Logfile from GarouMU.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (94% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 12 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.12 and steady, and the relative humidity is 72 percent. The dewpoint is 53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 19:25 Pacific Time on Wed Jun 22 2005.

Silent Valley(#1351RJ)
Tall pine trees extend upwards like rows of spears from the valley walls, blocking off the sowing of the wind. The valley stretches from north to south, in almost a straight line. Steep slopes rise up along the east and the west, carrying evergreen soldiers. A small spring is situated near the southern end of the valley; a mirror-like pool that reflects the deep green of the pine and the brilliant blue of the sky during the day while showing only the ominous darkness framing a slightly lighter celestial heaven during the night. Hanging over the valley is a silence which is neither ominous nor foreboding, but tends, rather, toward a more meditative solitude.
A beaten trail winds up the slope between the trunks of the pines and disappears over the top of the western ridge. Situated beneath the shadows of the evergreens, a small cave opens into the side of eastern wall.
Contents:
Dillen
Brom
Obvious exits:
Cave  Foothills  

"Hey, Kenneth!" Brom bellows out as he walks into the area, rocking his shoulders slowly back some. "You out here?"

Dillen follows along, suitably grouchy and hands shoved into his pockets. "S'where he said he'd be." He shrugs and looks about.

Dagger's-Edge isn't seen throughout the valley, but his scent is evident here and there, winding around through parts of forest and mountain. The land is nearly pristine, aiding in any search for the elusive Shadow Lord by keeping his tracks evident. Tonight, the halfmoon is found out near the southern spring, at the moment lapping up water and cleaning off his muzzle from some recent hunt.

Dagger's-Edge also looks up at the smell, and sound, of his packmates. He seems to spot them before they do him, and with a shake of his fur tosses up a sharp howl to indicate where he is.

"Well, there he be." Brom rumbles in his throat as he heads over in the Lord's direction, offering up a quick grin to the Lupine. "Hey bro. How you doing?" He asks, kneeling down next to him.

Dillen walks over and flops down on the ground. "How's things?" As he looks to Kenneth.

Dagger's-Edge sits, licking off droplets from the end of his jaws before shifting up to join the others in birthform. A hand wipes off what wetness remains on his chin, but the Shadow Lord still looks rather rough around the edges from the wilderness living. "Better than that ahroun, for sure," he replies stiffly, cracking bones back into better places.

"Dwight loved every minute of it." Brom says with a wry grin on his face. "Met up with him this morning. He is still eager to join up with us and become apart of Requiem."

Dillen pulls up a patch of grass and filters through it, picking at a piece and shredding it. "That was fucking nuts last night. No chimera for two moots and a bad great hunt. Something has gotta change."

Kenneth looks away from the pair, out towards the general forest beyond the spring. "Where's he from?" the philodox asks, avoiding talking about the hunt for now. Still, he does look tense in the presence of the others.

"He is all over the place. Montana, Alabama. Two places he mentioned before. He's Southern, that is for sure." Brom says with a nod of his head. "He's older, about thirty years old. Isn't real ambitious, just wants to kill the Wyrm."

"He's a good guy, though." Dillen shrugs, "Smart."

Kenneth only looks back when the age of the ahroun is mentioned. It's a brief glance, before it's away again. "Christ, he's old," is what the halfmoon mutters first. "Older than Jarred was," he adds next, nearly inaudibly. Then Kenneth looks back to the two. "Did he already give chiminage, or was the Great Hunt supposed to be it?"

"I think the Great Hunt was it, maybe the Toxin Bane also. He's /real/ eager to meet Snaekolfr." Brom says, growing silent. "He mentioned Lucas and Jarred to me... he agreed that Jarred was a fucker."

Dillen rolls his eyes at the mention of Lucas and Jarred. He becomes quiet over where he sits, slowly shaking his head. He mutters something under his breath and lays back on the grass.

Kenneth stiffens again, pulling a hand through his hair as he stands and paces off a ways from the Get. "You two have fun with your new playmate, then."

"Kenneth, what the hell is your problem? You should be happy to know that you got someone in your tribe here that supports you and Lucas." Brom pushes himself up. "Jarred was a fucker and he deserved to die. You know that, or else you wouldn't have took his throat. He asked me if Lucas was redeemable and we both agreed that he was. Not everyone thinks that Requiem should be burned at the stake."

Kenneth turns back around, left eye half closing. "I don't got a problem," he replies evenly. "All that shit about Jarred is in the past now. They're both roasting in their respective rings of Hell, wherever that may be." The philodox straightens up, facing off now. "You seem real happy about having another packmate, so good for you."

"I want you and him to talk and get to know each other. We aren't making any decisions without you and Michael's permission." Brom says as he follows after the Shadow Lord. "We're a pack afterall. If you guys think Dwight and Kevin will fit in, then they will. I have a good feeling that they will and once they do, we'll be an even more stronger pack. Right now we're forging a new name for ourselves, and we're putting the old Requiem in the past. You're all the family I got out here right now and I want each and every one of us to be great."

Dillen takes a deep breath and looks over at Kenneth. "It's your pack too, man. You have a decision in this." Dillen sighs deeply. "You are right, past is past... But there is also future."

Kenneth narrows his eyes again down to slits, lips drawing tight as he snorts. "Family," he echoes lowly, half-turning to watch the dying sun. "He still has to talk to Cutter anyway, before he's 'in' anywhere."

"He already talked to Cutter, and Cutter gave him the go ahead to use the Hunt as Chiminage." Brom says with a tilt of his head.

"Whoopdee-doo," Kenneth replies monotonely, a dismissive hand waving through the air. "And Megan?"

Dillen flops back down on the grass. "Man. Same old Kenneth. Glass is half empty."

"Megan hasn't been around since the moot. Don't know where she is at, who cares." Brom says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You OK, Ken?" He asks.

"Oh yeah," Kenneth replies with dripping sarcasm. "Birds, bees, goin' a whole fuckin' month without a hot shower, gettin' run out of territory by other packs... havin' lots of fun alright."

"Well, that is over with now, right? I can take you back to my place, we'll get you a shower, steak dinner, and then sit down and bullshit about the Pistons and the Spurs if you want." Brom says with a motion of his hands "You can beat me at tennis again."

Dillen just rests his head on his hands which are propped on his knees. "Kenneth. It's past. All done. It sucks, missed you a lot, man."

Kenneth shakes his head, looking back to the two Get. "Bullshit," he snorts. "It ain't over 'til Miss High and Mighty Megan says it's over. I don't care to cross the line and extend this so-called probation. Besides, it's nice out here." The philodox sounds a bit like he's convincing himself, aloud.

Growling deep in his throat, Brom says. "Then I will try and speak to her tomorrow morning on your behalf and tell her that your thirty days are up and that I request she makes things right again. Everyone knows the month is up, you shouldn't have to hide out here in this place."

"Screw that. Time's up." Dillen growls out and looks over to Kenneth.

Kenneth looks skyward, facing the full moon. "I'm not going back. Not yet," he says simply. "And you guys shouldn't even be here. Give another reason for White Bear to snap at us."

"White Bear is dead, he goes by a new name now since Uktena took him in. He had to leave his past behind, so if he gives you /any/ shit, you fuck him up, OK?" Brom says with a growl. "And I want you to tell me, so /I/ can deal with him as a Half Moon, and as a Get."

"He lost a challenge to me. Screw him." Dillen shakes his head. "He's an ass anyway."

Kenneth glances back, somewhat surprised first with mention of White Bear being dead - that is, until he parses the statement. "Lost a challenge to you?" he then echoes back to Dillen, looking to the younger of the two Fenrir first. "The hell? Fuckin' a..." He turns around, muttering lowly before speaking up. "What date is it?"

"Its um.. Wednsday.. I think." Brom says as he furrows his brows a bit. "Not sure what the actual date is. I just know to wake up in the morning."

"June 22." Dillen says as he looks at Kenneth. "Yeah. His terms. A staredown. He lost." Dillen folds his arms across his chest and lays back on the ground. "Even though he is now Circle Keeper... Still an ass."

Kenneth grunts again, calculating. "Then it hasn't been thirty days yet," he utters quietly. "Call me when it's the 24th, and then we'll talk." With that, he shifts back down to lupus and starts off up the valley again. Only the back of his tail offers a wave goodbye to the other two.

"Yeah, Yeah... bye Kenneth." Brom says as he shrugs his shoulders back a bit, then glances over to Dillen. "Let's go."

Dillen gets up and follows Brom out, hands in pockets.