Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (38% full).
It is currently 10:02 Pacific Time on Thu Jan 5 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining. The temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.18 and rising, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 45 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)

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.
Contents:
Stacey
Obvious exits:
Highway 22  Overgrown Path  Sunrise Road  Farmhouse  Caern of the Hidden Walk  Creek  Central Bawn  Southern Bawn  Northern Bawn  

Dagger's-Edge lopes through the bordering edge of the western forest, halfway between bawn and the farm's large backyard. The Shadow Lord pauses to shake himself out of rainwater, standing there dripping beneath the dry, thick coverage of the evergreens.

Walks-Middle charges out from the trees, barrelling toward the Shadow Lord, her manner playful. Her charge is slowed as she slips on one of the larger mud puddles, but she merely barks a hello and runs to try to pounce him anyways.

Dagger's-Edge immediately comes alert as over the rainwater is the patter of paws in puddles, and turns defensively. Hard to scent a wolf with the rain, but he recognizes her without doubt. And without doubt of just how much mud is on her paws, the Shadow Lord makes his attempts at dodging them. Lucky for him, his ground traction proves drier than the other's, and he just slips back a couple of paces so that she doesn't get more than guard hairs. The Shadow Lord blinks a couple more times, unable to hide at least an ounce of amusement from his normally serious countenance. Only one wolf in the whole of these woods would pounce me, he chuffs at the Child. That wolf, is you.

Walks-Middle prances in place and lolls out her tongue, amused and looking extremely happy. Her manner seems to ask: Guess what? Guess what? Guess what? The young wolf lifts her head proudly. This one has been accepted into Ridgeline! She is a Guardian and a child of Bison.

Dagger's-Edge slowly inclines his head, demeanor shifting from amusement to a mixture of reverted calm and sudden hesitation. A Guardian now? That same head lowers, as if instinct dictate his actions to submit to one whose territory he's on. Then, be a good one, Walks-the-Middle-Road. You have a long, long road ahead.

Walks-Middle seems to have not expected that reaction, but she continues on happily enough. This one will be a good Guardian. She wants to be. The young wolf tilts her head. Have you been well?

Dagger's-Edge replies that he's been well enough, despite the question bringing up a mild discomfort. There is a new Shadow Lord, a new moon. A high one named Culls-the-Herd. His black ears tilt back in his displeasure.

Walks-Middle perks her ears forward at the mention of a new Shadow Lord, then lays them back as she learns the name. That is not a pleasant deed name, she notes. What does Far-Cry mean by 'a high one'?

Even higher than our Sept Alpha and Warder's ranks, the Shadow Lord answers. Her name is as pleasant as her character, he adds on with a snort.

Walks-Middle goes still at that answer, head tilting as she thinks. She will become your Elder then? Is she a Sept member?

Dagger's-Edge looks down at his paws. Yes, she wants to be alpha of the Shadow Lords. But no, she is not one of the Hidden Walk yet. The philodox's nose arcs back up, his eyes determined. I will not let her get in my way.

Walks-Middle chuffs an agreement, encouragement. The Child falls silent then, looking out into the rain, scanning the area. It is a moment before she looks back and asks, She will submit to Cries-No-More-rhya?

Dagger's-Edge tilts his head. I don't know. But if she is so bent on correcting those who do not always follow the Garou ways and submit to those higher in station, then I don't think she will. But she must have proven herself somewhere, even for a newmoon. And like it or not, she is not yet of the Hidden Walk, and so has little say in our matters.

Walks-Middle huffs. She is not of the Hidden Walk, so she won't worry too much yet. I'd like to meet her if she stays, never known anyone that high in rank.

Though it is hard to portray sarcasm in the wolf, the Shadow Lord snorts in just such a way. The air is as thin up where their heads are as it is thick where ours are. Standing up and shaking out his fur again for a second, he looks back to the ahroun. Now that you are Guardian, which part of the Bawn do you keep for your watch?

Walks-Middle lolls out her tongue at the sarcasm, then becomes more serious. She has not been told otherwise, so will keep watching over the Western part of the bawn. She is also bringing her cub here, to keep watch over him and train him. The Ahroun bares her teeth. My tribe has been neglectful.

Dagger's-Edge gazes towards the ahroun, teeth baring causing a rise and fall of his neckfur. Neglect is what makes a cub learn about their ambitions, he rumbles. But that newmoon cub is going to make you do more than bare your teeth at him, I am sure of it.

Walks-Middle seems amused. No doubt. I've already caught his scent leaving the bawn. Why do you say so? Have you met Follows-the-Wrong-Path?

Yes. Dagger's-Edge growls slightly, his own lips starting on a path to peel back, but the halfmoon refrains from anything further than just the tips. He is lucky to be a Child of Gaia.

Walks-Middle is silent for a moment, her tail flicking back and forth thoughfully. Pierces Ice was not approving of him either. This one does not know enough about him, but has only met him once.

Dagger's-Edge slowly lowers himself back down onto the ground. I wonder who gave him the permission to go to the Bawn. And Pierces Ice... is now a second rank, is she not?

Walks-Middle growls. He was not given permission! He wandered on by himself. Pierces Ice-rhya found him, sent him back. Her mood brightens. Yes! She has succeeded in her challenge.

Dagger's-Edge flicks an ear between the shifting moods. That is good, he observes carefully, though he appears cautious about his compliments on the Wendigo. Now at least the Guardians have some more power. What was Bison like?

Walks-Middle finds a spot to sit before answering. Bison is... huge. She never expected him to be as large as he was, made her feel small, even while in the war form. He is patient, thoughtful. He asks hard questions, and he knows much.

Dagger's-Edge turns an ear as a crow caws off along the side. What kind of questions? The interest of the Shadow Lord pokes through as he pokes his nose along the battlescar on his shoulder.

Walks-Middle lowers her gaze to the battlescar as the Lord noses it. Glacier-rhya asked me what balance is, about how to fight for the old ways while accepting what is good in the new, about how I will bring the old ways to my tribe, and... he asked about my dedication to the Sacred Heart. He said he has seen me faulter before. When I gave him my pledge, he accepted me.

Dagger's-Edge swings his gaze back around, ears pushing forward. And you will be satisfied to be a Guardian? There will be no more going to the Scab for you, you know. All you will have are these woods. And you will... /probably/ be a better hunter than I am.

Walks-Middle meets the Shadow Lord's gaze. I have considered this thoroughly, Far-Cry. I have not been to the city for a long time now, and I do not really miss it. Her mouth parts in a wolfish grin. More than probably, I /am/. Meet me here soon and I shall show you. Whenever you're ready.

Dagger's-Edge pushes up to his paws, giving the other wolf a challenging eye. We will see. His returned grin is a fierce one, eager for the contest. Soon. For now, we both have our things to do. When he turns, it is with one last look over his shoulder and chuffs a goodbye note to the ahroun.