5/9/2005

01:29 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing New Moon phase (6% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining. The temperature is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.64 and steady, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 52 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 13:05 Pacific Time on Mon May 9 2005.

Bawn: Western Forest(#3018RA)
Tall Sitka spruce and sequoia crowd around and above you. Many of the trees are old, their branches twisted into impossible shapes, trunks broad and draped with lichen, mosses and creepers. Tendrils of moss hand down from them like green spiderwebs, snaring the unwary with cold, ghostly fingers. The patches of younger growth are dense and pale, needles tinged with silver. Matted undergrowth huddles sullenly in the occasional small clearings, clutching with thorns and burrs at the legs of those who would pass. Deer seldom venture here, but the forest is full of rustlings, and tiny glints from wary, watchful eyes.
The forest spreads out to the east, bounded on the west by Sunrise Road. From farther to the west, one can occasionally hear the distant sounds of the town of Kent's Crossing.
Obvious exits:
Highway 22  Overgrown Path  Sunrise Road  Farmhouse  Caern of the Hidden Walk  Creek  Central Bawn  Southern Bawn  Northern Bawn

Under the sheets of rain coming down, water draining and dripping off the leaves of the trees, the Shadow Lord philodox known as Dagger's-Edge cuts through the bush in his black-furred wolf's form. Wet though he looks, the fur pelt's guardhairs shield him from the true extent of the elements. That, and some how, the Shadow Lord seems at peace with the rain coming down.

The grey/black wolf comes wandering through the bawn, sniffing the ground as he does so. He gives a mighty shake of his fur, sending droplets flying into the air. he sniffs the ground again, coming upon a familiar smell. Hoping the rain masks the smell and trying to stay downwind, Bane believes it is time for some pouncing practice.

Walks-Middle is lying in the driest place she could find at the base of a particularly large tree. Her head is resting on her front paws, and her eyes are closed. By all appearances, the young gray wolf is napping.

Not so difficult now, to sneak up on the Shadow Lord when the rain comes down. The water hitting the leaves louder to lupine ears, the scents masked over by the weather as well, and overall Edge isn't really paying attention to any potential stalking wolves. The philodox might even have missed Walks lying at the base of the tree, were it not that he too, was heading for it. When the Shadow Lord comes upon the Coggie, the black wolf pauses, an ear splaying in part dismay that he'd find another wolf under this particular tree he wanted to take shelter beneath. Still, rather than waking up the sleeping wolf rudely, he lets her lie where she is, and instead takes up a spot a little further out under the branches.

Bloods-Bane begins his pounce, and in midair, sees the other wolf just beneath the tree. This acts very much like a bowling ball that just realized it was going to have a bad headache when it hits the pins. He tries to pause in mid pounce, only succeeding in landing right on Edge's head and rolling into Middle's middle.

Walks-Middle yelps as Bloods-Bane rolls into her and tries to scramble to her feet, snarling and snapping her jaws at the air and looking altogether extremely annoyed. She growls threateningly, ears laid back, as she struggles to get up, not yet registering just what happened and why and by whom.

Dagger's-Edge meanwhile yelps in surprise as well, as his muzzle gets shoved nose first into the ground by 100 or so pounds of force that came out of nowhere. The Shadow Lord immediately jerks his head up soon as the weight is gone, backing up, head shaking in a rapid jerk to clear it. The black hackles along his spine shoot up, teeth getting exposed angrily as he stares at who-or-what assaulted him as well.

Walks-Middle's hackles rise and her lips peel back in a snarl as Bloods-Bane attempts to explain. Not amused. She stands stiffly over the spot where she had been laying, watching him back away, and only then does her accusing gaze shift to Dagger's-Edge, as though wondering how he contributed to disturbing her.

Dagger's-Edge is rather busy snarling at Bane with a load of wolven cursings through just one feral sound, himself unamused and muzzle muddied from the contact it had with the ground. Only when Walks' gaze turns to him does part of the Shadow Lord's consciousness cut off to attend to this new 'threat' his instincts feel, and the philodox turns his gaze upon the Guardian. His anger is not meant for her, though. As a result, the wrinkled lips and muzzle smooth back over, and he snorts with another shake of his head. Seeing as there is nothing to explain, or he doesn't care to, the Shadow Lord turns around and lopes off a few paces to another tree, where he flops down onto his haunches and tries to clean off his nose.

Bloods-Bane looks between the two and shakes his head, then down his body again, flinging water, but not in the direction of the others. He walks to under a tree across from the other two. Bane has news of bad smoke.

Walks-Middle watches as the other two walk off to sit under other trees, somewhat disappointed that her anger won't be satisfied. She sits back down, although her head remains up and alert as she watches the others, almost daring them to do something to set her off. Thus, it is almost reluctantly that she turns to Bane and tilts her head inquisitively. Bad smoke?

Dagger's-Edge doesn't turn his head to echo the query. He just continues trying to clean off his nose.

Bane. On black road. Bloods-bane looks between the two. Bird brought paper that said so. Smoke bane.

Walks-Middle continues to watch him, as though expecting more. After a moment, she shifts her position and then prompts him with, On black road? One bane? Has anyone gone to fight it?

Dagger's-Edge finally manages to get most of the mud off of his face, but there are still globules that stick to the ends of his fur. Now, finally, he takes stock of the other two wolves, observing and listening to their conversation.

Bloods-Bane shakes his head, No. Just knew last night. He sits up straight, proud. Requiem will be there. Look forward to it. Restless about farmhouse. Want to go now. Fight.

Walks-Middle watches as Bloods-Bane tells of the plans, and seems satisfied. That is good, she relays, then lowers her head onto her paws with a faint whine.

Dagger's-Edge sneezes out one last bit of mud that clings stubbornly to his nose-end, and then rumbles out. Moon's small, harder to fight in. The ahroun's whine, though, draws his ears and gaze. Edge looks at Walks with the faintest hints of curious concern.

Bloods-Bane cocks his head to one side and looks to Middle. Middle well? He asks. With this he pulls up and walks closer, flopping down under her tree, his previous jump forgotten.
Bloods-Bane has partially disconnected.

Walks-Middle shifts her gaze from Dagger's-Edge to Bloods-Bane as the Get flops down near her. She lets out a soft, half-hearted growl, but doesn't seem about to chase him off. She is well, the wolf responds automatically. Just restless. Like Bloods-Bane. Frustrated. As if to demonstrate, she shifts her position again.

Rising up to his paws, the Shadow Lord eyes the Get who decides to take a nap around them. Rumbling something about getting too comfortable, the halfmoon sits again, next to but not /too/ near the Coggie. Then what is it?

Walks-Middle watches as Dagger's-Edge draws near and lowers her ears at his question, looking apologetic. She wants to do things. Make plans. Get things done. Hunt, fight. She is tired of being alone and useless.

Dagger's-Edge gazes upon the ahroun, an equitable stance on his posture. Peacemaker isn't useless, but is a full moon. This observation could carry various implications, though the way he says it, it's just said in neutral fact. What things does Peacemaker want done?

Walks-Middle thinks on this a moment, before looking back at the other wolf. To pack. And fight wyrm-things. And find lost things. Things that can help.

Dagger's-Edge turns his nose skywards as the rain lightens, watching the clouds through the branches of the tree before turning back to the ahroun. Wyrm-things will always be there to fight, he observes with hints at implying there really isn't any rushing it. Peacemaker's pack still has some time too. The Shadow Lord looks over to the sleeping Get, and looses a sigh he had been withholding. Deathsong pack, too, is doing better. Fenris-wolf gained another. Fullmoon, Kills-Wisely of those that follow Cold-Wind-Heart-Eater. He fights well. It is a reluctant, but truthfully made observation.

Walks-Middle seems pacified by the Shadow Lord's words. True, there is time. Just impatient. She also glances over at the Get before continuing. It is good that your pack is well. Don't know Kills-Wisely, but believe he is a good fighter, as you say.

Dagger's-Edge swings his tail behind him, sitting gingerly on a drier spot of ground beneath the tree. He is a good fighter, the Shadow Lord repeats. Maybe better than Forath-Ripper in the spirit Shadow. He whuffs, amused at the thought. But the humor is shortlived, as he falls back to seriousness. But, the pack does little for this halfmoon.

Walks-Middle perks up at the idea of someone fighting better than Forath-Ripper, but then grows serious as well, tilting her head as she peers at the Shadow Lord. Not satisfied?

Dagger's-Edge tosses his head, a sign of unsure and mixed frustration. It is a fighting pack, Peacemaker. It will bring Glory, and it will fight well against the Mother's enemies. But it does nothing for honor. Nothing for this one's stories known to others. The philodox rumbles again, definitely unsatisfied. All others know about Thunder's-Forge now. Halfmoon's moot too, I told the Sept Alpha and other halfmoons about my knowing about his bad ways. The Shadow Lord's head jerks up suddenly and he looks back to the ahroun. Didn't tell them about you though. Still a secret, that.

Walks-Middle looks sympathetic, ears forward as she listens. True, true, she agrees. Good for glory, but hard to gain honor. At the mention of Thunder's-Forge, she lets out another faint whine, looking a cross between regretful and thankful. Have they made a decision? If Dagger's-Edge asked it, she would still admit that she knew, share in the punishment.

Dagger's-Edge growls low, face edging forward to stare at the ahroun. No. No telling about you. It will make things bad all over again, badder than before. He snorts, and then looks away for a bit, before turning back. I told you about it, made trouble already. You tell about it, there will be big, bad trouble. More trouble than necessary. The halfmoon scuffs a paw in the dirt, looking down. Sept Alpha will decide at moot, she says. His ears flicker back, annoyance writing itself again over him. Always waiting and waiting. Impatient, yes. But impatience only makes more trouble too. So, waiting again.

Walks-Middle backs down as the Lord stares at her. Yes, there will be more trouble. She understands and will keep silent. Seems a lot of waiting. Don't blame you or Bloods-Bane for impatience. The moot will come soon and all will be over.

Dagger's-Edge sits back again, shaking out his ruff. All will be over, yes. Soon, this halfmoon hopes. The Shadow Lord looks thoughtful, easing off from inner concerns. Then he glances back. Is not Pierces-Ice coming back after moot too?

Walks-Middle lolls out her tongue, glad for a new subject. Yes, she is! Her pack will be happy to have her back. White Bear is especially concerned for her and her pup. He always asks if I have heard news of her. He was in his two-leg form in the Caern. Surprised me. She will come back, and then I will seek out a pack. And learn more.

Dagger's-Edge looks surprised as well. Incredulous. White Bear? On two legs? Walks might as well have suggested the Shadow Lord to try and jump and land on the moon in one go. The philodox is, for the moment, overtaken with surprise.

Walks-Middle whuffles, looking amused. Two legs, yes! Never thought to see that. She grows more serious after a moment, seeming to have something else on her mind, but she fails to relay anything, and sneezes instead.

Dagger's-Edge stares a bit more, but finally breaks himself out of the dubious shell long enough to ask, Why was White Bear on two legs? The question follows up with a musing that maybe the tribeless one has finally lost his mind.

Walks-Middle tilts her head, but doesn't appear to have much of an answer. Don't know. He didn't say, and I didn't want to get on his bad side by asking. He didn't seem crazy. He was normal. White Bear. We talked about things.

Dagger's-Edge peers curiously, but doesn't ask. The halfmoon then turns away from that subject, wondering instead, What will you do when you are off this guard duty for the ~caern~?

Walks-Middle seems almost eager to move on to the new subject. Go to the scab, she answers immediately. Find Fat-Ripper and help her with patrols in the shadow. I will find Calls-Spirits-rhya, too, and go to his territory. He promised to teach me to fight with long-metal-sticks. And I will seek out those interested in joining my pack... she hesitates on that one, seeming less certain than before. Calls-Spirits seemed upset when I told him my plans. Told me Uktena was wise, good for the shadow, but not a good, nice spirit, not my destiny. Another... that Gray... told me before that others would view Uktena with suspicion, that I would have to expect that, and then I had told him that I could handle that if it would help Gaia. Now... I am torn.

Dagger's-Edge flicks his tail around behind him, not making any noise or commentary as the ahroun relays her plans. Then as she states her ambivalence, the Shadow Lord rumbles. You cannot decide so early. Pack alpha depends on the pack, as the pack depends on pack alpha. If not Uktena, it will be another - maybe one that is better for the pack. Another low rumble sounds through the Lord like a stormcloud. Others will whine about your choices, always. No one can be always satisfied.

Walks-Middle watches as Dagger's-Edge speaks and seems satisfied by the answer. You are wise and give good advice. I don't mean to decide everything now. Not set in stone. But I want to have a plan to tell people, an idea, to find those that are interested and would be good packmates. You are right. I cannot satisfy everyone.

Dagger's-Edge lifts a paw for a moment, a human-ish gesture like he were going to dismiss something said, but then sets it back down. Instead the Shadow Lord looks quizzically at the Child, before chuffing a wolven-vocal shrug. Better to know those ideas well, yes, but also better to tell them how they would fit with those ideas. The Shadow Lord flattens his ears back a moment, noting how much of a salesman he sounds like.

Walks-Middle tilts her head. How they would fit with the ideas? Tell them how they could aid the pack? What they could do? That seems much easier than just presenting a pack idea. It is easy to see where others are strong and how that strength can be used.

Dagger's-Edge dips his head. Ideas are good, but not all can see into your head, Peacemaker. They would not know, unless you tell them what you think. But not push them too far, or else they think you are just pushing.

Walks-Middle lets out a sigh, almost a huff. Tell ideas, but don't have them too set. Tell how others can fit in the pack, but don't get pushy. And when you do make your pack and get a totem, some will still frown about it. Sounds simple.

Dagger's-Edge snorts, a twinge of amusement making it to his ears that tip forward. Peacemaker is a fullmoon. If they don't like it, they can try to fight you.

Walks-Middle snorts at that. Try and maybe succeed, depending on who doesn't like it. Need to fight more, better. Ought to start acting more like a fullmoon. At least Flood-of-Flame would be happier if I did.

Dagger's-Edge gives the ahroun a long look, and then gets up to his paws, shaking himself. Peacemaker can fight, he rumbles. Just fights for good reason, not because she Needs to fight.

Walks-Middle considers this and stretches before sitting up. Perhaps you are right, she concedes, but it is easy to get discouraged. You know how it is, maybe, wanting to have the approval of those above you.

Dagger's-Edge yawns widely as well, a soft whine ending the yawn before another shake to loosen himself up. Then with a bit of a consideration at the napping Get (who no doubt is snoring a storm) the Shadow Lord looks back to the Child. I do not concern myself with the approval of those above me, he rumbles with a snort. They never really approve anyway. Those that do, could be lying. Like the dead elder.

Walks-Middle lolls out her tongue. Such a cheerful view. May not get their approval, but I'm going to make sure they remember me. If I'm gonna die young, I'm gonna accomplish something before I do.

Dagger's-Edge never said he saw the world as a many-colors-curve. The Shadow Lord wrinkles his muzzle a little bit, but doesn't look overly threatening in any sense. At the mention of dying young, the Shadow Lord just gets more subdued. He sits again, thinking on it.

Walks-Middle notices the subdue and whines softly. I don't really believe I will or that anyone will, she hurries to assure him, but it is best to be prepared, right? I will try to live a long time. Long, long time. Maybe I will outlive all the others and become Elder or an Alpha. Her mouth parts in a lupine grin and her tongue lolls out in amusement at this idea.

Dagger's-Edge looks up, and attempts a vague wolf's grin at the idea as well. ~Walks-the-Middle-Road-rhya~, is funny sounding, he notes with a splay of his ear. Yet, at least the Shadow Lord looks encouraged. Maybe, he muses, the Shadow Lords will be his soon.

Walks-Middle is encouraged by Dagger's-Edge's encouragement and whuffles, amused by the sound of the honorific. If you do get the Shadow Lords and become an Elder, she adds, then I would be the one calling /you/ rhya. ~Dagger's-Edge-rhya~.

Dagger's-Edge admits with a bit of his tongue lolling, that it would not sound so bad to be called that. He blinks twice and then flickers his ears in amusement.

Walks-Middle chuffs at this and then stands to her feet. She looks at him a moment, her tail wagging back and forth slowly, altogether looking a bit to sly for her own good. The young wolf chuffs again and drops down into a mock-bow, looking like a wound up spring. Play! Let's play!

Dagger's-Edge again, blinks. The sudden invitation is received first with confusion, then some suspicion, and then resolve. Licking the side of his muzzle where he tastes just a touch of grit left from the mud, the Shadow Lord sloooowly rises to his feet. His tail flags up, waving about as he eyes the ahroun calculatingly, and finally makes his pounce.

Walks-Middle just grins up at the Philodox as he eyes her and then springs to the left as he moves to pounce, apparently having expected that he'd agree. The sleeping Get receives an unfortunate spray of mud as the Gaian then leaps forward to try and pounce on the Shadow Lord.

Dagger's-Edge comes down and his paws splurch in some mud, though the balance of the wolf is better than any slipping and sliding that might have been done with two-legs. The halfmoon dodges away from ahroun's counterpounce, dancing back a few pawsteps with his tail still waving in the air. An amused light glints in his golden eyes, and he bows his front half low before taking off for the trees, inviting a chase.

Walks-Middle had been ready to dodge another pounce, and so takes a moment to catch on to the idea of a chase. As the Shadow Lord turns and runs off, she blinks and then takes off after him with a chuff.

Dagger's-Edge makes sure to run just enough that he can be seen, but much of his concentration is on what's in front of him. He's still not That familiar with the bawn woods, and hence given a few twists and turns, he jumps around a tree, only to collide through a bush on its other side. The philodox yips in surprise reflexively, getting some scratches from the branches, but his inertia is enough to carry him through. He's slowed however, that by the time he makes it out, the ahroun is nearly upon him.

Walks-Middle is much more familiar with the bawn after spending the last month or so in it. Seeing that she is gaining ground, she nips at the air in front of her playfully, as though trying to catch his tail.

The Coggie is awarded with a successful nip, her teeth catching a few hairs off the end of the Shadow Lord's flying tail. The black tail suddenly gets further beyond immediate biting distance as he tucks it close to him, and then runs around a tree to come full circle. Now, it might seem like he's chasing the ahroun instead and trying to catch her tail in his teeth.

Walks-Middle yips and then bursts into a faster sprint, spurred on by the feeling of being chased. She tucks her tail close to her as she runs, fearing her own tactic. Eventually, she whips around, deciding she'd rather just meet the Lord head on instead of being chased.

Dagger's-Edge is almost upon Walks before she turns around, which causes him to skid towards a stop, but only gathering his haunches beneath him. The Shadow Lord uses the momentarily slowdown and springs forth the rest of the way, paws outstretched and looking for a tackle.

Walks-Middle had no real plan beyond saving her tail, and thus is tackled. Her tactic now is to move around, batting at him with her paws, and trying to squirm her way out from under him.

Dagger's-Edge gets a faceful of paw, but with his tackle successful, the Shadow Lord tries to smoosh himself over the ahroun. She can feel him trying to pin her with teeth and paw beneath, but all her wiggling makes it difficult to gain any kind of hold. That, and all her pawswatting at him bats his muzzle back and forth. Gotcha! he growls out, tail flagging above her.

Bloods-Bane finally opens an eye and squints at the other two. It's obvious he's been watching for a long time when he finally gives a sneeze from the mud on his face. He gives a chuff of air. Funny. He motions with a lift of his head.

Walks-Middle stops squirming as Dagger's-Edge growls and flashes throat, admitting defeat. She's still happy looking, even if she did lose. At Bloods-Bane's chuff, she turns her head in his direction and lolls out her tongue in amusement.

Dagger's-Edge's growls is...playful, to say the least. Triumphant, definitely. Walks' throat gets just a nudge from the Shadow Lord's nose and he gets off, only to hear the chuff from the woken Get. Edge's ears splay, and his tail lowers a level, but stays raised. One might think the Lord looks embarrassed to be caught playing.

Bloods-Bane rises up to his feet. He walks over to Kenneth, standing there for a moment, head held high before he lifts a paw and tags Edge with it. Edge is it. Then he jumps back, ready for a rumble with the two.

Walks-Middle rolls onto her stomach, now thoroughly covered in mud, as Edge moves away. She watches as Bloods-Bane draws near, panting a bit from the exercise, tongue still lolling out. She glances up at the Lord with a most innocent look, before catching on to Bane's seeming challenge. She stands up to her feet and then looks up at Edge again, waiting to see what he'll do.

Dagger's-Edge stiffens with his tail getting higher and lips lifting just enough to show the tips of his teeth when Bane approaches, reaches out a paw and ...tags him. The Shadow Lord glances down to where he was touched, then back up at Bane. Then, his tongue slips out from between his teeth, which turns into sudden pounce towards the Get. The Shadow Lord is game, and plays on.

Bloods-Bane lifts up and greets Edge with paws flung out, wrestling style. He's trying to wraps his haunches around and pull Edge to the ground.

Walks-Middle waits a moment to see what the first moves will be and then rushes in, coming in from the side and trying to tackle Dillen. Or, at least, throw off his wrestling move.

Dagger's-Edge contacts with the Get in the span of a second, and the both of them wrestle a bit before the Shadow Lord resorts to using his teeth. Not to bite, but to grab and hold, while the ahroun jumps in to help Edge seeks to put them on the ground as well- just with him on top of the pile.

Bloods-Bane is a little confused by the other coming in from the side. He rolls with it, coming back up and onto his feet. He looks at the two and gives a chuff, gauging each of them for a moment, waiting for them to attack.

Walks-Middle scrambles to her feet as well and jumps away from Dagger's-Edge. She takes a moment to eye the two before feinting towards Edge and then switching directions and trying once more to pounce Bloods-Bane.

Dagger's-Edge starts as Walks feints at him, weight shifting in anticipation, but then she jumps for Bane. The Shadow Lord lolls his tongue, and barks a rough call of encouragement. Get him Peacemaker!

Bloods-Bane sees the feint and growls, waiting until Stacey is in the air and leaping out after Edge, using all his power to send Edge to the ground... Below himself.

Making his way through the woods is Brom, sledgehammer resting upon his shoulder. He can hear noises in the distance, eyes trained ahead with a slight narrowing. As he comes into view, he peers at the trio of Garou.

Walks-Middle misses Blood's-Bane for the most part, however he does not entirely make it into the clear. The Gaian's pounce lands on his back end, and she tries to put enough of a push into it to throw him off-balance as his movement rolls her back off onto the ground.

Dagger's-Edge sees the Get galliard coming for him, but not backing down directly, the Shadow Lord snaps out. Both his hind legs bend and he surges forth in a full on throw of his own weight, not to knock the other down, but to deflect the weight away. Perhaps the ahroun's jump also aids in doing this. Brom's presence hasn't yet been noted, as the rain that has started falling again masks the scents in the wind.

Bloods-Bane gets sandwiched between the two, Middle slamming his back end down and Edge bowling him over up top. He tries his best to use the momentum to flip over Stacey now, at least keeping her from having two garou land on top of her.

Brom furrows his brows and leans against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the group. Licking his lips, he blows his hair away from his face, eyes dancing in amusement.

Walks-Middle tries her best, once hitting the ground, to scramble back up and away before getting crushed by the others. If successful, she turns back around and waits for an opening.

Dagger's-Edge in contrast simply aims to pin Bloods-Bane once more, finding his paws beneath him again and lashing out with both forepaws to push the Get down in the muddy grass. The Shadow Lord takes just enough care not to get tangled up with the Coggie as she makes her escape. Still, Edge hasn't taken notice of Brom.

Bloods-Bane does his best with his back legs, forcing all of his muscle strength into them and pushing upwards, trying to get Edge off of him.

Brom raises up a brow. "What the fuck are you guys doing, playing Tag the care bear?" He asks with a snort.

Walks-Middle, who had been about to jump back in, freezes at the sound of Brom's voice and whips around to face him. She lolls out her tongue, panting. Why? she asks. Want to join in? I see they let you back on the bawn?

Dagger's-Edge finally gets pushed off, but only with an active disengagement on his part as well. The philodox hops back a couple of steps, remaining on his paws as his ears turn first, then nose and eyes in the direction of Brom. Once more the Shadow Lord splays his ears, and his tail drops down from its high position. His answer is just a look as he pants, one that shows that this time, he isn't embarrassed to be caught.

Bloods-Bane rights himself and looks at Brom. His tail stays high as he stands there. He looks to Brom. Play. He simply explains. Good practice. A shake is given to his fur again, flinging water and mud. His tongue lolls out, happy.

Brom nods his head slightly to the group, giving a quick, feral grin. "Ah, carry on then. Playing is always good." He says, stomping a boot into the thick mud beneath his weight.

Walks-Middle shakes her fur as well, flinging mostly mud. She turns her head to look at Bloods-Bane and then the Shadow Lord, lolling out her tongue. Yes, play is good, she merely conveys, agreeing.

Bloods-Bane looks to Brom, What news of the bane animals? He pads towards Brom. Or the bane smoke? Told Edge and Middle of the smoke.

Brom shrugs. "I haven't spoken with Yi. So... I don't know about the bane thing. You walked off with the note." He says as he rocks his shoulders back. "An, I've been spreading news of the farmhouse. I need you to do it though because you're the pack's Galliard. Its your job to make news travel fast."

Dagger's-Edge turns his head as the two wolves shake off, waiting until they've finished before walking off to a short distance and shaking off there instead. He lurks at the edge of the gathering for a short time, and then rumbles a grudging agreement as well. Play is good, but hunting will be better. He turns from them, evidently intended to go off and do just that.