Logfile from GarouMU.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (99% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 68 degrees Fahrenheit (20 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 13 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.94 and rising, and the relative humidity is 70 percent. The dewpoint is 58 degrees Fahrenheit (14 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 17:20 Pacific Time on Tue Jun 21 2005.

County Line Road, In the Woods
At this point in its journey, the faded asphalt of County Line Road meets an ancient dirt road rutted with tire-marks.  The paved surface buckles at the edges, as the trees gain their slow victory over the works of man.  Ancient pines and maples dominate the surrounding forest, along with a few oaks and an occasional sequoia towers over its smaller companions, jutting upward into the sky.
The road leads southward into the forest, its cracking asphalt giving way to a hard-packed, rutted dirt surface.  To the north, patches of light dapple the crumbling pavement, and the trees seem to thin out a little.  The trees arch over the road on either side, creating patterns of greenish light and shadow.
Contents:
Kevin
Brom
Dwight
Obvious exits:
North on the Road  South on the Road

[look Dagger's-Edge]
This wolf is large, but young by appearance. A jet coat of fur, long legs and a deep chest show his health, but not lacking in some particular scars on his furred body. His countenance infrequently lights with frivolous cheer, being rather set in an intelligent, reserved attentiveness that presents itself as somehow sinister, driving home the mysteries and suspicious nature many have of the wolf. He unquestionably carries himself with as much grace and agility as he can muster, wrapped in precarious balance and proportion, but a certain quirk of his gait indicates there is something wrong with him as well. Soaked in the color of void, his coat cloaks him with darkness incarnate with hints of ashen and earthen colors streaking the fringes. Silver frosting surrounds his eyes with a lightened mask that adds to the haunting stare of his golden stare, touching down as well at the very tip of his muzzle.
This wolf, has the unmistakeable tinge of the city in his scent. He seems to have taken some care to try and cleanse himself of such things, but the tenacious Weaver has undoubtedly clung invisibly to his form.

[look Kevin]
Kevin Lockwood, in the three months since his arrival in St Clair, has changed a little from the neat, nerdy teen he came here as. His hair is still so dark a brown it's nearly black, but it's grown out from its close crop into quite a bush, giving him a slightly wild air. Below it his long face, large nose, heavy eyebrows and brown eyes, of course, remain. His prominent chin and Adam's apple are definitely starting to sprout beard hairs - still not many, but they're there right enough, and he'll likely have to start shaving soon. Below his neck his body remains slim and fit, though possibly a little less athletic in appearance than it was three months ago. He's grown another inch or more of late and is now a good five foot nine - and as that extra inch went on his legs, he looks even more gangling now due to the relative length of his lower limbs to his body. That's growth spurts for you. Clothing-wise, he remains clad in the blue sweatshirt, grey running pants, and worn trainers.

[look Brom]
Standing tall about six foot five, Brom has the body of a brick wall. He obviously works out on an obsessive basis. His arms are thick and his chest broad, giving off the look of perhaps a well in shape football player. He has a pair of intense blue eyes that always seem to border on anger, and a well developed scowl.
Brom has long hair to about his shoulders, a dirty dark blonde that is typically tied up into a tight pony tail, pulled back from his head. He has a jagged looking scar along his neck that dips down into his shirt, and a few more along his arms that appear to have been made by claw marks. He tends to dress very plainly, a pair of beat up blue jeans with slashes and holes in them, a tight fitted black muscle shirt and a beat up looking leather jacket. Shit kicker boots adorn his feet and a large belt buckle with the picture of an axe on it.

[look Dwight]
A hair's breadth from thirty, Dwight's already too old for this shit. He cuts a tall but slouchy figure, broad-shouldered, all muscle beneath the wifebeater, with slim hips in his raggedy jeans. He has got a graceless, staggery sort of sideways walk, like a door that's been slammed so much it just drifts on the hinges. Livid scars are dragged into his arms, and in some places, the black hairs got scorched right off, skin wrinkled from old burns.
Hard times are stamped upon his face. His nose got broke before his first change, and he's been hit in the head so many times that his jaw's slightly off, gives him this smirk. A lateral scar across the bridge of his nose. Some others get reduced by the shadow of stubble over his face. He's got curly dark hair, seems solid black from a glance or when sweat's thick in it, and it's a little long, a little shaggy. Electric blue eyes, hell-yes intense.
If he weren't so goddamn nasty, his voice would be his best feature: screamed-raw rough and scorched by years of hard liquor, with a hint of deep south.

Brom snorts at Dwight and eyeballs him. "All of the Gustafson's are blonde haired, except my Uncle, who has red for some reason." He gives him a quick grin, then glances over to Kevin and shrugs. "Hey, if you come, I won't tell on you."

"And if I get killed, whatcha gonna say to my elder then?" Kevin says bitterly. "Nah, you guys go chew holes in the Wyrm, I'll be along next time. It's just the full moon talking." He jerks a thumb up to the sky. "And the scent of blood." The thumb jerks round towards Brom's face.

Dwight shows unexpected disappointed, on behalf of the kid. "Aw shoot, course he can, like one more ain't gonna hurt." He's patting his pockets, looking for his cigarettes. "I say if anything happens, blame it on the Walkers, they shoulda known better, blah blah blah, not our responsibility."

Snorting, Brom says. "I'll tell your Elder: 'At least he /showed up/.'" The Forseti almost snarls, shoulders rocking back, before giving his head a shake, then huffs out a breath. He heads over to the abandoned building and stares up at it again, eyeing it. "There better be a fair turn out tonight, unlike the last two times."

Silent as a cloud in the sky, Dagger's-Edge slips out from behind one of the large maple trees. The black-furred halfmoon squints his eyes with a sniff of the air before coming any closer towards the three Garou. Only Brom is given a small muzzle-dip in greeting.

"Don't tempt me," Kevin snaps to Dwight. And then he repeats to both Dwight and Brom, "Just /don't/ --" He breaks off as another inky-furred lupus makes his appearance, and looks at the newcomer intently.

Dwight is jiggling his lighter waist-high, saying, "So, Hogan.. you'd let me sleep with your sister?"

"No, I wouldn't let you fuck my sister." Brom says with a snort as he rolls his eyes upwards a bit. "Sides', she would be too much for you, probably break your balls." He glances over to Kevin, then follows his gaze to Dagger's-Edge. "The prodigal son has returned, just in time for the big fight. Kenneth. How are you doing?"

Dagger's-Edge continues sniffing the air about the two non-packmates, but immediately lowers his head when spoken to. Decent, the wolf answers with a rough cough and lick of his nose. Golden eyes shift from one face to another.

Kevin gives a little start as Brom identifies the lupine arrival. He peers at the wolf as though expecting him to have grown a second head, or some equally unlikely appendage. Evidently the name of Kenneth is not unknown to the cub even if the appearance is.

Tromping through the woods is Bloods-Bane, eyes gleaming brightly and wild as he puffs out his fur a bit, tongue rolling about his snout. As he pushes his way out into sight, he gives his pelt a hard shake, tail snaking behind him as he barks out a quick, loud greeting to the pack of Requiem. Welcome home, brother. His ears flicker towards Dagger's-Edge.

Dwight has given the Philodox a toothy grin, but oh do his eyes twinkle. His expression fades off a touch as the wolf goes named; he looks on, lighting his cigarette, taking the first few puffs.

Announcement: Jihgfed announces "The great hunt is in the process of starting, so all those who plan on attending, please make your way to the caern centre. Thanks."

Brom rocks his shoulders back as he glances over to Bloods-Bane and grins, then to the others. "Dwight, Kevin... Dillen, Kenneth." He says, motioning to each other. "Kenneth, you and Dwight need to get to know each other on the way to the Hunt. He is fighting with us tonight." Glancing over to Kevin, he lets out a breath. "Wish you were coming with us little brother. Tonight we are going to be a glorious force to reckon with."

Kevin looks round the members of Requiem, eyes drifting from one to another. "Well, like I say," he comments sanguinely, "there'll be other times. You guys come back safe, and give whatever you hunt an extra bite each for me." With which valediction he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts strolling back towards the city.

Dagger's-Edge has to work hard to hold down the hackles that give their own salute up when Bloods-Bane comes around, but the more important part of Brom telling the philodox to get to know anyone leaves the halfmoon more than a little annoyed.

[Despite annoyances, the group travels to the caern.]

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:
Dwight (Stands-in-Rain), Brom (Forath-Ripper), Olga (Fat-Ripper), Eamon (Ever-Grinning), Yi (Three-Blades), Alicia (Guards-the-Flame), Seeker, Jeren (Dances-Shadows), Touch Deer (Cries-No-More), Stacey (Walks-Middle), Ciuraq (Circle Keeper), Fierce Howl, Horace (Untangler)
Great Hunt Preparations
Obvious exits:
Rock Slab  Windy Spot  WaterFall  Steam Vents  

Olga comes down from the west, her hands shoved surlily into her pockets, her eyes on the ground, teeth grimly set. Her bag's nowhere around and she's no jokes or smiles for the gathering, everything is drained out of her but frazzled rage-raw nerves.

Making their way into the Caern is the trio of the Stag Pack known as Resonance, Alpha and Theurge less. Alicia leads the trio, pulling her hair back behind her, wearing a pair of sweat clothes. She casts a quick, assured smile to Yi and Eamon, then calls out to the others. "Brothers and sisters of the Walk, Resonance has arrived to aid your claws in tonights ritual!"

Fierce Howl splays her ears. The young Red Talon is all in motion again, weaving around the gathered Garou, sniffing here and there, bumping into people, testing limits, tail waving, and generally being high-spirited. Hunt! Hunt, hunt, hunt!

Jeren glances toward the newcomers from where she's standing, hands shoved into jean pockets. There's not even a nod of acknowledgement from her. Someone's feeling sullen.

Walks-Middle looks at each of the newcomers from her seat off to the side, ears forward as she listens with some interest to what's transpiring, despite her obvious frazzled mood.

Horace continues ushering people forward with loose, loopy hands. Circle Keeper's sniffed greeting isn't even noted, the Ragabash looks lost, and he moves almost in slow motion. Then he reaches down, and he grabs the great switch of purple sage, and lifting it gingerly up he begins to beat it down hard against the dried grass and severed flowers strewn across the caern's centre, sending up great puffs of dust and hayseed, pungent and sharp, stinging the nose.

Eamon strolls in with the other members of Resonance, giving Alicia an odd look. "Okay, yeah, whatever."

Circle Keeper sneezes. Hard. And then the Ahroun sneezes yet again, much like he was oppressed with some allergy at the moment. He backpedals away from Horace quickly, making his way on back to where he put the things he took with him.

Three-Blades sticks to Alicia's left side, less than half a pace behind. The Gnawer ragabash looks a bit excited herself, but she tempers the electric feeling with her own concern at the number of those gathered.

Cries-No-More blurs into homid form and stoops to pick up Fierce Howl's Tales. He walks over towards Dwight, calling to everyone as he walks in a loud, rather brutish voice, "If you're not in a pack, form a mission pack for tonight."

Another group makes their way towards the Caern center is the Fenris pack, honored, hated, whatever it may be, someoe is coming to kick ass and take a whole lot of names. Brom strides proudly, along with Dagger's Edge, Bloods-Bane and Dwight, the group of rage and testosterone looking more than eager to kill something tonight.

Fierce Howl sneezes, too, this putting some pause to her hyper-energetic frisking about. Once, twice, thrice.

Jeren's mouth thins. She gives another look around, noting those that arrived after her once more, lingering possibly a little longer on Requiem than the others. Then she turns and makes her way carefully toward Touch Deer. "No pack," she says by way of greeting. "But I'm not sure I know people here well enough to know who else isn't in one."

"Hey Glass Walker, we'll take you." Alicia calls over as she swells up a bit when she takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.

Apparently oblivious to Touch Deer's instruction, Fierce Howl gives herself a brisk shake and resumes nosing about, moving among and sniffing at the other Garou gathered in the caern.

Seeker calls out above the crowd, "I would apreciate any assistance from sept members who wish to stay behind and help the guardians and myself protect the caern. It will be particularly vulnerable tonight, with most of its guardians on the Hunt."

Walks-Middle was watching the energetic Fierce Howl when Requiem enters, and then the young Ahroun can't help but stare at Dagger's-Edge with obvious interest and confusion. She forces herself to look away, lowering her ears. and watch Alicia.

Dwight strolls in on his cowboy boots, cocksure, excited, in the middle of trading some lewd comment with Brom. His eyes are moving over the heart of the caern, here, with all those that are assembled; it does his heart good to see so many Garou again, gathered here for the upcoming battle. He's near-giddy, and when he catches sight of Touch Deer, he breaks into a grin and hollers him a hello. It will be good to see the Wendigo in action.

Horace continues to beat down the ground in wide, sweeping circles, until the air begins to get muddy and confused with strands of grass and floating flower petals. The boy gets into his task, an almost manic smile spreads across his face, but his slapping stays rhythmic and steady.

Three-Blades glances up towards Alicia, sniffing once before looking over to Jeren. The Gnawer chuffs once as well, welcoming the Walker towards Resonance if she wishes.

Olga skirts around the preparations for the rite, watching them uneasily, trying to find her way towards Resonance and her tribemate. She adds awkwardness and embarassment to her frazzled sullenness as she asks Alicia, quietly, "Alright if I join you? I don' know where Layne is."

Dagger's-Edge trails behind the pair of Requiem, but more or less looks like he's sticking to his packmates only. No greetings, no acknowledgements, and no glances are returned.

Reaching out, Alicia places a firm hand on Olga's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Of course you can, we'd be honored to have you at our side." She says firmly as she nods her head, offering a grin to her.

Touch Deer hollers back at Dwight, "So you're with Requiem tonight?" He nods and seems pleased, pursing his lips together in a brief smirk. He heads over to Alicia. "I'm Alpha of the fight tonight, but I'll fight alongside your pack once we're in Battle, if you will have me." He doesn't sound sarcastic when he asks permission.

Adding on, Alicia looks surprised as Touch Deer asks to join. "Sure." She says with a wide grin upon her face. "I've looked forward to fighting again at your side, brother."

Bloods-Bane trots up beside of Brom and Dwight. He moves into the group and sits down, looking up and around at all the faces. He gives a great shake of his fur and a chuff to anyone who looks his way.

Jeren eyes Alicia as she makes the offer, clearly taken aback. And again when Three-Blades echoes it. Nevertheless, her approach is slow, so that she arrives after both Olga and Touch Deer have approached them.

Nothing happens. A long while passes; Untangler continues his ritual beating, robotic and surreal, sending up the dry and pungent smells of summer into the air. The sun continues its slow and steady descent into the distant ocean. Occasionally a distant nightingale strikes up a tune. Those Garou that choose talk amongst themselves. Suddenly everything changes: the birds stop their singing and the air gets heavy and thick, hanging around the Garou's shoulders like a heavy cloak. Just outside the circle of grasses there's a disturbance in the wind: the grasses start blowing against it, and then it picks up, growing stronger and stronger, the winds swinging lazily around in a circle. With a wild screech like a hawk's as it begins its dive for prey the tempest breaks from its teacup and surges into the air, a great swirl of wind and light and madness; and just as quickly it falls as if it were a hunted creature finally struck through the heart by an arrow, collapsing onto the ground and heaving up and down. All is quiet: it's like a silent, stationary tornado which has been tipped over on its side. Lights flash along its side and its impossible to see through it, but the inside, the tornado's eye, is dark, mere specks illuminating it, like a night sky. It's about three metres across: about big enough for Garou to pass through doublefile and still have room to move their arms. Some here might have seen one of these before: it's a moonbridge. It waits, lying there bloated and expectant, patient as the grave.

Circle Keeper leers back as the moon bridge arrives, ears splaying to the sides at the sight of the thing. Baring his teeth, he turns to walk around by his spear, as if the weapon would somehow make that Moon Bridge so much safer.

Shifting upwards, the Gaian takes the form of the Crinos, giving her muscles a quick stretch, then a loud chuff towards her protopack. ~Lead us well tonight, Pure One.~ She rumbles to the Wendigo as her claws flex, looking more than ready. She soon begins to glow for a moment, a bright silver light as she calls upon the Lune's favor, eyes gleaming over in a hungry, feral manner. ~Let the Wyrm shake in fear tonight, for tonight the moon is full, rage is in our veins, and the Hidden Walk is angry!~ She roars out in her Moon Dancer's voice.

Fierce Howl startles, backing up a little and focusing on the forming moonbridge with astonishment, ears cocked forward and nose working overtime. The Gaian Galliard's cry breaks her out of this stillness, and she lifts her muzzle to the sky to let out a loud howl of excitement. Hunt! We hunt, we hunt, we hunt!

Touch Deer hands one of the small stones he holds to Alicia, then turns to face everyone as the moon path appears. "This is it! I want everyone to remember why were here tonight. Focus on the task before us: kill the Prey that She chooses for us. Fierce Howl, Stacey, you're with Requiem. Alicia and myself first, followed by Resonance, followed by Requiem. Lets go." He turns and waits until everyone is ready and then steps through, Alicia at his side.

Jeren closes her eyes for a moment, standing still. And then she too surges into Crinos, albeit a much quieter crinos, that looks more calculating than Rage filled.

Touch Deer shouts towards Circle Keeper. "Tell the Talon, Fierce Howl, what I just said."

Seeker bristles a bit as the moonbridge manifests in an unexpected form. He stands still, however, offering a quiet prayer to Gaia for the hunters.

Circle Keeper's eyes squint, but he does as the Fostern Wendigo asks. He walks into sight of the Talon, relaying that Fierce Howl is to hunt with Fenris-Pack; the war-alpha says so.

Walks-Middle looks startled by Touch Deer's order and then leaps to her feet and barks that she is not going. Stay here. Guard. Guard in Pierces-Ice's place.

Taking the stone from Touch Deer, Guards-The-Flame nods her thanks to him, then turns to the group of Garou that is in her pack. She thinks for a moment, chuffing quietly in thought, before offering it forwards to the Glass Walker Ragabash. ~Take this, for it will protect you well.~ She rumbles, then waits for the Wendigo's lead, before entering with him.

Fierce Howl finishes howling as Circle Keeper approaches her, greeting the Guardian again with lowered body and a gleeful, hungry expression. She acknowledges his news, then whirls about and bounds over toward Brom and the others; with lupine instinct, she beelines right for the alpha of the pack and frisks around him, her spirits high. Hello! We hunt! I hunt with you!

Dances Shadows accepts the stone with a slight dip of her head, looking startled once again. ~Thank you.~ She cups it in her left hand, then follows the rest of Resonance onto the bridge.

Blurring his way up into the Crinos form, Forath-Ripper looks anxious and eager as he turns his eyes towards the Red Talon, stepping out of her way a bit, flicking his ears forward, then glances to Requiem. ~Stick together tonight, brothers and sister. No one leaves each other's side and we fight for all we have.~

Eamon grins and cracks his knuckles in anticipation of the hunt. He dances on the balls of his feet like a boxer preparing to fight.

Cries-No-More blurs up into Crinos and heads into the moon bridge, after indiciating to Cole to pick one of the two knots of people gathered in the Center and join them.

Cole arrives at a dead run, panting, and moves toward Guards-Flame, choosing one of the knots. He swells up into crinos and joins.

Corrupted Inlet(#3897RFJ)
All around is the dim indigo of early evening, the sun's fingers still stretching openings in the sky, but fast fading. The river's stretched out from one horizon to the other, a mile and a half wide and deep and sluggish as ocean. There's an inlet pressed against its length like a tumour, separated from it by lines of marsh and stone. The inlet cuts into the land and the land cuts into it. The current there is still and stagnant, collecting the river's effluviam. There's no blue in the water there, it's brown and black and covered with a thin sheen of the river's spit. White speckles it, upturned bodies of fly-covered fish and boats of broken styrofoam, and amalgams of bubbly froth and diapers which drift across it looking like ghosts sucked down by gravity. A faint glow, nauseating and gently fascinating the way vomit is, drifts up off the black. The stench clogs nostrils and claws at the brain, it blots out the river, the dirt, everything clean. It's chemical and rot, ammonia-soaked death. The ground for a quarter mile is blackened and bare, everything that grows there is fried and twisted, and the only animals which limp and spasm through it are the spare parts of frogs somehow melded together, legless or tumoured, bloated or with thirteen eyes.
Contents:
[All from before, plus Cole Howls-For-Glory]

Staring off into the Moon Bridge, Forath-Ripper chuffs loudly to the pack and begins following after Resonance, eyes settled and narrowed tightly as he breathes in slowly, then out. One paw swipes down to snag a stone, claws gleaming for a moment dangerously as they sharpen. Fierce Howl runs beside the Fenrir. Bloods-bane blinks as he watches it all. He's almost transfixed at this sight he has never seen. He falls in with the rest of the pack and walks through. Dwight gazes intently at the moonbridge, fascinated, drawn. He takes the warform in anticipation, shaking out his mane, ready to go. Dagger's-Edge shifts up to the warform as well, looking towards the moonbridge and rumbling out in suspicion. Still, as ordered to proceed, he too follows the Fenrir in, calling up the gift to resist pain before daring the set foot on it.

The trip through the moonbridge is short and star-speckled, it rises up through the air and comes crashing back down to earth all within the space of ten steps. It's all whirl and chaos before it ejects the Garou on the edge of a river, as the sun is setting in the distant west. The ground at their feet is brittle and it crumbles into grime at a touch. There's not a soul to be seen - it's all quiet except for the broken ribbits of broken frogs, and the violin-strum of crickets.

As the last Garou moves through it, the moonbridge closes up at their feet, leaving nothing behind but a swirl of wind.

Three-Blades catches herself before any stumble, but uses the opportunity to scan around before straightening. Her nose works the air. Howls-For-Glory looks around at the ominous landscape, sniffing at the air suspiciously. Dances Shadows wrinkles her nose the moment her feet are back on solid ground again, her ears slicking back at their surroundings. ~Sick,~ is her only verbal response, but it's accompanied by a baring of teeth. ~Then we shall cleanse it.~ Guards-The-Flame mentions to the Walker as she walks proudly on, sniffing the air lightly for a moment, then quietly lets out a rumble as she seeks the Wendigo for direction. She seems focused, alert. The Gnawer shifts upwards into the Crinos form, sniffing the air, hackles raised as she glares at the open environment. Eamon walks off the moon bridge and leans over, murmuring softly under his breath. Cries-No-More leads the group out of the moon bridge and pauses, taking in the scenery. He scowls at the sight of the polluted inlet and then indicates Requiem to take up a position on the right. Once everyone's out and Requiem and Resoance are roughly next to each other, he begins moving towards the inlet. The Gaian pauses for a moment, then leans in and murmurs back to the Fianna, motioning to the Wendigo.

Eamon nods. "Okay then." He walks over to Touch Deer. "Want me to scout the place out?"

Glowering and glaring, Forath-Ripper rumbles in his throat, looking angry at the sight before him. ~Eyes and ears open, pack.~ He instructs. ~Keep close.~ Bloods-Bane walks alongside his packmates, claws curling at the odd texture of the earth beneath his feet. Dagger's-Edge comes up alongside the Get galliard, rumbling wordlessly. Fierce Howl slowly swells upward into hispo form, looking alert as she takes in the scene. Her tongue lolls, panting eagerness, drooling. Stands-in-rain is all lips-peeled, ears-back disgust. The unhappy odor of the place is in his lungs and stings his eyes; he grimaces as though he could even taste it, too, every dead bloated fish, every scrap of trash, every curled diaper. He growls lowly. The command from Touch Deer is noted, and Requiem's half of the hunt moves towards the right and into position.

Cries-No-More nods to Eamon, and motions to everyone to stop and wait. ~Go and report back. If anything happens, if you're spotted or attacked, try and head back and signal that something's wrong.~ The Glass Walker offers no reply to Guards-Flame; it would seem her sullenness is still present, if more muted. Or maybe she's just feeling particularly quiet tonight. Whatever the reason, she follows instructions, setting herself along the outside of Resonance and keeping a close watch on their surroundings. Guards The Flame looks worriedly over at Eamon, then rumbles in her throat. ~Become a shadow, Ever-Grinning. Do not do anything foolish.~ She sounds stern, tense as she sniffs the air some more.
Long distance to Cries-No-More and Guards-Flame: Dagger's-Edge wonders if she should go with Eamon.
Abruptly, Dances Shadows pauses in her scanning, her ears lifting, perking more like, and her gaze drifting towards the water, eyes narrowed.

Eamon smirks. "Me? Do something foolish? Perish the thought." He shifts down to lupus and his form blurs out-of-focus. The vague blur heads away from the group and off in some random direction.

There's a dead kind of peace about the place, filled as it is with small sounds, like worms in the grave. There's a bubble of released gas from beneath a bit of flotsam, and then all there is again is the chatter of small animals and the sound of the wind. To the left of Resonance is the sprawling river, and to the right of Requiem miles of empty space. Directly ahead of them both is the inlet.

Soon as the Fianna starts to head off, Cries-No-More rumbles thoughtfully, then motions for Three-Blades to support her pack mate.

Three-Blades looks towards TD, and then follows after her Fianna packmate. The Gnawer's form begins to blur along the edges as well.

Three-Blades cocks her head at the water, and then ventures just a touch closer to the waters, lured in by more than just inherent curiosity. The ragabash stops a yard from the edge. Then, the Gnawer snorts and remembers herself. She glances back towards Eamon.

Antsy and eager, Forath-Ripper continues to keep his eyes and ears peeled as he rumbles loudly in his throat to the pack. ~See anything? Its too quiet. The water is where our enemy most likely will appear.~ He flexes his claws slightly, then snarls. ~Reminds me of the revel...~ Bloods-Bane perks his ears up and listens intently. His head turns slightly as he tries to place where the sound comes from. His head cocks to the side and looks to the water as he takes a step forward towards it. Edge looks towards the polluted waters, growling low at the sound of animal chatter, ears swiveling automatically towards the supposed source. Fierce Howl shifts her weight restlessly as she watches the scout head away. She says nothing aloud, but a message is clear in her tensed body. Go, go go, want to go, want to run, want to hunt, want to kill... Stands-in-rain waits, tense, watching, and tries to ignore the wriggle and flop of the amalgamated cancer-frogs.

There's a splash in the water, followed by another. Suddenly everything's alive: animals come out of the ground like bubbles. The inlet's shore is alive with movement, as one-legged frogs hop lopsidedly out of the water. Rats and prairie dogs, emaciated, with ribs that could be played like xylophones and eyes as weak and watery as broken eggs, come out of their holes, out right beneath the Garou's feet.

Ever-Grinning barks out a command to Yi, ~Back to the pack!~ He hurries back to his pack as fast as his little legs can go.

Howls-For-Glory reacts almost instantly as the animals flood forth. He leaps and scrambles back from the horde, to find clear and safe footing. Fat-Ripper immediately stands, she looks around in fear and outrage, but she doesn't attack. Her claws fidget, like she wants something to sink them in. Dances Shadows doesn't answer Guards-The-Flame right away. For a moment, in fact, she seems a little oblivious. Abruptly, she shakes her head, as if clearing it, and growls, ~I thought I heard something.~ And like a bad Sci-Fi movie, this occurs right before the ground is suddenly swarming with sickly animals. She pulls a step back with a startled yip, then flares her nostrils and bares her teeth. Suddenly, an odd scent fills the air as she focuses upon the animals. Cries-No-More moves forward and shouts for Requiem to do the same. He barks an order to the scouts to get back to the line, and once the group is perhaps fifteen yards from the shore, he motions for everyone to form a line. Guards-The-Flame looks outraged at the sight and howls out loudly with her powerful voice, shouting back to the ragabash. ~Get back here, *now!*~

Three-Blades backpeddles as things erupt from the water, snarling in surprise. The ragabash needs no further encouragement, turning and narrowly avoiding stepping on a thin rat. The Gnawer hurries after Ever-Grinning, beelining back as the others hurry forwards.

At the Wendigo's orders, Forath-Ripper doesn't hesitate as he commands the others to do as the Wyrmfoe says, starting over quickly at once. ~No one attack until he gives the order. Keep close and tight.~ Bloods-Bane moves along with Requiem, and growls at the nearest prairie dog, staring at it. Edge hackle-raises at the sight of the mutant animals popping up, looking to pack alpha for the signals to go. His claws curl in readiness. Fierce Howl's attention snaps downward, alerted by the prey-things venturing from their dens. Instinctively, she makes a move to pounce the nearest, but is checked by Brom's order and pulls up short. Stands-in-rain was hungry for a target, but this is unexpected. Disgust is evident in the grimace on his muzzle, the narrowed red glint of his eye, but there is also pity for what these things have become. He is ready to destroy them, for surely the worst has yet to come.

There's no attack, just a look of weak, stunned confusion from the creatures underfoot. The ground wriggles with them, and they quiver with excitement, fear, or hunger; like beaten dogs they cringe before the stampede of Garou, except the frogs which hop madly, erratically, with no apparent purpose. Soon the sound of their croaking blots out the wind, it thumps against the air like a thousand drums and plays in the ear like a beating heart. Dozens of rodents scamper slowly out of the Garou's way as they advance towards the water, and dozens more just lie there, too ill or starved to hide. Those behind them, though, close in, slowly, greedily. They watch the Garou like vultures.

Cries-No-More holds a hand high in the air, signaling everyone to wait. His posture is surprisingly loose, even relaxed. He stares ahead at the water, arm poised above his head, ready to chop down at any moment and signal the attack. Shouting to those gathered, he howls out. ~Guard your mind! Absolutely no one goes to the water yet!~ His command is fierce and driven with his rank. Guards-The-Flame continues to look on edge, snarling deeply in her throat, turning herself about in a quick 360, staring at all the eyes that stare back at them. Dances Shadows clenches her fingers momentarily around the talen in her left hand. The strange smell around her keeps up, but once she gauges that the emaciated animals aren't attacking she looks beyond them, squinting towards the others and trying to make out what they might be. Howls-For-Glory watches with revulsion plain on his features as the tide of creatures seems to ebb for the moment. A long, low growl escapes him, aimed at the more insistant creatures. He hunkers down, preparing for what is to come. Fat-Ripper narrows her eyes dangerously, ears flattened. She seems repulsed by the sight of her brother rats. Sticking close to the pack, she hisses loudly between her clenched teeth. Three-Blades slows as the others come, and then takes note of the starving animals coming up from behind. She licks at her muzzle in brief concern, glancing back to Touch Deer after taking up a spot on the line. ~The water - be careful of it. It will call to you.~ Another muzzle-lick later, the Gnawer looks back towards the black inlet. Ever-Grinning hurries back to the pack, then shifts to the warform and waits on the Wyrmfoe's order. He growls ferociously at the advancing animals but doesn't attack yet, as he doesn't want to waste time on the weaklings.

Soon as the pack meets up with Resonance, Forath-Ripper continues to wait on the Wendigo's orders, bristling and looking more than ready. His razor sharp claws flex and gleam in anticipation, eyes staring straight at the water. Bloods-Bane growls and awaits any orders from the leaders of the night. He paws at the ground, ready and wanting to fight as his head moves from side to side and checking where the rest of his pack stands. Fierce Howl is clearly having a hard time keeping herself from attacking the rodents and weakly-hopping frogs. She utters a low, rumbly whine. Want to _kill_. Dagger's-Edge growls with growing impatience, but holds his position. An ear swivels backwards on the Slord philodox, tuning to the pawsteps of the animals behind the Garou. The weak prey scuttling around also get the halfmoon's eye as he shares the Talon's sentiment in the flick of his tail. Stands-in-rain has squashed something underfoot, and boy howdy he just doesn't wanna know. He's toughing it out, waiting, wanting to smack out at these things, but he'll save his strength for a more worthy opponent.

As the Garou come to a stop so do the small mammals behind them, slowly, watching, eager. They line up, more coming in behind, metres deep. Rabbits so skinny a human hand could clench around their bellies lift themselves up on their hind legs, turning their shiny glassy eyes towards the Garou, as groundhogs whimper and mewl. Like the animals clustered around Snow White they wait, eager but patient, curious, and terribly hungry. Above crows begin to gather, darker, blacker shapes against a sky now devoid of the sun's light. From the inlet a creeping, quiet song begins to sound: it's humming, soft and tuneful, between lips neither male nor female, and it calls to the Garou, gently, asking them in.

Cries No More's hackles begin to slowly, very slowly, raise. His ears lay flat and point directly at the polluted inlet and the meters upon meters of diseased, wasted animals. ~Wait for it to come to us....~ Three-Blades shakes her head again, this time growling out staunch refusal to heed the call of the water. She then looks upwards to the blackening sky, uttering a short whine. Howls-For-Glory looks about to break into violence, by the way he trembles where he stands. ~They're surrounding us. Kill them now?~ When he hears the voice, he cocks his head, and shakes it as if a bothersome insect were circling. To stave it off, the Galliard lifts his muzzle and lets out the Anthem of War, long and loud. Ever-Grinning remains still, waiting for the word, but he bristles and tenses, eager to kill something. He cries out a warning, ~Don't listen to it!~ Guards-The-Flame is growing agitated as she shakes her head violently for a moment, then sends up her own howl on the coat tails of the Fianna's, letting her powerful voice sky rocket up into the heavens. ~Come cowards of the Wyrm, show your true face!~ ~They're waiting for us to die,~ Fat-Ripper growls out between tight-clamped teeth, as she waits anxiously between water and creatures. Dances Shadows turns her head back towards the inlet, and her lips peel back away from her teeth--a long, slow growl that heightens into a snarl. Most of her attention remains on the hungry, eager animals, but her eyes are drawn inexorably toward the water.
Eagerness mixing with bloodlust, Requiem plus two all grind at their respective grindstones of patience, waiting for someone, or something, to make the first move. The Garou on the rightside party all eye water, animal and skies in wait.

It's like a Mexican stand-off with no guns and only one participant: the Garou wait, rage growing, itching under their skin. The animals wait, too, glass-eyed and silent, passive as if they were stuffed. The plop of frogs jumping in and out of the water, sudden as gunshots, pierces through the dry, grating sound of their croaking.

Cries No More suddenly drops his hand down, like a hatchet. ~Keep the line tight!~ This is all he commands before moving forward, heading for the twisted animals before the line at a fast walk.

Dances Shadows moves forward at the order, though she's cautious, almost stiff in her movements. Her attention shifts to the water, though that strange smell, the scent of Man, continues to hover around her. Howls-For-Glory nearly leaps to obey Cries' commands. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Guards-Flame, he moves to lash out at the foremost rank of vermin with his claws. Three-Blades proceeds forward at a clip that matches the others. The ragabash continues to monitor around with her ears turning, eyes a bit distracted by all the movement. Guards-The-Flame, alongside the Fianna, continues forward as well, looking more than eager to pay Gaia's vengence back to this poor, mutated lot of sick animals. Any that come near, is sure to find her claws sharp and swift. Olga drops to Hispo and advances slowly, certainly not the first one. There's relief in her to finally be able to do something, but still, she's cautious. She snaps at any animals in her way. Ever-Grinning advances with his pack toward the animals. He steps on a misshapen frog and squishes it into green jelly as he moves toward the sickened animals.

Finally! The signal turns something on in the Fenrir's eyes as Forath-Ripper lumbers forward along with the rest of the line, looking to stomp and crush anything that approaches underfoot. Bloods-Bane falls in rank with everyone else, jaws snapping with anticipation. Edge starts forward with the others, claws and muzzle curling as he looses another low growl. Fierce Howl all but leaps forward, like a racehorce let out of the starting gate. She pounces at the first critter to get within reach, massive jaws going wide to snap-snap the life out of it. Stands-in-rain lets out an eager grunt. He keeps in tight, aware of who is to his left, and who to his right; he will need to count on them, and defend them in turn.

Only when the Garou begin moving forward is the fear put back in the long thick rows of animals. They scatter like prey, beating fast retreat towards far off holes in the ground. Famished stragglers are crushed beneath feet without even the energy to summon a protesting whine, while hobbled creatures, bowlegged or broken-limbed, struggle vainly to get away from the snap of jaws. Soon bloody splotches stain the black whithered ground. Only Fierce Howl is quick enough to catch the healthy, as she bolts out ahead of the line, gleefully separating a hairless groundhog from its head, before catching a bunny between her jaws, brittle bones all going off at once like bubble wrap.

Cries No More screams, ~Don't go to the shore, keep the line! Fierce Howl, back to the line!~ The Wendigo himself has stopped several yards back from the water, not leading the party so far forward as to reach the shore itself. Moving along, Three-Blades tries to pick and choose her targets, carefully leaving the rat killing to the others. Every dying squeak and crunch of bone seems to anger the ragabash a bit, as she flattens her ears down and goes about the gruesome job. Dances Shadows halts in place, though with a visible effort. She drops into a three point crouch and peers out over the water, looking for the source of the strange, tempting voice. Howls-For-Glory remains steadfastly where he is, scanning the area for any remaining foes within reach, or the appearance of any further enemies. His ears are pricked, his eyes sharp. Guards-The-Flame glances about once more as she sniffs the air, then lets her eyes fall upon the water. Slowly, she leans over and picks up a heavy looking stone, then lobs it hard over the Garou's heads and into the dark, murky depths. Ever-Grinning loses heart when he sees all the animals running away, almost pitying them. He continues advancing toward the water, however, apparently with the idea of trying to entice whatever's in there out.

Fat-Ripper dutifully crushes a baby mouse, stunted and tailless, underneath her heavy Hispo paw, though she winces as she does it. She lifts her paw and continues on; her tail is tucked straight between her legs.

Snarling, Forath-Ripper growls after the Talon. ~Get back here. This isn't the fight we are here for.~ The Get of Fenris shakes with rage, stomping on another crippled frog that is near by, hearing it squish and feeling it ooze between his toes. Snarling, Forath-Ripper growls after the Talon. ~Get back here. This isn't the fight we are here for.~ The Get of Fenris shakes with rage, stomping on another crippled frog that is near by, hearing it squish and feeling it ooze between his toes. Crushing a gopher mercilessly underfoot, Dagger's-Edge picks up the carcass of the dead animal and hurls it forcefully out towards the inlet after the stone. The Shadow Lord snorts, clearly angry at something unvoiced. Fierce Howl checks herself, pulling up short with a whine of protest; all of her instincts are telling her to pounce and bite and kill the prey all around her feet. She pants quickly as she retreats back to the line with Requiem. Stands-in-rain takes an envious look from the Talon, once she has rejoined the others. Presently his eyes turn to the Wendigo, expectant, and the water beyond. The stone makes a disgusting but almost fascinating splash. It all looks like bile, and would smell as much-- if he could even smell anything anymore, his nose practically numb from the chemical stink. He grimaces hard.

The animals scampering away come up behind the Garou now, their fear gone, turned to hunger, and they watch them with diminishing patience. Their whines and scratchings at the black dirt join the constant, croaking sound of the frogs. They wait, like they're stuck to the silty ground. The splash of the stone is almost blotted out by the sounds around them. The humming though stops; there's a sudden strange stillness to the inlet, and ripples don't form from the impact like they should.

Jihgfed pages to the room: There aren't any large, heavy rocks around, it's a silty, sandy sort of area, like marshland, so I'm magically transforming Alicia's rock into smaller, smooth stone, like the kind used for skipping. Sorry Ali. :)

Cries No More frowns as the small stone fails to make ripples in the water. ~There's something in the water, and the animals are not a danger to us. Watch the shore. Eamon, don't get too close. I want us to approach as a solid line, be ready for anything.~ The Wendigo begins to pace towards the water at a slow, guarded walk. Ever-Grinning takes a few steps back and waits for Touch Deer to do whatever it is he's doing, snarling and growling at the water all the while. Howls-For-Glory acknowledges Cries' commands with a grunt, moving at a slow lope beside Guards-Flame. He looks like a high-tension wire, trembling at the brink of violence. The Child of Gaia continues forward, her fur glowing a light whisp of silver as she moves, snarling loudly, glancing over her shoulder at times towards the animals behind her. She rumbles to the Wendigo. ~I have a feeling its going to get messy, quick.~ Fat-Ripper continues to creep down towards the water in Hispo; she keeps glancing up towards Cries-No-More, and each step is uncertain and grudging - the bloodlust which had been in her before is gone, replaced only with anxiety. Flickering an ear, Three-Blades watches the stone that skips over the water with morbid curiosity. Picking up another stone, she throws it as well, to see if it her stone has the same effect before continuing her walk forward. Ever-Grinning takes a few steps back and waits for Touch Deer to do whatever it is he's doing, snarling and growling at the water all the while. The Glass Walker's ears lift again, and she chances a glance over her shoulder. She chuffs quietly down the line, ~They might rush us if something attacks from the front.~ Dances Shadows turns slightly, putting her body lengthwise, one side facing the water, the other toward the animals.

Soon as the group starts to lurch forward, Forath-Ripper walks as well, continuing to allow his smelly gift to waft into the air. He drops his shoulders some, claws at the ready as he eyes the murky water. Bloods-Bane grows up and into crinos, stepping along with the rest of the line. His eyes stay on the slightest movement in the water, ready. Watching the result of the stone skipping over the water instead of dropping in, Dagger's-Edge pins back an ear. ~Fucking come out already,~ the halfmoon finally rattles out, loud enough for those around him to hear. The waiting is hard on the Red Talon, who lowers her head and utters another small whine, then opens her bloodied jaws and pants, drooling copiously. She continues to move with the line. Stands-in-rain laces his long clawed fingers together, and turns out his hands for a crack. Then he's flexing his talons, ready and -then some-, on edge with the pregnant moon, and this sad landscape.

The Garou move up to the water's edge, and the croaking of the frogs seems to grow louder, crescendoing, though perhaps that's merely tension. Occasionally there's a bit of movement in the water, like a fish coming near the surface, or a shift in current. Slowly a soggy bit of cardboard comes drifting in from the river, caught up in an eddy, to bank itself on the shore.

The humming starts up again, though quieter, now. It's almost delicate, thick though it is with rank water.

Cries No More shouts, ~Everyone stay at the edge, no one goes in. It wants us to become impatient and swim in to it, we will not give it the satisfaction. Stay you ground. Stay ready~ Howls-For-Glory growls in impatience, shredding the silty ground at his paws with an excess of nervous energy. ~We've been ready! Can't we bring it up?!~ The Child of Gaia, likewise, is with the Fianna on this one. She seems angry and impatient. ~Best to wait, then leap in and die. Perhaps one of the Ragabash can draw it out?~ She glances to Ever-Grinning. Now at the water's edge, Three-Blades stoops down to have a look at the black liquid. Though the humming is distracting, the ragabash slowly reaches down to first dip a hand lightly into the water. She remains cautious, her weight shifted in preparation to jump backwards if necessary. Dances-Shadows edges forward a bit, snarling in pent up frustration, but doesn't get 'too' close to the water's edge. She keeps an eye on those animals, just in case. Fat-Ripper stays on the edge in every sense of the word, and though she seems more than happy to keep out of the water it does nothing to improve her mood. Her attention keeps shifting back to the animals, her ears always going flat when it does, like there's something secretly foreboding about them. Ever-Grinning slowly approaches the edge of the water but doesn't actually enter. He growls impatiently at Touch Deer. ~We have to draw it out. It'll never come out otherwise.~ He turns to Fat-Ripper. ~If there's a spirit in the water, can you command it?~

Forath Ripper nearly blows up at the Wendigo's call to hold, sending daggers over in the other pack's direction. He stays silent, glancing to the Fenris pack, rumbling to them. ~Continue to hold, be patient.~ He attempts, though his own is running thin. Bloods-Bane gives a deep growl, aimed at the water. His eyes scan back and forth, looking for movement, anxious. Fierce Howl tilts her bloodied muzzle up and lets out a deep howl, both a cry to war and a calling-out to the thing in the river. Her desire for battle and growing impatience is palpable in her song. Listening to the Talon's howl, Dagger's-Edge just gets more edgy. Only the Fenrir's command keeps his rage at bay. Stands-in-rain adds his voice to the Talon's, and though it cannot match the savage beauty of the Galliard's call, his howl has got an earthy edge to it, lower, and a rough support. His patience is fraying, anger in his blood like poison.

The sound from the inlet gets louder, more insistent, tugging, grabbing. A groundhog begins to mewl like a starved cat, sounds scratching at eardrums. Night has completely fallen, now, and there are no lights in sight but the stars above and the bright, full, angry moon, and the faint gruesome glow which wafts off the water.

Suddenly shifts down to Hispo. Cries No more begins walking out to the water, and actually begins walking /on/ the water. His posture indicates he's ready at any moment to spring left, right, or backwards as the situation may warrant. He inches out, growling, ~I will draw it out.~ Rumbling deep in her throat, Guards-The-Flame cautions the Wendigo with a loud chuff, inching closer as well to back him up. Fat-Ripper answers Ever-Grinning, quietly, raw-voiced, like she's voicing a failing, ~No.~ A second later she adds, ~If it's a spirit, we can't kill it here, anyway.~ Ever-Grinning looks back to Touch Deer. ~Maybe the water is just a gateway, then. If we use the water's reflection and cross over, we can fight whatever it is in the shadow.~ The Gaian answers the Fianna. ~It'd be suicide to go into the Umbra in a blight like this. Just stand ready.~ Three-Blades' whine turns into a growl, questioning but not challenging the Wendigo's decision. That however gets sidetracked as he starts to walk onto the water. Dances-Shadows flicks her ears forward, but otherwise remains quiet and steady.

Howls-For-Glory watches as Cries No More steps onto the water, his expression one of amazement. That is, until he, too, joins in Fierce Howl's call of battle and challenge.

Forath Ripper continues to wait, anxiously, inching closer as he snarls off after the Wendigo. ~Don't kill yourself!~ He then joins in with the war anthem of his pack. Bloods-Bane paces in place, anxious still. Dagger's-Edge pins both ears back now at the howling, claws clenching into fists as he watches the Wendigo walk out onto the water. Unable to contain all the anger, he too looses a full out howl, ringing dischordantly with the others. The Talon and Slord ahroun continue to howl, calling out whatever creature may be lurking in wait.

The inlet's still surface doesn't fracture under Cries-No-More's touch. He walks across the water, immune to its pull and grime. The song gets louder, more fervent: there's neediness in it, now. The water begins to move, there's a great shifting and churning, dislodging sediment and styrofoam long stuck to the bottom, but nothing but effluvium pierces the surface. The animals' anxiety increases, and a tattered rabbit begins to stamp its foot madly against the ground.

Howls-For-Glory allows his part in the howl to dwindle away to nothing. He's watching Cries-No-More with rapt attention. As the water bubbles, he tenses. But when nothing appears, there's almost a slump. ~It's almost playing with us,~ he declares, outraged. Three-Blades looks out over the water and back onto the bank with the stamping animals, her worry growing. ~Should we go after him?~ she queries to her packmates. ~Can you walk on water?~ Guards-The-Flame quips back to her pack mate as she continues forward, reaching out to slosh a heavy foot into the water, quickly, nose wrinkling up at the gunk. Cries No More snarls, then lets loose a howl across the water, a dissonant challenge from where he stands on the disgusting, putrid inlet's surface. Dances Shadows begins to growl again, her eyes narrowing. The fur along the ride of her back and neck bristles visibly. She remains in her current position, but her muscles are tensed; ready. Ever-Grinning stands ready by the edge of the water, waiting for something to show itself.

The Forseti tilts his chin upwards and bellows out a challenging hell as well, stomping his heavy feet in a pounding rhythm along with Bloods-Bane. Bloods-Bane joins in the howl, pounding on the ground with his foot, beating the ground in a rhythm. Dagger's-Edge lets his howl fade away to the stomping and howling, but in his silence, stews angrily. Firing off another howl on the tail of the one before, the Talon vents her battle eagerness into the air. Stands-in-rain renews his howl, letting a few yips and barks slip into it, a high scraping edge in it. As the others he stomps, out of ideas, if anything the vibration may annoy the creature, or at the very least splatter some of these frogs.

Nothing answers the challenge except for the song of sluggish water, and the croak of frogs. A few animals towards the back of the cluster begin to leave, skittering quickly off like bugs when the lights go on, returning to their holes.

Cries No More suddenly takes Crinos, his shift instaneous withe help of Rage. He dives down and into the water, clawing for something, apparently, beneath him. He lets out a gutteral scream that's cut off as his head dives underwater. Guards-The-Flame jumps back a bit soon as her foot finds something beneath the water, then snarls out loudly. ~Feels like a hand!~ With that, the glowing Gaian plunges her claws into the water, searching to snag something and drag it up. ~Be careful Cries-No-More!~ Howls-For-Glory snarls in a fit of temper. ~How are we supposed to fight what we can't see?!~ He flexes his claws, eyes murky with ill-contained anger. A snarl from the Walker indicates her extremely flagging patience. ~Get out here, you fucking tuna.~ She inches forward, just a little closer, and crouches even lower to the ground. ~I cannot walk on water, but I can -swim-,~ the Gnawer ragabash quips back. Sticking out her tonguetip, the Gnawer pushes forward just a few steps from the line, venturing into the water a few paces in.

Soon as the Wendigo attacks, Forath-Ripper snarls as well, lunging forward as well, stepping a few feet into the water, snarling. ~Come creature, hurry up and die!~ He roars out, swiping down across the water's surface with his claws. Bloods-Bane comes up by Brom and Dwight and looks to his back, making sure that something doesn't come up behind them. Dagger's-Edge snarls out in release as his pack alpha goes in, following after with claws curled under the surface. Fierce Howl jumps after the rest, keeping pace with her temporary pack and eager to find something to snap her jaws on. Stands-in-rain's howl tapers off, and as he licks his chops, he looks out to the Wendigo with a bit of admiration and some envy. Claws at the ready he wades into the water as well, waiting, growling softly.

Ever-Grinning remains at the water's edge, watching Touch Deer. When nothing happens, he calls out, ~Now what?~

Cries-No-More disappears under the water, drug down by the head which pierces its surface. There is no splash, no commotion, once he's disappeared. Nothing ventures past the water's surface as the Garou come tearing in, invading, but they can all feel it, moving beneath them, around legs and claws. It's all quiet chaos, things seem to move in slow motion. Stands-in-Rain is suddenly buried up to his waist, lurching forward, like the silty earth beneath him has given way.

Dances Shadows squeezes the talen in her claws and leaps forward, kicking off against the sandy bank. For all of her holding back before, it's like someone has loosed a spring--she's moving as fast as she possibly can, directly for the spot where Cries-No-More disappeared, ignoring any semblance of the creature below them until if or when she gets there. Ever-Grinning leaps forward into the water after Touch Deer, diving down to pull him out or kill whatever's got him. Feeling teeth sinking into her flesh, Three-Blades yelps out and scrambles for the near shore. She takes a swipe with her claws down into the water, perhaps contacting something. Howls-For-Glory is at the very edge of his patience. When Cries is jerked under the water, he snarls and moves toward the edge of the water. ~We can no longer wait!~ Guards-The-Flame finds something in her grasp and digs her toes into the ground and then /yanks/ with all her worth, trying to tug whatever it is she has grabbed with all her might.

Fat-Ripper hesitates but then springs forward to assist Guards-Flame, splashing into the water to try and sieze whatever she's got, and dig it up as well.

Bloods-Bane jumps in with Guards-The-Flame, grabbing for whatever he can in the water and pulling. At least, Bane hopes, this will take the creature from hurting the others... Maybe. As Stands in the Rain sinks down, Forath Ripper jerks his head up and lunges, looking to hook his arms around his pack mate and tug him upwards and out to his feet. Edge plunges after the sunken Shadow Lord as well, lending his arms to help the ahroun back onto his feet. Fierce Howl leaps in to action, biting and clawing at the unseen enemy, releasing her pent up rage into furious attacks around the Requiem pack's area, helping to fend off or deter whatever might come after them. Frustrated, Stands in the Rain struggles after feeling himself sink down, water sloshing up about his body. As the Fenrir grasps him from behind and starts to tug, he looks to aid his pack brother by shuffling on his feet, eyes smoldering. ~Give me something to kill!~

Ever-Grinning and Dances-Shadows go plunging in through the water near where Cries-No-More fell under, though only one of them keeps above the water. Ever-Grinning goes under just as Touch Deer had, like his legs had been kicked out from under him, the ground given way. Three-Blades thrust into the black water strikes nothing but the silty bottom, stirring up sediment. Guards-Flame, Bloods-Bane, and Fat-Ripper struggle to unearth whatever is beneath them but it's like trying to pull an island out of the sea; still, it comes by inches, and eventually most of a human elbow crests the water's surface. Stands-in-the-Rain struggles to pull his way out of the murky ground and though his packmates help him the best they can manage is a tie in this tug of war, struggling against the beast which is sucking him in.

Dances Shadows continues out, still as fast as she can move through the water. Once she reaches the approximate place where she say Cries-No-More go down, she sucks in a deep breath and dives--eyes trying to pierce the gloom, claws either trying to strike at the whatever-it-is, or if there's nothing but sand, to dig as fast and furiously as possible. Howls-For-Glory plows forward, moving to help those uncovering the creature beneath the water. Taking grip where he can, he contributes his strength.
~Almost...there..you fucker!~ Guards the Flame doesn't let go of her prize as she continues to tug and pull, growling out loudly in frustration. ~Gaia!~ She wills herself to find strength as she takes a step back, trying to drag whatever it is she has upwards. Turning to look this way and that, the Gnawer ragabash chokes out a cry as she turns around to see Eamon go underwater. Gritting her teeth and sucking in a breath, the ragabash plunges her head beneath the surface, swimming for where she saw her packmate go down.

Not giving an inch, Forath-Ripper and Stands in the Rain continue to battle back against whatever it is that is tugging the Shadow Lord downwards. The Ahroun kicks out with his feet, unleashing claws, trying to snag whatever is near by as he allows the Half Moon to try and pull him out of the gloomy depths. Bloods-Bane continues to heave and pull, struggling with the others in tugging something out of the murky depths. Edge grips on the other side of Stands-in-rain, calling on Fenris to aid in him. Fierce Howl finds an open portion to latch onto, her strong teeth clamping down and trying to help the others now.

The water gets thick as silt and other things begin to muddy up from the bottom, and here and there, now, red pierces the black. The four Garou's prize comes up more quickly now, as they all struggle for footing against it. It rises like a submerged ship, but as the tightly cocked elbow breaches the surface it goes limp and dangling. The skin is pallid and blue-veined, long dead, and an armpit that shines like scales is coming next when there's a great movement of water, fast and all-encompassing like the earth itself is moving, toppling Guards-Flame and Bloods-Bane as they're hit by something massive and flexible, like a giant whip, that leaves slime coating their legs. With so violent a wrench that he must have been released, Stands-in-Rain comes free, peeling off most of the flesh off one calf as it goes. His legs are covered with deep nicks and bites like they'd been dangled in a piranha tank, and he looks unable to stand. Quietly, Three-Blades, too, disappears, and now in the air there's only two groups struggling. The surface begins to still.

Howls-For-Glory lets out a snarl. Missed by whatever struck Bane and Guards-Flame, he sets his claws into the silt and continues to pull at the arm. ~You're not getting away!~ His claws flex and dig into the arm in his hands. As she hits the water with a splash, Guards The Flame doesn't waste any time in getting back up, snarling in frustration as she looks about the battle zone. She attempts to dive her claws and rip at whatever it is that Howls for Glory is holding on, looking to score a wound. ~This is not working! Where is Ever-Grinning, Three-Blades?!~ She roars out. Breaking the surface to breathe, the Gnawer ragabash pops back out of the water, somewhat treading briefly and getting her bearings right before diving back down. Her arms reach out through the water, hunting for her packmate.

Struggling with Stands in the Rain, Forath Ripper starts to push the Ahroun out of the water and onto land, growling loudly in his throat. ~This is stupid, we are all going to die here!~ He roars in frustration, eyes searching once more over the water. Edge grunts out in strain as he seeks out semi-solid footing beneath to pull the ahroun ashore. Fierce Howl whines as the others in Requiem make their retreat, and takes cue from the Get to get back onto harder land. Bloods-Bane regroups and steps back, eyeing the water for any signs of the others that are lost within the blackness.

Two Crinos figures come smashing out of the water like corks, sucking in air and recovering their senses of direction. The sudden loss of two of their four nearly sends Fat-Ripper and Howls-for-Glory hurtling into the water, as limb sinks immediately and violently back into the water. The two Garou's hands stretch in the oily slick water as it yanks them down as well, until Guards-Flame's claws snap the arm at the bone, sending Fat-Ripper to the earth, and Howls-for-Glory stumbling back, severed arm clasped tight in his massive hand. Requiem scuttles back to the firmer dust of the blackened shore line, and whatever's down beneath the water doesn't follow them.

Cries-No-More bursts from the water a few seconds after Jeren, and immediately does his best to beat it towards land while keeping an arm around Jeren, to make sure she isn't snagged and dragged under without his realizing it. As he makes it further up towards shore, it's clear his left leg is somewhat useless and he's limping heavily. Howls-For-Glory looks at the arm in his hand for a moment as he recovers his balance, and growls mockingly at the creature that just sunk beneath the cloudy surface. ~Left something behind!~ The arm is tossed a few yards back as he retreats from the shoreline, and the Galliard takes stock. Soon as Touch Deer and Jeren are seen, Guards-The-Flame whips her eyes back to the water, searching, roaring out loudly. ~Three-Blades, Ever-Grinning!~ She looks on the verge of despair as she sloshes about the water. Dances Shadows gags and spits in equal, furious measures with her attempts to breathe again. There's not much relief in the decay-filled air, but it's better than water, and after a moment to try and regain her equilibrium, she kicks off again, clinging tightly to Cries-No-More as she tries to usher him toward land.

Bloods-Bane lunges after the two that come towards the edge, reaching out to drag TD and Jeren to safety. Soon as the Shadow Lord is ushered onto dry land, Forath-Ripper continues to stare out into the water, watching the others make their way out. With two of the Stag Pack still lost at sea, he looks eager to wade back in and fine them. Dagger's-Edge hauls ahroun onto the shore and then looks down to the injury of the ahroun. Grimacing in a weak lupine smile, Fierce Howl whines again, seeing the Wendigo battle-alpha come up towards the shore. The Talon too, still wants to resume the fight but waits for commands to do so.

Cries-No-More falls onto his back, blood pooling under his injured leg. ~Find the missing, then retreat!~ He obviously has no intentions, himself, of diving back in, what with barely being able to walk. Howls-For-Glory shakes his head. ~Glad I learned how to swim!~ He lumbers towards the water and moves to feel around for the missing. ~Ever-Grinning! Three-Blades!~ Continuing to lumber about, howling for her pack mates, Guards-The-Flame steps on something squirming about beneath her. Reaching down swiftly, she finds the body of her pack mate and begins to tug upwards. ~Three-Blades!~

Once she's on shore, Dances Shadows waves off any attempts at help. The oil-slicked Ragabash doesn't have any visible wounds, and she almost immediately turns to head back into the water again. ~Dig! They're down! Dig! Kill that shit-eating freak!~

Howls-for-Glory is pulled down into a tight sudden crouch as one of his legs is wrapped around and ripped down, leaving him in an extended squat like a Russian dance. Guards-Flame takes firm hold of Three-Blades' leg around the ankle, lifting it up out of the water. She doesn't come easy, though, like she's dug into rock.

Requiem and the pair that have joined them now hover at the water's edge, alternating between silent fuming and frustrated snarling as they wait for the ones who have the situation relatively under control to rescue the others. Bloods-Bane, being the closest to Dances Shadows for the moment, barks at the Glass Walker to hold her ground and makes to move towards her and stop her from getting back into the water.

Three-Blades thrashes in the water even as Alicia pulls, her own grip on Eamon locked tight.

Howls-For-Glory lets out a surprised snarl, leaning down to adjust to his awkward positioning. He rips into the water to slash at whatever has grabbed at him. With preternatural quickness, a second swipe of his black talons follows. Fat-Ripper and Guards-The-Flame continues to struggle with the CantoGnawer as the Gaian tugs and the Theurge looks to work and wedge the Stag pack mate free. Cries No More points at Howls-for-Glory. ~Someone help him! Don't let him go all the way under.~ He looks about the lake, frantic. ~Where did Eamon go under?!~ Dances Shadows turns on Bloods-Bane with an ugly, tooth-baring snarl. Her reply is wordless, but the meaning is clear enough, and she pulls away from the Get with a swift jerk before he can block her way completely. This is enough to shift her course a little, however, as she moves to help Guards-Flame, rather than plunge right back into the water itself.

Snarling, Forath Ripper hurries through the water after Howls For Glory, looking to help the Fianna. ~Blood Bane, Dagger's Edge, make sure none of us go back down under!~" Bloods-Bane nods his head and moves to the edge, grabbing for anybody that comes near. Edge also nods in compliance, and Fierce Howl stands by just in case as well.

Working together the Garou manage to extricate their fellows. In the shallow water the thing slashes at their legs, ripping apart flesh and smashing anklebones, dying the water at the shore a deep tainted red. Three-Blades comes up hard, her hands and arms gripped tight around Ever-Grinning's stomach.
Ever-Grinning is limp as a rag-doll, his eyes closed, his skin as much raw open flesh as fur. He doesn't breathe but his blood still beats, as it comes spilling out to soak into the black earth.
From afar, to the room, Jihgfed speeds it up.

The animals come forward now, as the body is dragged onto shore. They're curious and hungry and they demand with loud whines a share of the meal they see before them.

Soon as her pack mates pop up, Guards-The-Flame only grunts as she is attacked from below, but thanks to her gift of resistance, she only feels the thuds. Grasping the Fianna, she starts to limp back to the shore line, holding his body tightly. ~Three Blades, get to the shore, I will heal our brother. Howls for Glory, get out of the water.~ She takes charge now that the battle is over, waving a paw back towards Requiem. ~Get the animals back, they will not taste our blood!~ As soon as the two Garou are brought up, pretty much the instant Dances Shadows gets a look at Eamon, the Glass Walker seems to go absolutely nuts. It's not an actual frenzy, as she doesn't attack any of her fellow Garou. Instead, she shifts immediately to hispo and lunges at one of the lashing...things, biting and snapping and clawing at anything remotely resembling Wyrmspawn. Cries-No-More looks about, then calls to Fat-Ripper. ~Heal Eamon!~

Three-Blades coughs up water, crawling and sprawling out on the shore, bleeding from innumerable wounds all over her body where she looks like she's been flayed and bitten. Dripping both water and blood, the ragabash splutters as she regains some semblance of balance.

Fat-Ripper, as soon as Cries-No-More barks his order to her, looks frantically about. Finding Guards-Flame, she just repeats it: ~Heal Ever-Grinning!~

Soon as he helps Howls For Glory get freed from whatever it is that was binding him, Forath-Ripper snarls out loudly. ~Out! Lets get out of here!~ He snarls, starting out of the water, snapping at the animals that inch closer, teeth bared, ears flat against his skull as he whirls into the Hispo. Bloods-Bane awaits to pick up those who will need helping up, and in the meantime aids Dagger's-Edge and Fierce Howl in deterring the hungry animals. The three Garou charge with bared snarls and bloodlust at the would-be scavengers.

Howls-For-Glory manages to escape the water without further incident, and turns to confront the animals. Anger burns through him at seeing his tribemate. ~No meals for you tonight!~ He strikes out at the nearest creatures. By now, Guards-The-Flame is already in the healing process for Eamon, placing her hands upon his body as she runs out of the water, panting heavily. Her fingertips glow lightly.
The animals go tearing away, terrified, as the Garou scare them off their meal. The inlet is again still, the water unbroken. The hum of crickets and the rattle of frogs' croaks fill the night.

Dances Shadows remains in the shallows, her muzzle dripping. The sudden disappearance of the enemy seems to enrage her even further--not supernatural Rage, but the ordinary kind built up and bolstered by Luna's gift. She begins to stalk, eyes blazing, further into the depths.

Bloods-Bane, Dagger's-Edge and Fierce Howl all have their fill of chasing down and killing what they can reach within the short sprint, but as they return with somewhat bloodied muzzles, the two of Requiem break off to grab the Walker ragabash from the waters at Brom's order. Fierce Howl returns to Dwight's side.

With a spit of Rage like an angry cat, Fat-Ripper rips the arm from Howls-for-Glory's hand and sends it flinging, as hard as she can, at Dances Shadows' head. She might not have been able to do much this night, but she can do that, at least.

The arm smacks Dances Shadows good and proper, with a rather wet sounding 'shlmph!' noise. In and of itself, all it really does is cause her to buck forward a little and make her head spin, but that's enough for Bloods-Bane and Dagger's-Edge to reach her. She's no match for the two of them together (and arguably, for either one of them apart), but she doesn't give up easily. The Walker continues to struggle all the way back to shore, snarling, hissing, cursing, but refraining from actually biting or clawing the two.