, a bit sweaty from the trek to the barn, but there's a smile on her face. Catching sight of the others Aiyana waves and greets with a quick "Yo!" as she makes her way inside and shuts the door behind her.

Thud. Thud-thump. Kenneth tests the feasibility of the bag holding up to his punches, and for a moment doesn't return Lucas's greeting. One further heavy stab of a fist into the bag echoes in the barn, and the Shadow Lord turns at the sound of the door opening again. Both ahrouns are regarded with a short nod of his head each, before the philodox goes back to intently taking out his tensions on inanimate objects, for now.

"So who spit in your oatmeal?" Lucas says to Kenneth, without really looking at him as he picks the magazine back up. Aiyana is given a brief wave, but he doesn't recognize her.

Aiyana watches Kenneth for a moment, then nods to Lucas as she heads closer towards the others. "So, what's up? Figured y'kids would be somewhere cool, like the movies or playin' video games. Not tucked away in some stuffy ol' barn."

Kenneth doesn't stop the bag battering at Lucas's question. "Didn't have oatmeal," he replies with a grunt to the cub, a left hook sinking deep followed by a right uppercut. "Had eggs." The philodox puts a hand on the swinging bag after that, glancing fully back at the two this time. His eyes narrow at Aiyana, as recognition does finally come up. "God, you too." A hand backhands the bag. "Figures. So?" This monosyllabic question seems to be the philodox's way of asking for introductions.

The lost cub gives a vague snort at the Shadow Lord's reply and goes back to flipping through his magazine, page by page. He's not really reading it, just looking at the outdated pictures.

Aiyana blinks and squints at Kenneth's reaction to her. "Aiyana Hernandez. She-Who-Strikes-Without-Fear, Ahroun Cliath of the Bone Gnawers. That good enough for ya, kid?" she replies as she finds a bale of hay or somesuch to sit down on. "Or was that too formal for ya?"

Kenneth shrugs, a line of anger shooting up his spine but quickly quelled. "Whatever floats your happy boat," he replies evenly. "Another full moon, hunh?" He glances over at Lucas again, just to see if the other cub had met Aiyana before.

Lucas glances back to Kenneth and hunches up his shoulders, before looking to Aiyana. "Haven't heard of you, I've met your elder, tho'." He says to the Gnawer.

Aiyana frowns a little. "hey, I don't know who shoves a silver rod up yer ass, kid, but what's got your panties in a twist?" She grunts softly, then nods to Lucas. "Yeah, Olga's generally around a bit more than I am. So you an Ahroun too, huh?"

Kenneth narrows an eye. "What? I don't have a problem with anyone here," he replies. The philodox turns back to the punching bag.

Lucas nods his head in reply to the Cliath, settling the magazine aside again with a faint roll of his eyes, probably in reference to Ken. "I'm Lucas Whistler, Fears-No-Darkness. Lost cub."

Aiyana smiles to Lucas. "Nice t'meet you then, Fears. Alwaya good t'see more new recruits around. Good luck with findin' a tribe, a'ight?" She just glances briefly towards Kenneth and huffs, shaking her head.

Tensing again at the spinnets of conversation between the ahrouns, Kenneth slams a fist into the bag again. Sighing out, he leaves off from the bag, just staring the swinging chain, silent as ever.

"Thanks." Says Lucas with honestly, letting out a faint sigh. "I need it." Hearing the bag end a round of beating, the younger Ahroun turns his eyes over towards the halfmoon and raises a brow. "Ken, don't make me kick your ass." He warns, mostly just to prick at the already prickled cub.

Aiyana chuckles softly, then glances between the two guys. "Geez. What is it with most of the cubs I've been runnin' into havin' some sort of issues lately, huh? I'm beginnin' t'think there's somethin' in the water around here."

"Kenneth," the Shadow Lord growls. "My name is Kenneth." He turns around, brushing a hand on his shirt. "Don't confuse me with some dickless plastic piece of shit." He doesn't comment further, returning to bag beating.

"M'sure they have ones with dicks. Ebay." Lucas nods his head, plucking free a piece of hay and chewing on the end.

Aiyana rolls her eyes. "Geez. If he was a girl, I'd swear he was PMSing," the Gnawer mutters, loud enough for Lucas to overhear, before she almost chokes trying to hold back a laugh. "Yeah, didn't they make those 'correct' ones that were gay or somethin'?"

Kenneth either didn't hear the Gnawer's mutter, or he's focused on the release of rage on the bag before him. Something just has him ticked, and he's not saying. Maybe he's PMSing. But it's certainly not his 'time of the month', as one could say.

Lucas shrugs his shoulders, "They got alternate versions of everything, you just gotta find 'em." He stretches out his arms and yawns, grunting at the end in an exhale of boredom. "So, what brings a Gnawer all the way out here?"

Aiyana doesn't go out of her way to keep an eye on Ken, but she does glance his way every so often. "Aww, wanderlust, I guess. Got tired of sittin' around the house, so I went for a walk. A long walk." She grins a little. "Sides, even a city mutt like me can appreciate the country every now an' then."

The punches come harder and faster, the Shadow Lord pretty much working on his footwork as well as technique without words to the other two. He might as well not be there, considering how much he adds to the conversation, but he's undoubtedly there. Physically, at least.

"I can understand that." Lucas says. "I don't mind it out here, 'cept it can get real, /real/ boring. Would it hurt to have a TV here, or a stereo...something?"

Aiyana chuckles. "Nah, see, that'd get y'all city-tainted, and we can't have that, now can we? You're supposed t'make up your own fun. Learn t'whittle or carve or somethin'! Do some more research on Garou stuff! Be productive!"

Kenneth finally slams the punching bag so hard, it makes his own hand hurt enough that he stops and checks it. Breathing quickened by the work out, he stops the bag before it swings back at him. The philodox wipes off some sweat with the back of his hand, momentarily glancing behind him at the two ahrouns.

"Productivity is so overrated." Lucas mumbles and pfts, smirking faintly. "Besides, I can't see myself whittling and floating my handmade sailboat in the sink. I think that'd just say 'Beat Me Up', like the little nerdy kid with the five dollar bill in the schoolyard."

Aiyana laughs at Lucas, watching Ken curiously for a second or so. "Oh man, then all you'd need is some really dorky glasses, a dressy shirt, and some highwater pants. Then you'd be all set, y'know? You'd be big pimpin' then, kid. The ladies wouldn't be able t'resist you."

Kenneth used to be that kid that got beat up, except he didn't just lie there and take it. Even as he's watched, he gazes right back, this time less hostile. He remains mute, even though his attention now has shifted from the bag to the two fullmoons.

Lucas was the kid who beat the kids up for the money. Well, once or twice, when he was really hungry and didn't have money for lunch. "Hell no." He says, wincing at Aiyana's suggestion. "I have pride, damnit."

Aiyana smirks. "Pfft. You'll lose that real quick around here. Well, y'might. Hope y'don't, dependin' on which elder y'get. Besides, pride can be overrated. Just don't get an ego. Those're really annoyin'."

Kenneth shoots a split second's worth of glare at the Gnawer after her words, and yet says nothing to counter it. The halfmoon seems determined not to fly off any handles today, as he makes his way to one hay bale apart from the other two and sits atop it, stretching an arm muscle.

"Well, I get to decide my elder." Lucas says, then laughs quietly. "So I get to decide who kicks my ass and crushes my dreams. Lucky me."

Aiyana smirks, paying little attention to Ken's unhappy look. "Yeah, then y'got no one to blame but yourself, kid. But don't worry, most of the elders seem t'be pretty decent. Though, some aren't. Hope y'know how to see the difference between the two."

"Wouldn't join the Walkers, if Joshua's an example of their elders," Kenneth decides to add in. Is he making some effort to be conversational? Maybe. The halfmoon finishes stretching out his arms, and now simply sits with a knee drawn up.

"The Walkers were the ones who found me. Namely, Joshua, with Natalie in tow." Lucas says as he turns his eyes towards Kenneth. "I honestly don't know. I don't think I'd much enjoy being in that tribe. Something about them just doesn't make me feel too comfortable."

Aiyana hmms softly, nodding in agreement to Ken. "Yeah, I don't know much 'bout the Walkers' current situation, but if I were you I'd avoid the Fianna like the plague. Seriously, man. Bad karma from those guys, y'know? Doubt you'd be accepted in the Wendigo, for obvious reasons," she grins, "And I'd say Gnawers but that's just me bein' biased."

Kenneth grunts, having put in his judgement on the Walker ahroun, doesn't make a plug for his own tribe. This subject has been batted around as much as he's smacked that punching bag. "An' the Get?"

"A possibility..." Lucas says, then adds, "Tho' it sounds like they need another Ahroun like the US needs another bad beer." He shrugs his shoulders, "I think I'll just wait for the lightning bolt to hit me in the head and inspire me."

Aiyana shrugs, "Don't know much 'bout the Get. Only met two of 'em. Jamethon and Emma. Jamethon's kinda quiet and gruff, but Emma loves t'chat. She's pretty friendly, all things considered." She rubs her chin as she thinks. "Well, there's the Striders, too. Don't reccomend Furies or Talons, for obvious reasons."

Kenneth shakes his head, exhaling out again with a ragged sigh. "It isn't a matter of whether the tribe needs you as an ahroun or not," he utters, gaze going off to the shadows of the barn. "No matter which one you choose, the aim should be the same. Fighting for this... Gaia. People do it different, 's all."

"Yeah, true..." Lucas leans back against the hay, crossing his arms across his chest. "Well, I was impressed with Jamethon, even after he beat the shit outta me. He's the first Garou here that's honestly impressed me. Not that everyone else is dissapointing or anything, but he's how I pictured this whole werewolf thing to be."

Aiyana nods to Ken. "Too bad we all can't get along like the Children want us to. But that's just too much of a pipe dream." She slumps a bit, then glances towards Lucas. "Yeah, Jamethon's a scary badass. Never seen him in a fight, but I bet he's good at it."

Kenneth slouches, leaning chin on knee as he stares distantly at the barn wall. "How did you picture 'this whole werewolf thing to be'?" he asks, sounding bland, but perhaps showing interest if only because he /did/ ask.

"He's good, he is." Lucas answers with sheer honestly, then looks to Kenneth. "Not sitting around bitching about things like this was high school." He says with a faint frown, "I dunno. Just not so... laid back."

Aiyana falls silent for a moment as she listens to the others. "Hell. I didn't even believe in this shit. Still didn't, even after I shifted. Then I got gutted and had to believe real quicklike," she comments in a low tone. "Sometimes I still don't fully believe it's true. Like it's more of a dream or somethin'. But at least I don't hate what I am." Her voice gets slightly darker on the last comment.

Laid back. Kenneth is hardly that, even if he looks like he's in repose now. "It's boot camp is what it is," he says. "Guttings, maulings, bone breaking not optional." He doesn't sound bitter, but is less than enthused, obviously. His black eyes shift towards Aiyana. "How long've you been a cliath?"

"Yeah, but they don't give us camos. We can change shapes instead." Lucas says with a smirk. "Though I much prefer the farm to barracks."

Aiyana shrugs. "Maybe a year now? Who knows," she admits. "But it's been a while. Long overdue for packin' and shit too. Feel kinda lazy, but I helped guard the Caern so that should give me a break for a short while." She grins faintly, then glances towards the floor. "I dunno. Camos might be nice. I mean, compare camos to Spirals. I'd much rather look like an army brat then go toe t'toe with those things again."

"Spirals?" Kenneth echoes. Someone must not have elaborated quite yet on the nature of the dark side.

"Think I heard someone mention those." Lucas says, frowning slightly. "What are they?"

Aiyana stares blankly at Kenneth for a moment. "Black Spiral Dancers. Once like us, but now they work for the Wyrm. Nasty fucks," she growls, her eyes flashing. "Tribe called the White Howlers took on a big bad Wyrmbeast once upon a time, and lost. Came back as the Spirals. They're everythin' bad y'can think about Garou, and then some. Hell, even some of us Gaian Garou slip between the cracks sometimes, an' they're eagerly waitin' t'snatch us up. Pray y'never run into one of the bastards alone. Hell, even with a pack they can be tough t'take down." The Ahroun shudders, as if something was crawling on her skin. "They look like us...sort of. Twisted, though, and tainted t'hell and back. Some look normal though, but they're all tainted."

The Shadow Lord's gaze deepens in its black seriousness another shade, turning rather icy. "And there are a lot of 'em," he adds in as an educated guess.

"More than us?" Lucas says, really one of the first time he's claimed himself as a werewolf, and all that Nation jazz.

Aiyana smiles, but there's no humor or such behind it. It's more of a silent snarl. "Oh, way more than 'a lot', kid. Far as I can guess, they're the biggest tribe, if only because they breed with anythin' that moves, includin' each other. And they recruit from our tribes. So they've got a limitless supply of cannon fodder t'toss at us, while we sit back and bitch amongst one another. They're all unified for one goal, we're too busy backstabbin' and bickerin' to get even one single thing done t'gether."

"But we're still here," Kenneth plainly points out. "Sitting around talking about it, rather than doin' somethin'." He's not complaining, persay; just thinking. Evil Garou. This is almost too expected to be surprising, for whatever reason. "If they're the biggest tribe, united under one goal and all, then they haven't gone on a killing spree... why?"

Aiyana manages a smirk at Ken. "Yup. How about that, huh? While we sit here, they grow in numbers, and taint more of Gaia. Steal more of our kin and our cubs, snatch away our elders who've fallen to Harano. Ain't that somethin'?" she asks, keeping her voice neutral. "And just cause they're crazy, kid, doesn't mean they're stupid. They ain't gonna waste their troops on an outright plan, oh no. They prefer t'mindfuck you. Whisper promises and offers y'can't refuse. Stalk y'and wear y'down. Get y'over time, not at once, though they can and will do that too if the odds are in their favor."

Kenneth turns his gaze away from the ahrouns again. "Genius at work," the cub murmurs, even if that genius is more like 'mad scientist' intelligent. "And there ain't any way to undo what they do?"

"Why kill us when they can recruit us." Lucas frowns faintly at Aiyana and shakes his head, having said it as more of a quiet statement than anything. He sees the reason behind it, but that doesn't change the chill the whole idea gives him.

Aiyana hmms softly. "Heard tales, rumors, 'bout a silver river somewhere in the Umbra. Can clenase anythin', I guess, long as that whatever survives the process. Could also try a Rite of Cleansin' on their asses, but most of 'em are too far gone t'be redeemed." Lucas is nodded to in approval. "Y'got it, kid. Why kill us when we can join 'em, provide them with more troops and...kids. I'd rather kill myself then be captured by them, personally." She looks back to Ken, "But I don't know of anyone who's ever managed t'clean up a Spiral. Don't know anyone who wants to, either. You'd need one hell of a powerful rite, and a crazy Theurge t'do it. Sounds like somethin' the Children would come up with."

Or a Shadow Lord. The halfmoon has a thoughtful look on his face, chin on the back of his hand, propped on his knee like a weird Thinker statue. "Some silver river that cleanses people too." The murmur is more to himself than the others. "So then, I take it you've faced 'em before." The pensiveness is gone in a blink, attentions turning back to the cliath.

Lucas glances briefly at Kenneth then it's straight back to Aiyana, waiting for her answer.

"Yeah, some silver river. Don't know anythin' else about it myself. You'd be better off askin' a Theurge or somethin'," Aiyana replies, as she smiles in response to his next comment. "I've seen 'em twice. Fought 'em once. First time I saw 'em I was still a cub. That was when they invaded the Caern and took it over. Second time was at the Hunt. I stayed back with a group to guard the Caern, and they snuck in by a moon bridge. Almost died too. That's where I got this." She points to the mass of scar tissue on her side and pokes it lightly. "One of 'em punched straight through my skin and grabbed ahold of my intestines. Had t'rip the fucker's arm off, then I snapped his jaw like a twig for good measure."

Kenneth looks down at the scar tissue, then back up to the cliath's face. There's a change in the way he regards her, if a faint one. For the moment, he doesn't say anything in regard to the war story.

Lucas grimaces as his scuffle with James now seems no worse than getting hit with a wet sack of potatoes. "Amazing what you can live through." He says, also eyeing the wicked scar, and that fullmoon part of him finds itself deeply impressed.

Aiyana chuckles softly. "Y'can live through worse than this. Ever see Reggie? That guy got really tore up. Almost lost his head, literally. Ask 'em about it sometime. This is nothin' compared t'some of the wounds I've seen on others. but yeah, y'can be killed. Don't ever think you're invincible. Ever. That'll just seal your fate. It's okay t'be a bit cocky, but know your limits. Ain't no shame in a tactical retreat, y'know?"

Kenneth arches a brow at mention of Reggie. "We've seen 'im." Oh, he knows he's far from invincible, but it doesn't discount how nifty the healing power of the Garou is. "Cutter-rhya, too, has a limp in his leg from some Great Hunt."

Lucas gives a lopsided, knowing grin when Reggie is mentioned. Yeah, he knows him. "Same Hunt?" The fullmoon cub asks with a quick of his brow.

Aiyana nods. "Yeah, that's the Hunt I was talkin' 'bout, the ones where the Spirals snuck in while we were all guardin' it. Had some damn fine Garou watchin' the place, though, so we sent 'em packin'. There was even a midgit Spiral. A midgit." She shakes her head, slightly amused at the thought. "Fast little bastard too. Goes t'show that they come in all shapes an' sizes. Makes it hard t'pick 'em out, unless y'know a gift like Sense Wyrm. An' even then that ain't always good enough."

Kenneth looks up. Again with the gifts. "So, assumin' they're like the dark side of the moon, these Spirals also have their bases yeah? HQs."

Lucas shakes his head again, "Midgits... worse fad to every hit the world." He mumbles, "Everywhere you look... nasty little bastards." Then, realizing he's gone on a muttering tangent, the lost cub hushes himself up.

Aiyana hmms. "Yeah, they got things similar to our Caerns. Hives, I think? Big underground places, real easy t'get lost in 'em. Never seen one, never want to, unless I'm blowin' the damn place up." She grins at Lucas, "Don't worry. They're not -everywhere-, just yet."

"Not according to MTV and Wonka," Kenneth rumbles. Hives. The talk of the bad guys just gets worse - and perhaps, intriguing in a morbidly curious way. "You said they came over here before." The halfmoon glances back to Aiyana.

Lucas lifts both brows up this time and settles himself against the hay, sensing a story. "When was that?"

Aiyana quirks a brow briefly, but nods to Ken. "Yeah, they've been here twice. Once when we lost the Caern, and durin' the Great Hunt. Hopefully they'll learn t'stay away, but I doubt it. Why, y'ain't gonna go lookin' for 'em are you?" She eyes Ken warily, then shakes her head.

Does he look that suicidal? Kenneth only inclines his head at the query. "/Lost/ the Caern?" He says nothing about the thought of looking for Spirals.

"Just tie some rotting meat to yourself, sounds like they'd come to you." Lucas says in an unhelpful tip and a frown.

Aiyana nods. "Yup. They beat the snot outta us and took over. It was a while before we got it back, but we eventually did." Lucas' comment is almost laughed at, but the Gnawer manages to keep a serious look on her face. For now.

"And the thing about the last law of the Litany?" Kenneth continues, definitely serious, considering it was drilled in that the last law was of the utmost importance.

"Well, they did get it back." Lucas points out. "If there's more of them than us, it's gonna be hard to keep all the bases covered."

Aiyana blinks, "What about it? S'not like any of us led them there. That I know of. And they fought like mad dogs. The Garou did all they could, but in the end they had to fall back and regroup. But in the end we overcame 'em, and that's why we can safely sit in this barn now. Not like we left the Caern t'rot or anythin'."

Kenneth hms to himself and rolls a shoulder. The past is past. "Gotta wonder what the place was like before the invasion."

Lucas offers the other Ahroun a nod of his head. "Better to regroup and plan a way to take it back, then give the caern to them in a suicide run."

Aiyana mms softly. "Bout the same it is now, 'cept I think we had a different totem. Could ask one of the older Garou, they'd be able t'tell you for sure." She nods back to Lucas with a hint of a smile. "Yup."

Kenneth glances between the ahrouns, and then back to the punching bag. Point taken. "Better not happen again, though," he rumbles out. "Cause then..."

"Then we'll have a lot of work to do to be of any use." Lucas says as he lifts a brow in Ken's direction, smirking.

Aiyana snerks, grinning. "I don't think they will. Not anytime soon, at least. And by then I'm sure both of you'll be Rited and impressin' the hell outta your elders. For now, though, just keep practicin'."

Kenneth has a time imagining what a Black Spiral would look like in punching bag form. "Sooner the better, I suppose. Riting, that is."

"Practice, practice, practice.." Lucas says as he finally pulls himself off the floor, stretching his arms. "Not like we got anything else to do... b'sides whittle sailboats."

Smiling, Aiyana gives a shrug. "Hey, I was a late Riter. Don't rush into it. Make sure you're prepared. Y'can die durin' it, y'know. I almost did durin' mine," she notes, snorting playfully at Lucas. "Hey, whittlin' might come in handy. I mean, what if y'get sent to prison? Y'could whittle a shiv outta your toothbrush."

Kenneth sort of looks at Aiyana like she's out of her mind. That too, passes quickly. "Like bars are going to hold in a Garou." The philodox smirks, and then looks to Lucas. "You all healed up?"

"Ah, but there is the Veil." Lucas holds up his pointer finger. See, point being made. "No breaking out of jail using illegal supernatural gifts." Then the finger turns, and points at Kenneth. "And yes, I'm healed. Why?"

Aiyana snaps her fingers at Lucas. "Give the kid a prize. Y'can't go around shiftin' in public, not unless y'wanna get smacked by another Garou for bein' stupid. Gotta play like you're still normal, y'know? Now, if y'know how to, ah, pick locks with a gift, that's a different story."

Kenneth snorts, standing up himself. "I didn't say to blow out of jail like this is a country western." The philodox stretches his hands out, and then looses them as he gives the ahroun cub a wry look. "I thought I'd ask for a rematch, from that day in the woods."

Cole steps into the barn, too preoccupied to bother looking to see if anyone's already there. True to his heritage, it would seem, there's a beer in his hand, already half gone. He blinks owlishly, looking up, when he /does/ notice people there. "Oh."

Lucas grins wide, toothy. "A rematch, eh? Hmmmm..." The Ahroun rubs the back of his neck, looking like he's thinking long and hard on it. "Do we have to do the hiding and seeking, or just skip that part and get to the mud wrestling?"

Aiyana smirks. "Mud wrestlin'? Sounds like questionable stuff t'me," she teases, waving to the lost looking Cole as he enters. "Join t'party, man! Room for all!"

"Hmph. No hiding necessary," the Shadow Lord replies, gaze leveling to the lost cub, for the moment ignoring Cole and Aiyana. A slight upward tilt of his lip melts away as the halfmoon rises and then sinks into the form of lupus.

Cole's lost expression melts away, a grin coming to the fore. "Thanks. Nice to know I'm welcome in the barn any time of day or night." He lifts his drink in salute, and finishes it off at a swallow. "Blegh. Tastes like piss, still." He glances at everyone gathered, and clears his throat. "So...I don't recall seeing any of you guys around here, before."

"Lupus? Huh, alright." Lucas chuckles and follows suit. One form to the other, until the wolf is selected. Click. The big black wolf flares out his coat, puffing himself up as he eyes the other wolf. Cole, for the moment, doesn't get any introductions.

Aiyana watches Ken shift, then turns her attention to Cole. "Ah, intros. Gotta love 'em. Aiyana Hernandez, better known as She-Who-Strikes-Without-Fear t'my tribe, the Gnawers. Ahroun Cliath t'boot. These scruffy lookin' mutts here are cubs. I'm sure they can intro themselves, if they're not feelin' lazy."

A large man, oddly clad in winter's clothes, fur, in spite of the season, enters the barn, prepared to scowl at idle cubs complaining of boredom. Reggie closes the door behind himself with a shove of his arm.

Kenneth will introduce himself later. Hell, he didn't introduce himself fully to Aiyana either. The Shadow Lord cub's hackles flare up as he bares his teeth in challenge, ears forward and firey golden eyes meeting icy blue. The two lupus form cubs might even be mistaken for the same tribe, given how similar they seem to appear. Stalking forward towards the ahroun, the philodox feints a charge, just to test.

Cole nods his head, respectfully. "Brian Cole, Duck-To-Water. Galliard of the Fianna, commencing my Rite of Passage." He brightens a bit at something or other, before looking over to spot the large man entering. "Well, this really is a party, isn't it?" The empty bottle is set aside.

And the Ahroun doesn't back down in the face of the mock charge, instead baring his teeth and looking like he's going to meet it. But Fears-No-Darkness doesn't, and begins to pace, inviting the other to begin circling. He shows himself off in typical wolf fashion - he's big, he's healthy, and he's got really long, sharp teeth. You are going to lose again. He mocks the Philodox with a growl.

Aiyana keeps an eye on the cubs in case things get out of hand, but she does smile brightly to Cole. "Well, g'luck with that, man! Hope it works out for ya." The newcomer Reggie is given a wave and a motion to come join the group and watch the sparring match.

Reggie turns away from the door, shielding a lighter with a hand as he lits a cigarette. Clicking the lighter shut, he looks up to regard the lupuses face-off, and he stands a moment, bemused. These are the cubs that were whining about boredom before?

The Shadow Lord growls back, circling in turn, making himself out to be just as big, healthy, strong, and quick as the other, if not more. You just try and win, the halfmoon growls in reply, confidence in his every step. Then, again, the halfmoon lunges - the charge is different. He's practiced.

Cole smiles at Aiyana. "Thanks much, Aiyana. Hey, I have a question for ya, if you don't mind my asking. Where do you Gnawer types hang out?"

The Uktena trails smoke as he steps over to Aiyana, frowning at Cole as he does so. "You're Riting?", he asks, then pointedly looks around.

Aiyana perks up a bit. "Nah, don't mind at all!" she replies, grinning. "We just took ove rthe Odeon. Ever hear of it? Used to be a porno theater," the Ahroun admits with an amused expression. "Now it's home. Hopefully. Welcome to the party, man," she comments to Reg once he ventures over.

As the Philodox charges, Fears-No-Darkness does too. He drives in low and hard, to throw himself against the Shadow Lord's chest and hopefully throw him off balance. Everyone else in the barn is ignored, free to take bets if they like.

Cole grins at Aiyana, grey eyes giving an excited glint. "Alright. Would you mind showing me the way there, sometime? Maybe I could come hang out there?" Someone actually WANTS to hang out with the Gnawers? That must be something fairly unusual. He looks over to Reggie, and nods. "Yes, sir." Best to be respectful, after all.

"What", Reggie asks, while keeping a wary eye on the fighters, "Are you doing for this rite? Trying to find all the Gnawers secrets?"

Aiyana's brows lift, but she nods cheerfully to Cole. "Sure, bro! I'd be glad to, but just t'make sure I'll ask Olga first. Doubt she'll have any prob with it, though, I just donna wanna overstep m'elder, is all." Reggie's comment gets a low chuckle from her, but she doesn't reply to it.

Kenneth's charge isn't halted, but rather intended for redirection. Using the ahroun's driving energy, the halfmoon twists his body, almost cat-like, so the brunt force of the ahroun's blow is sunk into a purposefully retracted leg. Fangs flash, and faced with the initial opportunity to get the first blood, the halfmoon strikes from above and to the side, directing his jaws towards the ahroun's shoulder.

Cole grins toward Reggie. "Sorry, I could tell you, but then they'd have to kill me." He may be grinning, but, it could be the truth. Still grinning, he looks to Aiyana. "Cool! Now that I'm allowed out of this place, I want to see some sites. And hey, an old theater, porno or no..."

The teeth are buried into flesh, but it does little to hamper the Ahroun. So it seems they're gonna play dirty. That's just fine by him. Fears-No-Darkness twists his jaws around and stretches them wide, striking like a caught snake to sink his fangs deep into the halfmoon's neck.

Reggie stares unamusedly at Cole, as he dangles his cigarette between the fingers of his good hand.

Aiyana smirks at Cole. "Well, it's nothin' impressive, but it keeps the rain offa our heads, and that's good enough for us." She glances up to Reg, "So what've you been up to, bro? Anythin' interestin'?"

Ah, but like the oily snake, the Shadow Lord doesn't keep his fangs in for long. Strike and release, there is no venom from the halfmoon's fangs; only the draw of blood. The lost cub's teeth graze his neck as he hops off to one side, only causing a set of scratches. The philodox growls low again, teeth bared this time with a slight dipping of pinkish red on the end of his muzzle. It seems the conversation happening is unnoticed.

Cole meets Reggie's gaze for a moment, and coughs. "Uh. Yeah. So." He looks back around the barn. "Huh. Those guys are gonna leave some nasty marks on eachother, if no one does anything about it." He doesn't sound horribly concerned, either.

In a strangled growl, the Uktena directs towards Cole, "The only other caern in Washington State, besides us, fell. I'm in no mood for your lip". Reggie leans forward and grabs Cole by the collar in a threstening gesture.

Aiyana gets to her feet, ready to shove Reg away from Cole if needed. "The cubs are fine. You two, however, should take a step back from one another. Specially you," she directs at Reg, her eyes narrowing briefly. "Let the kid go, man. It's not like he made the caern fall himself."

Relentlessly, no sooner does his first attempt miss and the Lord scoot away, than the lost cub drives in so as not to loose distance. He moves alarmingly fast, Rage burning in his eyes, and aims a snap at the other cub that, if successful, will close on his muzzle like a steel trap.

Cole gets grabbed and looks up to meet Reggie's gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." He's definitely sincere, from the tone of his voice. "But...ah...my throat sorta likes being not constricted. So...if you could let me down? Please?"

Reggie's fingers spasm, then he forces them to release the material with an effort. Clenching his hand to his chest, he turns away from Cole, and walks to the other side of the barn, cutting through the area used by the fighting cubs.

The two lupines continue their fast and furious battle. Kenneth only has just enough time to open his jaws back up. The lost cub's form moves eye-blurry fast, and his harness of Rage fueled speed helps earn him a draw of blood as fangs scrape along fangs and both muzzles are cut up, though the Slord's has slightly deeper slices. Undeterred, the halfmoon unlocks himself from the dangers of a jaw hold and sinks down low into what should be a playbow, but really obviously isn't. With his own blur of speed his charge up is coupled with a mean fullforce butt of his head right towards the underside of the ahroun's jaw to snap it shut and drive the full moon back.

Cole rubs at his throat, though there really wasn't any damage done. He'd hate to think of what would happen if the moon were any larger in the sky. He smiles shakily at Aiyana. "Thanks."

Aiyana sighs and shakes her head, glancing back to Cole as she follows after Reggie. "Can you watch those two, make sure they don't kill each other?" she asks, looking a bit frustrated. "And it's cool, just doin' my job." Smiling faintly, she goes to catch up with Reg. "Yo, man! You wanna talk, or get out some of that agression? Can't be healthy, keepin' it all in like that..."

Cole raises a brow. "Yeah. I guess I could...ah...bleed on them, or something, if it gets that bad." He mumbles this to her and turns to face the fighting.

Reggie pulls up short, and turns on Aiyana sharply. "I don't want company!" Never mind that he's inside the barn instead of somewhere more lonely on or aorund the bawn.

The halfmoon's head connects with the bottom of Luc's jaw, which sounds like an awesome collision of equally thick skulls. He takes a few steps back, snarling and bristling, but doesn't attack again right away.

Aiyana keeps her ground, standing up to her full height. "Coulda fooled me," she replies back in a calm voice. "Usually people who wanna be left alone go hide in the woods or somethin'. Now, you gonna settle down and get shit offa your chest, or what, bro?" She flinches at the sound coming from the fight, but doesn't look back.

Maybe it's the sudden tension added by the happenings amongst the others, but Kenneth's wolven instinct has kicked in and he's completely focused onto the fight. To go down is to lose, and he can't afford to lose. The halfmoon presses his thin advantage, form blurring again as his agility proves itself with a feint to one side, and attack from the other, this time another weighted lunge again, to knock the rival wolf off balance or better, onto his side.

Reggie glowers silently at Aiyana for several moments, before snarling. "Great idea. I'm goign to grab a bottle and be alone with it". Deliberately pushing Aiyana aside, he marches straight for the door.

Cole decides to wait and watch the fight, to see if it actually gets out of hand. For now, though, it's...well, relatively tame, at least. Until Reggie has to pass by him to make the doors. "I'm deeply sorry, sir," he says, in a somber tone, stepping well to the side. He tries not to give the elder any reason to think him mocking, or anything but well-meaning.

Aiyana tenses at the shove, but lets Reg walk off. "Had too damn many whiners lately," she grumbles as she heads back towards the fight, eyeing the cubs closely. "A'ight boys, y'might wanna consider tonin' it down and takin' a break, y'know?"

Steeling himself, Fears-No-Darkness does his best to keep his eye on the charging Shadow Lord, and at the right time lunges aside, to collide with only air and perhaps risk overthrowing his own balance. Should this happen, it's sure shooting the Ahroun will be ready to move in to try and get the halfmoon on the ground and keep him there.

Opening the door, Reggie pauses to cast a last glare about at people, before doing his best to slam it. The door bounces open again, and he kicks it shut. The sound of his stomping off his clear even through the door.

Cole turns around, eyeing the door for a moment. Then, he casts a great big honking middle finger at the door. "Nice to meet you, too. Sure, welcome to the Fianna hangout. Please, mandhandle their cubs. No, it's alright."

Kenneth doesn't connect, but his balance is solid - like he has a good knowledge of where all his parts and weight is being thrown about. Large paws dig into the dirt as the halfmoon whirls around, the sound of the slamming door cracking like thunder through the barn, accompanied with a hefty snarl. Night-dark fur still puffed out in aggressive posture, the halfmoon circles again, watching his opponent, unheeding of the other Garou in the vicinity.

Aiyana smirks faintly at Cole. "Aw, I'm sure after he breaks shit he'll be fine. Let 'em go." Her gaze moves back to the cubs as she shifts down to lupus herself, her tail giving a brief wag as her tongue lolls out of her muzzle. Play nice, boys.

Cole looks back, his anger, faint as it was, already fading. "Yeah, just fuming a little. Glad it's only no-moon, tonight." Seeing everyone else doing it, he shrinks down into lupus as well. I'm impressed, the wolf communicates.

Fears-No-Dark settles right into the circling, his tail held up in the air like a taunting banner. He snarls and snaps at the halfmoon, goading him, trying to prick his Rage. You can run, but you can't fight. All feet. No teeth. Run, coward!

Fearless-Strike quirks an ear, the metal in it jingling softly. Well, I'm sure it's just temporary. And impressed by what? Fears' taunts make her snort, but she doesn't comment on them.

Duck-To-Water glances toward Fearless. Impressed that they've been fighting this long, and not done anything really serious to each other.

All bark and no bite are you. Attack then! The Shadow Lord goads back, tail flagged just as high, ears pinned forward as he gauges the next opportunity to clash.

Fearless-Strike wuffs softly and wags her tail. Don't count your chickens just yet, she replies, stretching herself out before returning to an upright stance. They don't seem to be done just yet.

Duck-To-Water chuffs. They will hurt each other soon, yes. Just not yet. He goes to his stomach, stretching out on the floor to watch.

Fears-No-Dark bares his teeth in a wicked lupine grin, continuing to circle, almost casually. No doubt, tho', the Ahroun is good and ready to jump back into action, but he's taking the time to enjoy himself while he waits. You are angry I beat you. I was better. You were not.

The Shadow Lord cub, if one could read a smirk on a wolf, does just that. You took too long to find me, Weak-Nose. I got impatient and let you win. Pink tongue flickers out between his fangs, tauntingly.

Fearless-Strike shakes her head once, then flops down near Duck. Like most young men, they're all talk and no game, she comments in an amused tone.

Duck-To-Water looks offended, if a wolf can. Careful, the wolf warns, playfully, tail swishing over the ground.

Fears-No-Dark snorts and pricks his ears forward. You are a bad Philodox then. No patience. You let me win then ask to fight again? Liar. His tail begins to curl slightly, and obviously he's more intent on arguing like old women than actually fighting - thank you, dark moon.

Fearless-Strike chuffs and swats lightly at the other wolf with a paw. Well, it's true. All you males do is run your mouths, like gossiping old hens. You're worse than females, I swear.

Duck-To-Water rolls to his side as he's swatted, looking on through his amused grey eyes. So you say. I don't brag if I can't back it up, he asserts.

The banter ends as soon as the Slord senses the ahroun's slip of fighting will. In an explosion of offensive power and speed, the philodox roars with his attack, fangs going full force to snap at the ahroun's muzzle and face, even his forepaws getting in on the attack with sharp slices of the unretractable claws for any part of the ahroun that comes into contact. The sheer ferocity is something to be noted, if nothing else.

Mmm-hmm, Fearless-Strike replies, her stance both relaxed and pleased. She's in a good mood. I try not to brag at all. Wastes time when I could be using that energy to kick the snot out of my opponent. Less talk, more combat. Her attention's diverted by one of the black wolves crying out and she gets to her feet, the fur along her shoulderblades bristling in mild aggrivation. Do I have to seperate you two?

Duck-To-Water grunts. I don't brag in combat. I'm too busy fighting, then. It's before it that I have to brag. Which is mostly just with friends, it turns out. He stands up, as well. Come on, you two. You're both big, strong males. We're impressed.

Now that's what he was talking about. Fears-No-Darkness rises to meet it, baring his teeth in the face of claws that tear away his fur and jaws that snap at his face and tear his muzzle. Bunching his powerful hind quarters, the lost cub pulls an unexpected maneuver. Fast and terrifying, he erupts into motion, hulking up into the larger dire wolf form and using the superior weight to drive the other wolf into the ground.

Fearless-Strike snorts, annoyed, as she rises up into her large crinos form. She doesn't move to pull the two wolves apart just yet, but she does drum the tips of her right set of claws against her hip. ~Kids these days. No respect for their elders, I tell ya,~ she grumbles, flipping her ears back briefly. ~C'mon, guys. Break it apart before you two snap and start maulin' each other in crinos. That's the last thing I wanna deal with.~

Duck-To-Water takes a moment to look idly amused at the way Fearless looks, standing her warform, like a mother scolding children.

Things just got a whole lot worse, as the scuffle of lupus becomes clash of hispo. Blood is shed as the wolves clash, but with the small size of the lupus, the halfmoon slips like a snake around a rock, rolling away and up to his paws again. Anger blazes within. It's the ahroun who has the weight advantage, but it's soon met with the shift of the philodox to Hispo as well, his just a might slower without the Rage to burn in his veins and speed his change.

Fears-No-Dark looks like he still has energy to burn, and no desire to back down or lose. He stands tall and bristles, his teeth bared to the gums and a growl rolling from his belly.

Fearless-Strike snarls, then lets out a sharp, loud bark as she bares her fangs towards the cubs. ~ENOUGH!~ she bellows, stomping over towards them, clawed hands outstretched and ready to grab them both by the scruffs of their necks. ~Time out!~

Duck-To-Water watches on, now somewhat more impressed than amused. He's still in lupus, and probably the calmest one in the barn. He's on his belly.

The Shadow Lord snarls in return, wordlessly but full of accusation at the ahroun. And in a way, it carries some triumph. The ahroun shifted first, and this is a mild (very mild) victory. Luckily there's just enough time between the crackling of invisible lightning between the two black hispo, that Aiyana can slip in. Not that Kenneth hears her. His target is still, locked on the ahroun.

The older Ahroun's hand siezes the younger one's scruff, and just for a moment, the Rage sparks in his eyes. He makes a move to snap at her hand out of reflex, but realizing she is an elder, lowers his lips back over his fangs. Then, his eyes settle back on Kenneth, and growls lowly in his throat.

Fearless-Strike gives the pup a -look-, her eyes narrowing as she pushes him aside and steps between the two. ~Can we take a breather now, without one of you dodgin' past and goin' after the other? Because seriously, whoever tries that is gonna end up with my teeth in their throat, and I won't be gentle about it.~

Joshua comes in through the door at the bellowing, sliding in through the crack without opening the door too terribly far. The sight of all the Hispo's and such gives even the rage-whore a moments pause, as if evaluating if this was exactly a 'safe' place to be. Apparently he lacks to terribly large of a death wish, since he shifts right up to Crinos as soon as he secures the door shut behind him, the white Ahroun leaning on that war spear of his as he takes in the scene.

Duck-To-Water looks up as the door opens, spotting the white crinos. He has enough sense not to growl, but anyone reading his body language would find it tense. Tense as hell.

~You shifted,~ the Shadow Lord rumbles dangerously to the lost cub ahroun, not sitting at all, muscles twitching with the want to continue but restrained. Thank Gaia for the dark moon. With the entrance of yet another, the philodox's ear swivels, but he does not turn away.

Fears-No-Dark doesn't make a move to continue the fight, but remains posturing, and retorts. ~I did not frenzy.~ Which is amazing, in itself. ~You did not say we had to stay in one form. Be more specific, when you challenge.~

Fearless-Strike growls a warning to Kenneth-wolf, her fur starting to prickle up again. ~I don't want to hear it. You both fought well, so congratulate one another on a battle well done, and leave it at that. Otherwise I'm gonna get nippy.~

White Bear eyes the two Hispo, still leaning hard on the shaft. His posture changes at the words of the bone Gnawer, to something akin to irritation. ~What is going on here?~ He finally rumbles from his place by the door.

Duck-To-Water looks up for a moment, not nearly long enough to be construed as a challenge. A fight is winding down, the wolf asserts.

The halfmoon bridges his fangs together, a toothy, not particularly pleasant smile going to the lost cub. ~A re-match suggests same terms,~ the philodox replies before gazing up at the Gnawer cliath. Neither of the cubs looks to be backing down from one another - on the other hand, they don't look like they're going to kill each other either. The philodox looks back to the ahroun, silence enveloping him.

Fearless-Strike grunts softly to White Bear. ~They were sparring, but things started to get a little out of control. It's cool now. This one,~ she points to Kenneth, ~Is more like an angry raccoon or badger than wolf. Never relents, doesn't know when to quit. Head like concrete. Hard and hollow.~

Fears-No-Dark snorts back at the halfmoon. ~No terms were given then. Only to seek and find.~ He puffs up his fur again, licking his jaws with their splattering of blood.

White Bear eyes the scene. Finally, he snorts a gruff noise as he pads forward slightly, using the but of the spear like a walking stick. ~You know the rules, Strikes-Without-Fear. Firewatcher Rhya says unless they are of your tribe, you may only prevent them from killing each other. They are free to fight short of that.~ Dangerous words, but White Bear isn't thinking about that right now.

Auggie comes in from the barnyard, wondering what all the commotion and growling he hears is about. Opening the door with an audible creak, he peeks in, and notices he's standing behind crinos White Bear. *Very carefully* he clears his throat, to alert the Walker he's behind him, closes the door with a little slam, and limberly manuevers around him to get a view of what's going on in here.

The Shadow Lord glares at the Gnawer cliath, growling wordlessly though the wolf in him demands he submit to her because of rank. Licking at his cut up muzzle as well, he snorts at her and turns to pad further into the barn. A glance is sent back to Fears-No-Dark. ~Next time then. Good fight.~

~Same.~ Rumbles out Fears-No-Darkness, only turning away once Kenneth has. He moves over to one side of the barn and sits, finally taking the time to realize there's quiet a crowd in here.

Duck-To-Water pushes himself to his feet with a grunt. With a roll of lupine eyes, he moves toward the door. Good night. I need to sleep. Fearless-Strike-Rhya, would you ask Olga if she minds me coming to Odeon? She knows me already, I believe.

Fearless-Strike gives White Bear a displeased look. ~I didn't want to risk the chance they might fly off and frenzy on one another. If protecting cubs is illegal now, then by all means, punish me,~ she snorts in reply as she takes a couple steps away from the cubs, nodding to the cubs as they decide to play nice for now. She then glances at Duck and smiles toothily. ~I will do so, next time we run into one another. But I doubt she'll mind. Rest well and once again, good luck on your Rite.~

Duck-To-Water wags his tail, and moves toward the door. Thank you, Fearless-Strike-Rhya. With that, the wolf assumes human shape, and walks out the door.

White Bear snorts, mirroring Fearless-Strike's displeased look. ~It is a small moon. The risk is small. You are protecting them from nothing. And you are free to argue with the Alpha if you wish. However, until then you must follow the rules laid forth.~

Auggie just moves over to the side, to allow Duck-to-Water to pass by, eyeing all of the Garou present thoughtfully. It seems a bit inappropriate now to greet all those he knows - just a little tense in here. For some weird reason, he decides Fearless-Strike is the "safest" person, and raises a hand in quiet greeting to her, while moving to take a seat on a nearby haybale.

Fearless-Strike just grunts in reply to White Bear, turning instead to greet Auggie as she shifts back down to homid. "Yo. Seems like this is the spot t'be tonight, huh? You'd figure at this rate someone would've rolled in a keg or somethin'."

Eventually Kenneth shifts back to lupus and hops up to a haybale not far from his very opponent, licking away at some wounds within reach. The Shadow Lord pays the others little mind, albeit an ear flips towards the lost cub, and the other left free to swivel on axis. It's like there wasn't even a fight.

Auggie smirks. "A keg, yeah? Thought you were a Gnawer, not a Fianna," he shoots back to Aiyana. "But... there was a fight?" he wonders with dull interest, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and rest his head on two fists.

A fight? Of course not. Why would anyone be fighting? Lucas has resettled himself back into his breed form, just letting himself bleed slightly from cuts and punctures. It doesn't bother him, really, loitering on the hay like he's doing.

White Bear grunts, sniffing at the (to him) good smelling cub, squinting in unmasked curiosity. ~Who is this one?~ He rumbles out loud, to no in particular. He silently indicates Auggie. ~I do not believe I have met him.~

Aiyana pffts. "Like Gnawers don't appreciate a drink every now and again? Sides, who's gonna pass up a free keg? Gnawers rarely pass up anythin' free, man!" she replies, grinning. "Yah, these two bad boys decided they wanted t'flex a bit of testosterone an' so forth." Glancing to White Bear, then to Auggie, she shrugs and decides to let him answer for himself.

The Shadow Lord rumbles that it was simply a fight to test our strengths and weaknesses. Practice. Nothing more. The halfmoon glances to the lost cub. Maybe he thinks the same way?

Auggie hmphs and shrugs, taking Lucas' apparent wounds to be a yes. "Happens." Looking back to White Bear, he stands at full posture and takes a few steps toward the Glass Walker. "Auggie Kvintos, Dark-As-Night. Ahroun and cub of Unicorn's children." He begins to offer a hand to shake, but thinks better of it seeing the crinos claws, and instead uses the hand to scratch his knotty mop of curls. Yes, he meant to do that all along.

White Bear stoops down a few feet, nose 'whaffing' at the top of the other's head as he sniffs the other. ~White Bear, Full Moon Cliath of the Glass Walkers, soon to pack under Bear.~ He offers to the cub, still sniffing. ~I understand you have been training under my Athro and Alpha-to-Be, Pierces the Ice Rhya.~ He finishes, straitening up to his over eight feet.

Lucas doesn't introduce himself, even as th name-slinging begins, and just leans back against the hay like nothing had happened. He even looks ready to take a nap, lazy louse.

Aiyana listens to the two guys talk, then looks back to check on the cubs. Seeing that everything's calm again, the Gnawer dusts her hands off and starts to head for the door. "Well, as lovely a night as this was, guys, I should be headin' home. Someone's gotta keep an eye on the place." Smiling, she waves to the gathered Garou and goes to head out of the barn.

Kenneth in turn, continues to tend his wounds lightly, though since most of them are on his muzzle, there's not much he could do about that. Ears turning towards the Walker and the Coggie cub, he glances at Aiyana and rather stiffly, chuffs a good night at her.

Auggie lets himself be sniffed by the crinos, standing stock still as he is sniffed. Taking a step back to see the towering White Bear better, while keeping his actual gaze down, he nods. "Yeah, that's right. I have been training with Pierces-the-Ice-rhya for a while, since Burns-the-Wyrm left this sept," he says matter-of-factly. "Gonna pack under Bear?" he inquires, again his tone even and merely inquisitive. He raises a hand to Aiyana as she moves to exit, nodding to her.

White Bear indicates he will to Auggie silently, before leaning hard on the spear again. He seems to size up the cub for a long moment. ~You trained under Burns the Wyrm as well, then?~ He finally asks.

Lucas uses the end of his shirt to wipe some of the blood from his face, not really caring if the once-expensive article gets stained. Who really cares, out here? Once done, he looks across the barn to Kenneth for just a moment, but doesn't say anything.

Auggie grunts an affirmative. "Uh-huh. For... oh, a few months. I'm glad to have had Get training, taught me how to take pain and fight through it," he says, his voice cracking slightly as he recalls the memory. "Two teachers, from two really extreme tribes. A little weird, but if nothin' else it makes me more well-rounded," he muses, his corners of his mouth upturning slightly.

Kenneth's attentions look like they're laid on the two ahroun at the front of the barn at first, listening in, but soon enough he catches the remnants of the lost cub's gaze at him. Finally thinking there's no way this blood on his muzzle is going to get off with a lupus tongue, he shifts to breed form and uses his hand instead. He too, doesn't say a thing to interrupt.

White Bear grunts, looking over to Lucas for a moment, before back to the Gaian. ~I trained under Defiant Storm Rhya for a short while.~ He notes, as if to state how unimpressed he is. He shoots a look over to Kenneth as well, before once again to Auggie. ~Would you care to show me your form? My Athro and Alpha-to-Be left me curious about your skills.~

~That...~ White Bear adds. ~...was an invitation to spar.~

Auggie keeps his body language casual, but manages to relay the amount of respect that's required of him by keeping his eyes lowered. "You wanna try me? Sure. I could use the practice, and it's a new moon - couldn't pick a better time." The cub's form flows up into Crinos, seemingly oblivious to the Shadow Lord and lost cub behind him.

Kenneth sees that look, chin tilting slightly in regard to it. The glance back, travels over to Lucas, then to the cliath ahroun. "If that look was an invitation, I'll take you up on it."

White Bear paces back, throwing glances mostly at Kenneth at this point. ~I did not ask, no. I did not want to stomp on you while I spar with Dark As Night.~ White Bear does not seem too thrilled about Auggie's name, but he doesn't say anything about as he stops about a dozen paces back and comes to a ready stance: spear in either hand-paw and in front of him.

Kenneth snorts. "Whatever, man," he replies then, rolling a shoulder to loosen it up.

Dark-As-Night glances over to Kenneth as White Bear addresses him, flicking an ear at the miscommunication. Then, he turns his full attention to the imposing, spear-wielding Crinos. Any dissatisfaction in the Walker's tone about his name is passed over without concern from the Gaian. He stalks around the Crinos, moving lithely, not expecting the Cliath to let himself be flanked, but wanting to keep him moving. He feigns a low blow toward's White Bear's knees, sweeping up with his claws to attempt to grab for the spear.

Lucas glances over towards Kenneth with a sigh, "Hey man, wanna go get something to eat? I've had enough barn for awhile."

Kenneth at first watches the fight's beginning, before deciding yeah, he could use a drink. The Shadow Lord nods, standing up from his haybale and coming down. The barn's big enough that he doesn't worry about getting crinos thrown at him immediately, at least. "Yeah. Think there's still some mac 'n cheese in the fridge."

Lucas pulls himself up off the hay, swabbing away a smidge more blood, and locates the best path to skirt the Crinos and make his way for the door and out.