3/16/2006

06:51 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Forest North of I-90(#2354RA)
The forest is thinner here than it is south of the highway, though it is still difficult to see for far. Signs of human habitation break the stretch of woods every few miles; roads, paths, farms, and the occasional out-of-the-way home remind you that civilization is encroaching, though in this area, the battle is not yet decided. Hardwoods mix with towering firs and smaller trees, still concealing some of nature's hidden places from the nearby humans.
The forest spreads north from Interstate 90, which delineates the souther edge of this area. Marked by logging areas, farms, and other signs of human presence in places, the woods are still relatively unoccupied by humans.
Contents:
Dillen
Obvious exits:
23 Hawk's End  Southeast  Interstate 90  Grotto  South  

Blinded by his rage and pain, the Shadow Lord flees northward through the forest, away from the bawn, away from the shadows in the night. He's harder to see by sheer virtue of his black fur, but the crashing of large footpaws thudding against soft earth and a hulking crinos body through the undergrowth leaves the most obvious of trails. The only thing that hinders is the darkness of the night to which he blends into.

Bloods-Bane had started at a bolt of a pace. He continues to follow as best he can, sticking his nose to the ground from time to time to keep the scent and tracking by ear some as well. The dark fur is indeed a deterrence but he keep going.

Almost. The philodox is just running, and his legs and lungs burn with each step. The chase leads a good distance away, and the time seems to pass slowly despite the fast sprints of both. In the end, though, the Get can spot the moving black furred form of the halfmoon as he stumbles over a root, bumping hard against a tree, spinning off balance for just a second before regaining it again. It's dangerous territory out here, as the forest is significantly thinner, and to the keen lupus ears there is the sound of the highway further out. People live out here. Perhaps that is where he's going, the Shadow Lord, desperate to return to that calm, controlled world. But the tree, the trees are all in his way. The trees form seemingly into mocking faces, and in his delusion he strikes out at them. Claws bite deep into the bark, scratching off hefty hunks.

Bloods-Bane follows still, trying to make sure he is staying safe. The road looms in the distance and Bane knows this. The striking at the trees causes some strange looks from the Galliard, still he keeps chase.

Dagger's-Edge eventually comes to a halt as the frenzy dies down, luckily stopping several paces away from a nearby farm field. Panting in quick, short breaths, he shakes out his fur like he were trying to dislodge things clinging to his coat. After a few more moments, his ears turn towards the noise of the pursuing Get galliard and he snarls back in the general direction.

Bloods-Bane draws up and slows as he approaches. This one was worried. He states, holding his head and tail at neutral angle. THe Get pads his way to Kenneth, slow and careful as the philodox is likely to really not like Dillen being there. Would you wish this one left?

Dagger's-Edge stares at the Get for a long while, and in this stare is the evidence of the storm of emotions that has caught him up and tossed him around. But, he doesn't answer with any preference. Instead, a rather pathetic whine curls out of the halfmoon's throat and he slumps down against a tree. Everything about his posture reads of deep, bone-weary, spirit-weary fatigue.

Bloods-Bane just gives a nod of his head and slides down to the ground. He doesn't say anything else at this time, just watches Kenneth out of the corner of his eyes. He mostly waits for Edge to speak, waiting for the shock of the moment to wear down and for maybe more truth to rise to the surface.

The minutes tick on, and the silence between them stretches onward. It is filled in with little movements here and there- an ear twitches reflexively with the hoot of an owl, and his clawed hand scratches against the dirt, against his chestfur. After that, the Shadow Lord closes his eyes and shrinks down slowly. Very slowly, he returns to his birthform. The blow to the head is gone, bruise and all, with just the spot of blood left to dry in his hair. "I've... said some real stupid shit," he utters out hoarsely.

Bloods-Bane then shifts into homid as well, legs crossed beneath him. Dillen just quietly nods his head. "I guess." He then ends it with a shrug. He picks at something on the ground. "If you say some stupid shit and it isn't true, apologize for it. May not take back the pain, but it is a good start." He looks up to Kenneth. "She's a good friend to you Kenneth. Best one you have had."

Shadowed as his face is, Kenneth could still be imagined to be gritting his teeth. His eyes drop down, looking upon his chest. "Why'd you even come? Why'd you bring me out here?"

"Because I can tell that something is bugging you real bad. Something that you aren't gonna talk about without a little persuasion. I know you trust Stacey and told her about the dreams. So I brought you to her." Dillen pauses, picking at something on the ground again, "I followed you because I give a shit and when you howled... I was worried about you, man. You are my pack. Gotta look after your pack. They are family."

Kenneth jerks his head up a moment, about to snap back, but falls drastically short. "I hurt her bad, didn't I... 's all I can do." He draws in a long, seemingly painful breath tight in his throat. "In the dream, there were three roads. I picked the middle one. Walked along it, and then she was there. Stacey, lookin' all happy in the middle of a large field of flowers. Sunflowers. She started runnin' off, and I followed... She kept calling my name. Far-Cry. She calls me that, y'know?" The halfmoon's tone sounds like his mouth has gone dry. "We got to a little campfire. And she was there, warning me. 'Watch out!' and.. 'Let go!' And then, there were bats. Couldn't count how many. So many that I got lost trying to kill 'em all. Kept fallin' and fallin'..." He fades off from there, exhaling quietly.

Dillen takes all the words in, soaking them up. He waits a long time before speaking, letting the words sink in and his thoughts gather around the dream. "Far-Cry. Kinda like it. But you know... It could all just be that you try and push everyone away so much that you feel lost. Feel like you don't belong anywhere. Falling down in a barrage of thoughts and questions." He looks to Kenneth. "What do you think of the dream? Do you have it a lot?"

"She calls me that, 'cause she thinks I'm a.. a 'far cry' from what a Shadow Lord ought t'be." Kenneth coughs a wry, dry laugh in between the explanation. "Maybe I am. Maybe... I don't want to be what Jarred and Lucas were. Who would?" He looks back at the galliard, black eyes hard for a second, angry, bitter. Then he turns back to the darkness of the forest. "But I still..." He doesn't manage to finish. "No. That dream was the only one. Everything else, it all goes up in flames. People just don't get it."

Dillen tilts his head to the side and looks at Kenneth, "No. Tell me. You still... What?"

"I'm still like them!" Kenneth barks back vehemently, fists clenching. "You're right. I don't care about anyone, 'cause I'll end up like them. The Shadow Lords don't give a shit about anyone... they just get the job done, no matter the cost. Respect is won by fear, not trust."

Dillen turns to look right at Kenneth, not a challenge look but one of trying to speak seriously to the Lord. "Kenneth. I don't fear you. I trust you. I know that with what you have been through, trust is hard to come by, but I have you at my side in any battle. I trust you to look after me in those battles, look after Kevin too. I trust you to look after Stacey. Dude. You have so much around you. People who would die for you. I would, Stacey would, Kevin would." Dillen gives a long moment of thought, looking down at the ground before he looks back to Kenneth. "Two things. Have you ever thought of going through the rite that lets you leave the past? Lets you move on as another? Like Grey did. I'm not saying it's a good thing, I'd hate to see it come to that, but if it could help you..." Dillen's voice drifts off. "Also, I was wondering about maybe leaving the Lords for you. It seems to be so much pain for you... Shit. It's just me trying to find ways to give you some peace, some strength in your past. A way to get people to see you like Stacey and I do... I dunno. Grasping at straws here."

Kenneth goes still for a long, tense moment. "No," he utters finally, shaking his head. "No. What good would it do? It wouldn't change anything. I'd end up like... Grey. And Grey, look at him. After all those rites, he /still/ is just a cliath, and he's still fucked up. No. I can't live like that."

Dillen takes a somewhat breath of relief. "Good." He continues with a scrub of his hair with his hand. "Because I don't want to see that happen to you." Dillen regards the Lord for a time, "Brom used to tell me that I was a rotten Get. That I was a pussy. It made me doubt myself. I began to believe him and for a time I became a real jerk. But see, that wasn't really me. I am what I am. I am a father, the alpha of a pack, and a pretty damn good warrior." He pauses for a moment. "How do you see yourself, Kenneth?"

"What am I, if I can't even be a philodox and stick to these... ways?" Kenneth breathes out roughly, half-between a growl and just flat tones. "But, look at what the fuck I did, Dillen. My Rite of Passage was to cut deals with bloodsuckers. I broke the laws of the Litany without batting an eyelash and killed my own tribal elder." He lifts a hand, appealing to some higher heavenly power, and then drops it limply. "I'm a Shadow Lord that hates his tribe. I'm a philodox that isn't honorable at all. I'm a fucking teenage werewolf who's so goddamn emo, I end up dragging everyone else down into this shithole with me, and then I blame 'em for the stink." His lip curls, teeth showing.

"Then you pick yourself up and dust yourself off..." Dillen does so, dusting off his pants and looking to the sky, "You look to the sky, see the stars and know what you have to do for Gaia. Nothing else matters. We are losing this battle and letting the world win against us is a bad thing. Now. We can get up and move on to prove ourselves to the others. Show them that we are warriors and not cowards. They they will sing the songs of our glory!"

"Goddamnit, Dillen!" Kenneth stands as well, though it's more of a shove to his feet. "Don't you get it? This isn't about /Glory/. I don't /care/ about glory. I'm a halfmoon, not an ahroun. I've tried it their way, and I've tried it my way. Nothing works. What good is fighting for a piece of dirt when everyone looks at you like you're lower than it?"

"I have never looked at you in that way." Dillen says simply. "I just wish you could see yourself like we do."

"And how is that, exactly?" Kenneth growls out between clenched teeth. "You and Stacey, you both got shit goin' for you. Where do I stand, in your eyes?"

"Confused. Unsure of himself." Dillen says in all honesty. "When we fought for the pack, you rocked. When we fought the tentacle beast, even when it had you near it's maw, you fought. I see a determination in you, like no other."

Kenneth sucks in his next breath, like the words actually sting. He starts to growl out, but then turns away and lays a hand on the scratched tree. His hand runs over the damaged, scored bark.

"Control that anger, save it for the wyrm and you will show the others, with no qualms, that you are great." Dillen regards Kenneth for a beat, "Just like I already know."

Thunk. The Shadow Lord's head 'taps' the tree none too lightly as his breath scratches in and out of his throat. His left hand reaches up to grasp the twin rings hanging around his neck tightly. "The Kenneth you know, you don't want."

"Tell me why?" Dillen leans in towards his pack mate.

"Because," Kenneth starts to say, and then he straightens up. The hand clutching the rings tightens, drawn close towards his neck. Then he turns around. "Because, he's dead." His black eyes stare into the galliard's, and in a sudden, forward jerk of his hand downward, the audible 'Snap!' of metal coming loose breaks the night. The ballchain around his neck hangs limply in his fist. Then, he uncurls his hand holding the rings, looking down at the two gold circles set with emeralds glittering brightly. He tilts his hand, and lets them fall onto the ground. With the quiet clink, the Shadow Lord turns and starts walking off into the forest again.

Dillen stands there for a long time. He looks between the rings and the leaving Shadow Lord. Slowly, he steps over to the rings and picks them up. He cradles them in his hand for a long moment before he pushes them into his pocket. He looks back towards Kenneth, walking away, "I hope for the better..." His words drift off and into the wind.