12/2/2004

11:12 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Center of the Caern
This is the central point of the 30-meter-wide clearing. The ground is a mixture of dark, rich, muddy soil mixed with clay, though there is an occasional patch of grass. At the center rests a large white boulder, immovable even by the strongest crinos. The boulder is shot through with streaks of quartz that produces scintillating colors when light strikes it just right. It is, for lack of a wholly adequate word, beautiful.
Around you, twenty yards in every direction, stretches the caern. To the southeast, a waterfall plummets over the edge of the chasm into a small pool in the caern; nearby, to the southwest, steam comes from cracks in the ground, perhaps some of the same water. Northwest, a rocky spar juts out of the ground at a low angle, showing a sloping but smooth top. The chasm walls narrow a bit to the northeast, causing some of the mist to swirl in that area.
Contents:
Yi
Emma
Bites
Isaac
Horace(#2629PJceq)
Alicia
Severs
Olga(#4061PJceq)
Finds-The-Path
White Bear
Holds-the-Line
Megan
Obvious exits:
Rock Slab Windy Spot WaterFall Steam Vents

Holds-the-Line watches the cockroach until it disappears with an inaudible *crack*; her head snaps up to goggle at White Bear, then Bites, then White Bear again. The Galliard whines once, confused, then backs another quick step away from Megan.

Horace holds his breath; he doesn't know what to say or do, once Bites gives her translation. His hands ball up into little fists and his teeth dig into his lip. The boy watches White Bear for his reaction, silent and uncertain, his expression strained.

Severs dips his head. You have been released.

Kenneth makes his way towards the center of the caern alone, lightly misted from the steam cooling and dewing on his clothing. Seeing the other Garou gathered, he clears his throat once to announce his presence and hangs along the outer edge of the crowd. The Slord spots Severs however, and his eyes fall upon his ranking tribemate.

Megan blinks once in reaction to this news, but then looks between Bites and Severs, since he spoke up. ~Released, what does that mean?~ she asks cautiously.

Olga stares down at her bag of celery after the spirit's disappearance, she doesn't once look up at the Guardian pack. Her staring is almost obsessive; after a few seconds silence she lurches her hand out to grab for her baggie, and the silence is replaced by crunched celery.

Yi slips down from a differing direction, looking like she is in a bit of a hurry. The Gnawer slows when she spots the crowd as well as her packmates and lowers her head a level apologetically, especially when she sees some of the confused or uncertain faces on the gathered Garou.

Bites is hesitant to answer Megan at first, but after another look to Severs, and then to White Bear, she says, ~Cockroach has taken revoked his blessing and taken back his gifts. He wishes White Bear good luck in the future...potential partners.~

"Looks like White Bear got kicked out." Alicia says rather bluntly as she plants her hands behind her in the grass, glancing over to the Ahroun with some concern in her eyes.

~I understood that White Bear could... possibly... rejoin if he changed his stance on the Scab?~ Pathfinder says to Bites, seeking clarification on this alternative interpretation from the other Spirit-Talkers present.

Isaac turns his attention fully to his packmate and makes himself smaller to lick at Karl's muzzle, concerned, but not clear about what or why.

Severs glances at Pathfinder. This seems to be an option. If it were wished.

Holds-the-Line holds herself as though she might break and run at any second. Her ears flick first to one Theurge, then another as they discuss the spirit's visit and message.

Bites agrees with Pathfinder by lowering her muzzle, but there is also in her aspect a look that suggests she believes White Bear would more willingly wear a pink tutu and dance at the center of the caern.

Emma lets out an audible huh. Her knees pull up to her chest in her seated position and she lowers her chin down to rest on them, watching everything from a quiet, spectator-like way.

White Bear twists his path into a 'u' as the spirit disappears at the Caern's centre. He curves to the waterfall, skidding to a halt at the water at its base to stare down into his own reflection.

Yi slips up beside Alicia, voice lowered to a whisper but no doubt audible to the lupus. "What's going on?" she asks, looking from face to face.

Megan looks from the theurges to Holds-the-Line briefly, giving the Galliard a scowl, before turning to look to White Bear. Gently, in a voice only her packmates and Isaac have probably ever heard her use before, she calls out to White Bear, ~It sounds as if you will need to think once again where your place is, Ahroun, and if you choose to remain in the Woods, to once again consider a new tribe, like we talked of in the springtime. If you need guidance, I will listen.~

Alicia leans over and softly whispers to Yi. "Looks like roach came and visited White Bear, said that um... his outlook on the city is no good and that he can't be one of 'em. So .. he has to.. either become a Walker and accept the city in his heart, or find a new family." Her voice is soft, whispering to her Gnawer pack mate.

Kenneth slowly folds his arms over his chest, flat expression gradually fading into a mild frown as he finds out details from observing. Another quiet throat clearing later, he chooses a spot to better watch from, shifts to his lupus form and lies down upon his stomach with ears turned towards the gathering.

Bites's ears lay flat. ~Bear, wait,~ she says, moving to catch up with her ahroun packmate. Megan's offer makes her stop and look back, uncertain now whether she should follow or not.

Horace's eyes move more rapidly than they're accustomed to between Bites and White Bear; there's panic in them, like he's not entirely sure what's going on. He doesn't say anything but he slinks slowly after White Bear towards the pool, keeping at a distance, not knowing whether he should offer comfort or peace. His face is awkward and twisted.

Finds-The-Path's eyes are fully on White Bear, even as he returns a lick to Isaac's ear.

Yi's eyes widen and go directly to look at White Bear, before she squats down and shifts her gaze back. "I guess it was a matter of time before something like this would happen."

Megan gives Bites a non-commital, right-shouldered shrug for the look, but then looks back at the rest of the Garou, giving Yi a smile of greeting that is on the verge of a more martial baring of teeth. ~ So, uhm, we just finished the Opening of the Inner Sky. The next part is the Cracking of the Bone.~

White Bear, by then, shimmers and disappears through the gauntlet.

Bites continues on toward her packmate, padding quietly to the water and disappearing into the umbra.

Severs whuffs and lies back down.

Horace follows the rest of his pack, though it takes him a little while to smoothe out his worry and concentrate on the Umbra.

Yi returns the smile with a wilted version of her own, no doubt made uncomfortable by something else. Her squat turns into a sit as she rocks back onto her heels and tries to relax on the ground, watching the Guardians disappear one by one.

Holds-the-Line's teeth click together several times, as if she were chewing an intangible bone. She watches first White Bear, then the other Wendigo disappear before reluctantly dragging her attention back to the Alpha, her ears flat and crouching submissively.

Horace follows the rest of his pack, though it takes him a little while to smoothe out his worry and concentrate on the Umbra. It takes him even longer to realize he's not going anywhere, but he keeps on trying, deep furrows nestling into his forehead.

Dagger's-Edge contents himself as best he can, tail flicking lightly as he watches one scene after the other before returning his attention onto the sept alpha. A paw rises to bat at his muzzle, but that doesn't stifle the wide yawn which escapes him.

It's back to business for Pathfinder, now that the spirit and (most of) those it has affected most have departed for The Other Side. He turns his eyes back to the Alpha.
Isaac licks his nose. Though he glances often toward the waterfall, he's mostly focused once again on Megan.

Megan blows out a whuff of breath through her muzzle, then pulls her shoulders straighter under the coat. ~The Cracking of the Bone is the time of the philodox. It is the time for the Truthcatcher to mediate disputes so that all know the outcome, oversees the business of the Sept, for Challenges to be announced. We use a bone, a real bone, to symbolize the order our auspice balances the rage with, and it is traditional for only those holding the bone to speak, else the Cracking fall into chaos. Like all parts of the Moot, we use the Mother Tongue to present the issues, so all may understand. After the Cracking, it is the time for the Galliard, and the Stories.~ And here she looks to Holds-the-Line. ~Would you speak on that part?~

Holds-the-Line blinks, ears flicking momentarily forward as she's called on. Stories keep us connected to our past, she explains, slowly gaining confidence as she speaks. They remind us of our own deeds and those of ancient heroes. They are the way the Sept knows of what happens here at the Caern and elsewhere, and often the only way news is spread.

Yi looks back to the lesson distractedly, but raises a hand as if she were in actual class and sitting behind a desk.

Holds-the-Line catches Yi's hand out of the corner of one eye and turns her head toward the Ragabash. Stiffly, she asks if she had anything to add.

The sounds of the moot reach him distantly, and Horace slowly seems to come to the realization that he's not going anywhere tonight. Concentration on the boy's face is replaced by frustration, his little hands ball into tight fists and he stares down at the pool like he wants to punch it. His face turns red as he looks up at the others, and he sinks down behind the pool, hiding his shame from the assembled Garou, and he stays like that.

"Just a small question," Yi elaborates when she's caught the attention of the speaker. "Who was the first to determine the order of things done in the moot?"

One of the Walker's ears flicks backwards. Follows the White Bear told them in the proper order.

Yi shakes her head. "I meant..." she states a bit more slowly, trying to rephrase her question. "Who, in the times now past, determined that the moot would follow such an order? It is more a question of, who taught the first Garou that all moots should be this way?"

Megan's face splits into a wide grin, but then looks to her Galliard packmate and Holds-the-Line with bemusement, waiting to see if either of them answers.

Holds-the-Line understands now, and says so with an embarrassed shuffling of her paws. She adds further that she does not know, though likely the Fianna would claim so. This last is added with an apologetic tilt of her head for the Sept Alpha, lest she take offense.

A slight grin tugs upon the corners of Alicia's lips. "I suppose it'd be a good argument between the Fianna and the Silver Fangs, of who created the first moot and thus created each role and the way it is shaped. I don't think it was any one person." She says with a lick of her lips. "Perhaps, if one was to guess, the first wolf of each tribe, when they had their first meeting, after the dawn of man."

Yi smiles back at Holds, but dips her head to the galliard's answer. "There are many stories lost to the Garou, I would think, but I think it is very interesting. The way moots are called here are not the way moots are performed elsewhere." She scratches the side of her face lightly, glancing to Alicia.

Megan gives Holds-the-Line a measured look, but then blinks at surprise at Yi. ~They do things differently from the traditions? Oh, Bone Gnawer Septs?~ she guesses.

Yi's mild scratching turns into a small rub at the back of her neck. "Well, more like, in my home sept, it was told to me of many different kinds of gatherings. Not all of the different shapeshifters hold to the same rules. I would think not even the Stargazers there have such... sections of their moot." Her eyes slide down to the grass at her feet.

Dagger's-Edge tilts his head at the Walker, tongue momentarily flickering out to lick the side of his jaw. He rumbles a vague thought aloud that wolves would not stand to such rigid structure, but wolf-changers would think up such a thing because of their human half. Humans are all about making things go in order, fitting into categories.

Olga offers Megan a look that, before it quite gets to her, starts off as a dull almost-glare, but immediately upon reaching the Elder's form it scampers back to her lap to focus on her blankets. Slowly it quirks into a faint grin, and she grumbles rather good-naturedly, "Yeah. 'Least we serve drinks."

Megan levels a look at Dagger's Edge which is matched with a set jaw, her tone cool as she says, ~And so are the philodox. The last part of Moot is the Revel,~ she sweeps on with, ~the time of the ahroun, when the tensions of Stories are unleashed in the hunt. The Revel may take many forms, but is frequently a clearing of the Wyrm and Weaver on the edges of the Bawn, or the hunt for a spirit called an Engling, which sacrifices its form to infuse us with a stronger connection to Gaia. And when the Hunt is done, the Moot is ended.~

Holds-the-Line gives herself a good shake and sits once more, not answering the Shadow Lord's thinking-out-loud.

Dagger's-Edge sticks out a bit of his tongue's tip to Megan in mild apology for noting his opinion, before settling his head on his forepaws and silently watching again. Hackles that threaten to lift are smoothed and kept flat with a snort from the Lord.

Yi looks around again, before slowly raising her hand again. "If the Revel is not performed, what becomes of the night's Moot?"

~We miss the chance to share in the grace of Gaia,~ Megan answers with a slight edge to her voice, but less than her previous words. ~And the Caern is not re-charged in the energy we give to it. We are all lessened.~

Yi nods slowly at the Alpha's answer, but falls silent afterwards with gaze going out to the others.

Megan scans those still here, then lets out a huff of breath which comes deep from within her chest. ~I want to thank all of you for the honor of showing, and I hope that this was good information to take back to your tribemates and the others of the Sept who need it.~

Severs rises slowly to his feet and shakes himself. This was a useful moot.

Holds-the-Line offers after a moment, and with a hesitant lifting of one paw, to share the story of Bends-the-Rules-While-Smiling. Since neither he nor Endures-Pain is here to speak.

Alicia flashes a grin to her pack mate, then pushes upwards to her feet once more. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Stuff like this brings people together."

Dagger's-Edge rises as Severs does, the philodox looking towards the Lord theurge with clear intent of attempting to get his attention.

Yi smiles and nods once again too, glancing over to Holds-the-Line briefly before a curiosity overcomes her. "What sort of story?"

Olga stops munching on her celery long enough to raise her hand in half-wave to the assembled, as if to say, `goodbye, and thanks for all the celery`. She doesn't rise up though: she seems quite comfortable nestled in her blanket. She looks over at Holds-the-Line when she offers her story though, suddenly curious, leaning forward and scratching at an itchy spot behind her ear. "That's the surly one, right?" she asks, trying to nail down the deed-name.

Finds-The-Path chuffs a sincere Thankyou to Megan. He has learnt from the experience.

Alicia settles herself back down to her knees as Natalie appears to be heading into a story, then leans into Yi to get comfortable.

Isaac turns a tight circle and heads over to the waterfall.

Holds-the-Line stands with another shake that sends her swiftly back through hispo and crinos, and back into her breed form. "Marcus, yes." She hooks her thumbs into her pockets and shifts so that she's half-facing Megan, and half-facing the others. "He got back from New York on Monday. Everything -seemed- all right, at least that I could see. I was planning on having him sniffed here, actually. But then Scratch came to me on Tuesday, oh, about six or so, and said Marcus'd been acting weird."

Severs glances at his tribe mate, and at the story teller, indecisively.

With the class done and the temperature near freezing now that it's later in the night, Megan shivers and shifts as well, but down to lupus, the wolf form sporting a thick winter coat. Her breath mists the air as she moves over to flop down next to Alicia, spine against the Galliard's legs, her ears pricked alertly towards Natalie. In this form which hides so little, though, some of the contempt she feels is visible.

Alicia reaches out and runs her fingers through the Lupine's fur at her legs, giving her a good scritching behind the ears, her attention focused upon the Glass Walker.

Yi gets an even worse chill with mention of Marcus. The Gnawer ragabash doesn't seem to like the mentioned Walker very much, and Holds' introduction just makes things seem more suspicious. She waits for the revelation on what was strange about the halfmoon's behavior.

Nat turns to follow Megan, waiting until the Philodox is comfortable before continuing. She appears oblivious to the opinion most people have of her tribe's elder. "Well, he came out of his office and was ranting about order and chaos and stuff - granted, the room was a mess, but hey, I'd been packing, right? Anyway, he started to lose it so Scratch distracted him and I took Marcus out, then called Jana. She came over and checked him for Wyrm taint, but didn't find any. So then we thought, well, if not Wyrm taint, what about Weaver? We decided to run a Rite of Cleansing on him. Had to bring him out to the Bawn, since there wasn't enough privacy back at our place."

Dagger's-Edge turns his golden eyed gaze from his tribemate to storyteller, and slowly sits back down. Clearly, he can be patient for a little while longer.

Firewatcher's ears flatten to her skull. Did you speak to the Warder before you ran the Rite on the Bawn?

Yi narrows her gaze, trying to puzzle out the situation before Megan notes about contacting the Warder. The ragabash glances back to Nat, brows arching like she was watching a tennis match and things just got more interesting.

Natalie shakes her head with a wry little twist to her mouth. "We didn't. Frankly, I didn't think of it. I just wanted to get him fixed, you know? Anyway, as Jana sprinkled him with the pure water, it started to bubble and fizz. Ate through his clothing like it was battery acid. And when we howled..." She pauses, her eyes going vague for a heartbeat and head shaking in memory. "When we howled, he screamed, only it sounded like... like rush-hour traffic, like electronics' squeal, white noise, car horns. Like all of that, and more, coming out of his mouth. Then all of a sudden he went limp. Unconscious. Couple minutes more and he came to, only he wasn't really all there. Scratch and I bundled him back to my place and we watched over him. So yesterday, when he woke up, he was fine. Better than fine. All clean and shiny and... squeaky."

Dagger's-Edge quirks his head, a small whine of question escaping the halfmoon. Squeaky?

Firewatcher's ears flatten. Like Ever-Grinning. And the mule.

Severs pricks up his ears.

Yi looks back to Firewatcher for her reaction, but mention of Ever-Grinning makes the ragabash furrow her brow. "So... what does this mean? The Weaver possessed him?"

Alicia blinks her eyes slightly. "Damn, like the Borg or something." She rubs at her ear slightly in thought, glancing over to Yi.

"Squeaky-clean?" Nat offers to the Shadow Lord before shifting back to Firewatcher. "Pardon? Ever-Grinning and the mule?" She doesn't add a verbal 'ma'am', but it's there in her posture and tone.

"Ever-Grinning, our pack mate has a metal hand. Got it yanked off awhile ago, so he has a new one.. a fetish." Alicia explains, glancing to Firewatcher. "But.. I don't know about the Squeaks thing."

Yi ahs slowly, but this doesn't seem to make the ragabash any more or less settled. "But Ever-Grinning does not sound like traffic or computer modems," she notes.

Firewatcher's tongue licks her nose in a nervous gesture. Not Squeaks. The other mule. I do not remember his deed name. A Galliard of the Fianna. The Philodox looks distasteful at that as well, then looks from packmate to Natalie. Ever-Grinning's hand was lost when he was taken by spirits of the Weaver, along with the Galliard mule. The metal hand he has was given to him by the Bright Ones.

Dagger's-Edge isn't satisfied with the Walker's explanation, but looks onto Firewatcher with interest in his perked up ears and stiffer posture.

Olga's attention is certainly piqued, and she fluffs out her blanket and settles her mouth down on a bit of green, clenching it tight between her teeth but not chewing. She looks at Natalie curiously, waiting for things to explain themselves. When they do she asks, with a raspy and curious voice, "So, uh, what done it? I know Wyrm-taint alright, but how's the Weaver do it?"

Severs cocks his head. Much in the same way the Wyrm does. Or the Wyld.

Natalie pulls one hand from a pocket to rub at her cheek. "Metal hand?" she inquires, clearly fishing for the story. "I didn't know he -had- a metal hand, much less that the... Bright Ones? gave it to him." She glances over at Olga's question. "Huh? Oh, what he told me was that he was out patrolling, and then lost a chunk of time. He didn't think... well, no. There was this voice in his head, talking to him. Nice and sweet at first, then more and more, um, controlling. As time went on. And it told him not to tell anyone about the missing time. He said it was like being bundled up in sticky webs. That was a few weeks before he came back home, I guess."

Yi looks between her packmates with an uncertain expression before looking back to Natalie. "What was he doing... in New York?"

Firewatcher stretches her nose out towards Yi, indicating another time, and settles down to look between Glass Walker and Bone Gnawer ragabash for the answer.

"He'd been called back by Family," the Walker explains, tucking her hand back into the pocket of her bomber jacket. "The muckity-mucks had this... thing - that's all I know, he couldn't tell me - that they were trying to keep from getting out of hand, and needed people in the know to do grunt work. So that's mostly what he did. He went in the first place because, well, better to help take care of the problem when it's small than wait for it to grow big and strong, right?"

Yi squints an eye again, but tilts her head to a side. "So, then, does this mean Marcus is back to his 'usual' self? Or is he still acting strangely?"

Natalie frees her other hand to waggle it in a so-so fashion. "Both. I mean, I don't think he's Tainted any more, but he isn't the bigoted Marcus I know and love. But a Cleansing's a Cleansing. It doesn't just get rid of the stuff we don't want, it takes care of -everything-." She angles back to include Megan, both hands burrowing into her pockets again. "He's a lot happier about the Wyld now; suggested, no, /decided/ that our cubs were going to spend time out here before they Rited. But if you want to get him checked again..." She lets this last dangle expectantly.

Olga listens quite nicely to the story, but her attention's distracted and her eyes roam. They catch Severs more than anyone, they tend to linger there. "You can get tainted by the Wyld?" she asks, obviously rather surprised, leaning in towards him, asking in a hoarse hushed voice that still has to travel a fair length and so is still rather loud. "How d'you take care of that? Just a regular Cleansing?"

Dagger's-Edge looks back to the pseudo-conversation between Severs and Olga, though one ear is kept cocked towards the Walker galliard.

Severs snorts, obviously amused. One can be tainted by the Wyld. I was, once. The Rite of Cleansing deals with all taint, no matter which member of the Triad inflicts it.

Yi can't help but be suspicious about the changed Marcus, and looks back to Firewatcher and Alicia briefly. "I am no spirit-doctor, but he should have a 'follow up' check up, I think."

Olga's mouth curls up into a very round "Oh." She goes back to chewing on her celery, with a tight nod of thanks towards the Fostern, perhaps a little embarassed at the simple answer to her simple question.

Alicia rolls her shoulders back a bit as she listens to the gathered Garou, rolling her shoulders a bit in a shrug. "A follow up won't hurt, if there is any true concern."
Natalie continues watching Megan, waiting for her decision.

Severs shifts back to man form, and takes off his hat to display pointed 'Mister Spock' ears, tracing their outline with his finger as he sits on the ground. "Dunno if you can see this, as dark as it is," he says, "But this is an aftereffect."

Dagger's-Edge looks back to Severs as he shifts, and peers with interest at the theurge's ears. The understanding dawns on the young philodox and his tail thumps lightly. Must hear about that one some time, Severs.

Firewatcher's ears flicker with indecision. It cannot hurt. I was planning on going into the city when the moon was smaller to see the den Holds-the-Line mentioned at last Moot, and perhaps help out. The Fianna looks to Natalie. I have a gift of my auspice that can sense the balance of his soul.

Finds-The-Path tilts his head as he studies the pointed ears. Perplexed.

"It... I'd appreciate it, Firewatcher-rhya," the Walker says with a little nod, ignoring or perhaps not hearing the byplay with Cutter. "We'll be moving in on Saturday, and work starts... well, work for everyone /else/ starts Sunday. You're welcome to stop by any time. You've got my cell, if you want to call ahead, right?"

Olga turns back to Severs as he continues speaking, and she peers and leans forward but can make nothing of it. The woman finally just ripples and buckles through her forms until she's in Lupus, making a tangled mess of her blankets. She stares longer than is polite at the pointed ears, and her tail begins to wag. Neat, she indicates, and echoes Dagger's-Edge's statement. She also, a moment later, suddenly finds the taste of her celery absolutely disgusting, and she spits out the vegetable with annoyance.

Yi for a moment, finds humor in Olga's reaction to her green snack. The ragabash holds up a hand to her face, expression scrunching in efforts to keep down a giggle.

Firewatcher lean-bumps into Alicia and looks over to Yi expectantly, before looking back to Natalie. I do, and I will. The Fianna then looks to her packmate, and noses the Galliard hard. I am hungry. I am going to go find something to eat before going back to the Grotto to eat this night. Do you wish to join me?

"Sure thing, I can go for a run myself." Alicia says with a grin as she rises up to her feet, ruffling up Firewatcher's fur a bit playfully. "Thanks for coming guys. See ya'll later." She reaches over and pops Yi on the shoulder.

Yi's withheld snicker causes her to pause and choke up when Firewatcher looks at her, but then she recovers with the shoulder punch. "Huh? Oh...wait... I'll... I'll go with you two," she tells her packmates, scrambling up. She stops in mid getup, realizing that Megan hadn't exactly invited her.

Natalie drops Megan another nod before, unrecognized by the Alpha, she shifts back to lupus and heads off for the edge of the bawn.

Firewatcher seems completely unphased by Yi's inviting herself along, seeming to take it for granted that she would, then heads northwards, up the rocky outcropping path, then north again, out of the Caern.

Dagger's-Edge shakes himself out again once it seems like the 'story' is over, but does look to Natalie briefly, if only for a few seconds, and gets up to move over to Cutter once again. The philodox looks up at him, silent but asking.

Yi eventually gives one last look back before slipping into her own lupus form and chasing after her pack, a short bark echoing out into the forest from the ragabash.

Fat-Ripper doesn't seem about to move; she wraps herself up in her tangled blanket, burrowing in like some kind of prairie dog, and stretching out comfortably and warmly. Maybe she's in for the night.

Cutter shivers slightly, and replaces his hat as he turns to his tribe mate. "So what's the word?"

Dagger's-Edge doesn't seem to mind that the Gnawer theurge is there, as his focus turns completely on the Lord theurge. Forge and I have gathered some others to pack with us. Bloods-Bane and Snaps-Leashes have both been invited, and we are seeking one who knows the rite for the pack totem to come and accept us. The philodox splays an ear. But before that, it is better to hear from a seer about spirits that would be acceptable.

Finds-The-Path rises up to his feet and pads over to Fat-Ripper, setting down again quite close to her and her tangled mess, though his eyes are on Dagger's-Edge.

Fat-Ripper pokes her head out of the mess of blankets and pokes her nose into Finds-the-Path's side, a nice little greeting to her grown-up Cub. She sniffs his fur and asks him with conversational curiosity how he's been, what he's been up to. If he's met any cute girls.

Cutter cocks his head. "Well. It's a two-way proposition. What sort of pack is it, and what do you want to do? This will have an effect on the sorts of spirits you should attempt to impress."

Finds-The-Path suddenly turns to see what pokes him, and wags as the more experienced Theurge asks how he is - though his posture changes altogether and shows some discomfort at the mention of girls. It is with this new expression that he replies simply that he has been okay. How has Fat-Ripper been?

Dagger's-Edge levels his gaze towards the sky beyond Cutter. A pack for cleaning the Scab, the philodox rumbles. Forge has said we should look to some spirits of War, but we also wish to keep our heads in check as we fight. It is then that Edge notices the others, nose twitching. Then he looks back to Cutter. We are thinking of Bear... amongst some others.

Lazy, Fat-Ripper answers as she sprawls out in evidence, stretching out all her limbs at once. She glances at the Shadow Lords when they mention one of their considerations for Totems, but doesn't comment, rather pointedly doesn't comment, looking quickly back at Finds-the-Path. Lazy is good, she informs him, in case there was any doubt. My Tribe's home is looked after, my pack's home is looked after. I'm getting sloppy and fat. That's not good. But it's good that I can.

Cutter says "Especially for a city pack, you might want to consider Rat. I don't recognize some of those names, so I'm not sure who they are."

How is Squeaks-Like-A-Rat?, Pathfinder asks. He has not seen or heard of her since the island-Gathering.

Fat-Ripper's tail thumps at Cutter's suggestion, her approval couldn't be more obvious, not that he needs it. Her nose goes up and happy throttled howl escapes her throat. Rat is good! she confirms for them. Rat has made me fat and kept my teeth sharp. Her eyes are bright and her ears are high, the Shadow Lord's endorsement of her Totem has made her day. When she turns back to Pathfinder, her mood is wonderful. Squeaks is good! she confirms. She learns fast. She's in the scab, with us, where she should be. Come visit!

Dagger's-Edge shifts his weight, turning to pace off a few steps and work off the tension in his shoulders. There are many to consider, he rumbles with a pause in his pacings. But we are looking for something... more fitting. There is a hesitancy in the halfmoon's manner, as if he hadn't considered Rat ever.

Some of the Gnawer's excitement rubs off onto the Gaian. Yes! Yes, I shall. Er, but I don't not know where... Pathfinder admits with a curious, tilted head.

Cutter says "Are there any Theurges among your pack? People who know the spirits? Raccoon is also a good city totem, but not so interested in fighting outside of survival."

Fat-Ripper seems slightly perplexed at Pathfinder's answer, and she inquires if her friend doesn't know the Gnawers' new home? She must show him, then. Tonight.

Dagger's-Edge rumbles negatively. No seers moons in our pack. Only Bloods-Bane, a talesinger and Get, and Snaps-Leashes, a new moon and Gnawer. Fat-Ripper's throaty howl causes him to glance her way, particularly with the endorsement, and some more at Pathfinder, but not for very long. Weasel was another choice, he notes to Cutter. Our territory is likely to be in the Scab, but our goal is for all places as well.

Cutter says "Weasel. Not so bad for a fighting pack, but not so good for the 'keeping your head' and self control thing. My recommendation."

Tonight? I have a few things I want to do in the Scab; wanted to do them all together. And I wanted to take Chases-The-Shadows, my Ahroun Cub, to the park. She should see Squeaks, too.

Dagger's-Edge shakes himself out again, snorting as he sits, paced out. But you say it goes both ways. We may choose the spirit we wish to call, but it is the spirit who must accept. What can we do to increase our chances of showing good face?

Cutter says "Find out what the spirit's goals are, what it likes. Be ready to provide them. Rat likes Bone Gnawers. Raccoon likes to hide shinies. Um. Be prepared, really."

Fat-Ripper seems only mildly put out by the Gaian's offer of a rain-check. Whenever, she says easily, rolling her head onto its side so she can rub her ear along the ground and work out a scratch. How long? Couple days? Come find me in the park when the sun's highest. I'll be there."

Dagger's-Edge licks his jaws again, clearly thinking it over. Then, he looks to Cutter's face and tries to see if there is more to what the theurge said hiding behind the expression. This may be easier to figure out when Forge and the others are here... but no matter. We do need someone to perform the totem rite. Do you know it? Or is there someone you know who does?

Finds-The-Path isn't sure when, just yet. Want to make arrangements with Rusty first, Pathfinder explains apologetically.

Cutter says "I can do it. I cannot guarantee how it'll turn out though. Just so you're warned."

Sure, Fat-Ripper answers, easy as the day is long. Sure thing. Let me know when. I'll have a feast ready for you.

Dagger's-Edge stamps a paw against the grass, ears perking up. What will you need that we can provide for you to work your magic, Cutter-rhya? A small invisible smirk seems to lie within the query, evidenced by a jaunty tilt in the philodox's tail. Finally, everything is coming together, he rumbles.

Cutter says "Pure water. Dried evergreen boughs. And six bottles of expensive import beer."

Dagger's-Edge lolls his tongue out at the last item of the list. What name, specifically? The halfmoon averts his gaze for a second, in thought.

I shall, Pathfinder comfirms, swishing his tail slightly. I will make plans and let you know, then we can meet in the park on the right day. I can get the things I want and guide Shadow-Chaser. This is good.

Cutter shakes his head. "Keep in mind that the better the supplies, the more impressed the totem will be. Beyond that, I encourage individual initiative and creativity."

Dipping his muzzle to the answer, Edge scuffs a mark onto the grass. Understood, the young Lord rumbles before looking up. I will go and let Forge know about this. Where will we be able to find you once we've gathered the things?

Cutter says "You've got my cel number? Been to my house? If not, I'm often at Harbor Park or the Burial Mounds."

Good, Fat-Ripper confirms for Finds-the-Path. Good good good. You should all see the Squeaks. She is a lesson, and she's cute.

Dagger's-Edge responds that he has neither, but Storm-Singer may have the contact information. But, park and death-grounds it is... if no where else. Thank you, Severs-rhya.

Cutter says "Let me know when you're ready to make the request, too."

Finds-The-Path's brushy tail remains in motion, indicative of his mood. He rolls onto his side and rests his head upon the blankets.

Dagger's-Edge dips his nose again in a short bow, and without another good bye, turns and trots off into the dark woods, business finished for now.