Meeting Nike
4/25/2007
11:16 AM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (55% full).
It is currently 11:14 Pacific Time on Wed Apr 25 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 49 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the east at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.26 and rising, and the relative humidity is 77 percent. The dewpoint is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)
WWNP: Lake Arthur Annex(#2376RAh)
Smaller trees and more undergrowth cover this area by the lake, growing more lush as the land marches down to the shore. Twining vines and flowering bushes compete with new trees and spreading ivy. Spreading oaks stand side by side with beech and fir, with none of the trees looking more than a decade or two old. In many places, it gives the impression of forest reclaimed from the hand of man. The land here slopes both in gentle rolls and sudden dropoffs towards the lake. Small creeks gurgle through the lush undergrowth, and a variety of small animals can be founds here. The trees are alive with birdsong and branches bend under the weight of squirrels. The rich smells of life arise from the soft soil, carried by soft breezes from the lake.
Adjacent to the old section of Wolf Woods National Park, this area covers the approximately 50 square miles around Lake Arthur that comprise the park's latest land acquisition. County Line Road runs north out of the area, towards Kent Crossing.
Contents:
Nike
Obvious exits:
Lake Arthur Dirt Road East
[look Nike (Homid)]
Looking like she just stepped from the gym, Stratonike befits her Fury tribe. Her hair is short, not styled at all and growing out from what looks to be a bleach job. Her body is toned and slim and she's always ready for battle. She isn't on that people would call attractive and her demeanor doesn't lend any more to how people would see her. When she smiles her teeth tend to show off a slightly twisted canine tooth which gives her a bit of fang look to her smile. She's tall, around 5' 10", and her form follows her function as an Ahroun. She wears a long sleeve t-shirt in a deep olive color that hangs out over a pair of loose fitting, well worn jeans with threadbare holes in the knees. A warm v-neck sweater in black covers the shirt and helps with keeping her warm. A pair of beat and battered Doc Martens make sure her feet are protected.
Wandering the forest and the area can get someone quite into the woods themselves. Nike continues her trek through the area around the sept and land around, seeing where she is in the world now. Her carved and ornate wooden bow is next to her being used almost like a staff as she walks along.
The sounds of the Fury's footsteps reach the Shadow Lord long before she hears or sees him. Head lifting from the rabbit he's caught, Far-Cry sniffs at the air in Nike's direction. The prey carcass is scooped up and the halfmoon starts to trot away to a safer, uninhabited place. He isn't taking care with his footfalls, though. A few dry twigs snap, and a few leaves are rustled in response to the quiet calls of birds. Wolf Woods is quite the patch of wilderness.
Nike tilts her head at sounds she doesn't wish to hear. Her bow is threaded with a quickness from years of practice. From her pants leg, a single arrow is drawn and threaded onto the bow. She now takes care to hide her own steps as she moves through the woods, seeking the sounds of the footsteps that are too loud to be something small.
Far-Cry continues along his way, putting distance between himself and his supposed hunter. In a matter of moments, the distance of a hundred yards spans between the two and the philodox drops his rabbit again to resume his meal. It doesn't take an extremely experienced hunter, but it does take an observant type of human to note the presence of fresh tracks in the patches of dirt, not to mention the rabbit fur ripped up and discarded along where Far-Cry had been eating.
Nike finds the place, looking it over for a moment. She smiles slightly to herself as there is nothing better than the thrill of the hunt. She unnotches the bow from it's home, sliding it back into the slot built into her pants. After checking around for unwanted eyes, she shrinks down into her lupus form, the bow becoming a white stripe down one leg. She sniffs at the ground, then moving off after her quarry.
Far-Cry's scent remains in the immediate area where he had brought his prey. Though the Shadow Lord's smell is very natural, there is an inevitable 'taint' of man still very faintly clinging to his path, marking him or something around the area with human civilization. The philodox is on the bare bones of his meal when he checks again for the sound of the human he'd heard, and finds nothing. Again, his nose lifts towards the wind, sniffing fervently around the rabbit and blood. By the time Nike has come within visual range, he's already looking in her general direction and standing over the remains of his kill. Tail flat out behind him and posture defensive, Far-Cry utters a warning growl before the unfamiliar wolf gets too close.
Nike keeps her stance. Her eyes look into Far-Cry's, head held high. She gives a bit of body language to indicate she does not want the kill. She simply stands her ground that she has at the moment, keeping an eye on the other wolf.
[look Not-Dead-Yet (lupus)]
A sleek and large black wolf with shining yellow eyes. Thick claws comes from paws that pads the ground now. Still, on her upper right "forearm" is a bare patch where it seems that a branded design is in the fur.
Unfamiliar, but not unacknowledged, the Fury and her high headed stance get a smaller reaction from Far-Cry. His tail lowers as she indicates his kill is safe - what minor remains there are left over of it anyway. Still, the halfmoon remains on the defensive as he sinks back a couple of paces. His muzzle lifts to sniff at her from afar, but he stands still after that small but significant sign of retreat.
Not-Dead-Yet simply keeps her place. Her head stays high and she gives a look around before her body begins to shift and change into a human form. The bow sides from her forearm and into her hand as she does so. She rises up to her full height and keeps her eyes on the wolf. Still, not a word is said.
Far-Cry is seemingly forced to retreat a couple more steps as the wolf before him changes into a human. His reaction isn't that of a regular wolf's, but he makes no move to revert to breed form either. When Nike's fully shifted back, the Lord's eyes stray towards the ornate bow in her hand. Distanced curiosity rests in the yellow eyes that regard the weapon, and then travel back to the Fury. No fear is displayed, but still a slightly submissive slant of his back keeps him on the defensive. Again, not a word is spoken. But, the halfmoon does chuff a low greeting between strangers.
Nike gives a slight bow of her head to him. "I mean no harm. I simply walk the woods." She reaches to the pants leg to pull the arrow from it once more. Quietly she moves, notching it quickly and giving the bow a quick pull and the arrow flies somewhere off to the side of Far-Cry. It's a far enough shot that he would know she hadn't fired at him. She raises up and walks towards the area where the arrow fell.
It doesn't matter whether she meant him no harm, as Far-Cry reacts first with confusion and then darts off to a protective tree the moment that arrow comes to view and gets notched. Even as the missile sails through the air to find some unknown target, the Shadow Lord now eyes the Fury warily. His lips twitch with the want to peel back and reveal his fangs. It's after she's passed him to retrieve the arrow, that he's possessed with the thought to change back to his own breed form. The halfmoon rises at the side of the tree, his clothes melting out of his black fur. A white button shirt, simple black pants and matching shoes are all that he has dedicated to him now. "Even a simple walk in the woods doesn't require the random firing of harmful weapons," he speaks.
Nike comes back from the woods, the arrow impaled upon the carcass of a rabbit. "Only wished to provide more food." She looks to the now homid form of the man. "Was that you?" She asks, squinting a wary eye.
"Was what me?" Kenneth asks in return, dark eyes traveling to the carcass of the rabbit. His expression flickers between continued wariness and wonder before settling on a neutral regard. A dirty hand moves up to wipe some remnant of blood at the corner of his lip. He certainly doesn't appear to be any hiker.
"The wolf." Nike says, arrow straining under the weight of the rabbit. "Are you in need of more food or any of the other wolves?"
Kenneth shakes his head slowly. "I was the wolf. Kenneth. Also called Far-Cry, Cliath Philodox of the Shadow Lords. As for the wolves, you won't find them in this range today. They moved northeast after the deer." He eyes the rabbit again with an opportunist's eye. "But I'll take that if you don't want it."
Nike simply reaches down and pulls the rabbit from the arrow, wiping the arrow off as she resheathes it into her pants. "Olivia "Stratonike" Lynch. Nike to those who like to keep their head. Cliath Ahroun of the Black Fury. Deeded Not-Dead-Yet." She holds the rabbit out by the ears. "May Gaia keep you in good health." She offers it to Kenneth.
Kenneth watches the process of arrow cleaning and resheathing with more interest, snatching the rabbit away. Another moment passes before he remembers to utter his thanks. "Not-Dead-Yet?" Amusement upturns the corners of his lips. "That's a hopeful name. I don't suspect a ragabash will take it upon herself to carve 'Now-She-Is' on your tombstone."
Nike gives only a slight smile to this. "That I do not doubt. But for now, I am not dead yet. Some day I shall. I only hope it to be in battle." She gives a slight shrug to this. "The only way to do it."
Kenneth smirks and turns to look off into the trees, keeping aware of the woods about them. "I don't recall you. You're new around here, right?"
Nike nods her head, "Newest Fury there is. Just accepted to the sept and ready to kick some ass." She leans upon her bow, one hand moving across the carved wood.
Kenneth laughs with a sound that's between a cough and a scoff. Eyes tinged black by the dim light of the wood turn back upon the Fury. "And what brings you out here, Nike? Glory?"
Nike raises a brow and looks to Kenneth, "What brings me here is my feet. I find my way here and that things need to be done. What better reason for an Ahroun?"
"What better reason, right," Kenneth repeats with a hint of black sarcasm to it. "I guess the sept you left to come here must have had fullmoons pouring out their ears? And where's that at, anyway? Certainly not around this state, since all we've heard is that every caern near enough's gotten overrun by the Wyrm." And he takes no pleasure in stating that much - so little pleasure in fact, that his hand around the hanging rabbit's ears tightens.
"Sept of the Swans in Boston." Nike states. "Yes. I heard about troubles down here. I came this way. Not been too pleased with some of the garou that this sept has to offer, I am afraid." She grimaces a little, which hardly changes the state of her face.
Kenneth shrugs his shoulders, no rebuttal made. "I can't complain. I've never seen another sept outside of here. You came all this way to kick the Wyrm's ass on the West Coast. But what made you want to leave Boston?"
Nike adjusts her stance, pulling her bow close to her. "I have known nothing but battle my whole life. It was time to travel and find my own path, my own place in the garou. Make my own bed and lie in it." She shrugs and glances about the forest, "Besides, I heard the Fury were small here and I though I could make a difference. Maybe even just prove myself to myself."
A thin, wry smile curls at the Shadow Lord's face. "So out of curiosity," Kenneth asks after she explains, "how old're you?"
Nike looks slightly suspicious of the Lord. "I'm 20. Why?"
"Just asking," Kenneth replies with a placating hold up of his free hand. "But 20's a good age. Means that even ahrouns can live long enough to see a second decade." He pushes off from the tree beside him starting to walk. A pause in his steps and a look back to the Fury acts as a silent invitation to continue the conversation, or not. He makes no demands. "What did you do for your chiminage to the Hidden Walk?"
Nike follows with her bow as a staff. She speaks quietly as she walks, "Nobody had any for me, saying I had nothing to offer. Laura disappeared so I could not gain one from her. So, I simply patrolled the streets and looked for where I was needed. I broke up several robberies, muggings... Then I found a group of boys. Saw them often enough and realized when they went missing. I found one of them surrounded by the carcasses, much like your rabbit, eaten. Figured out it was the boy and his dog. They no longer live. I went to Vera-Rhya with this knowledge and she granted me chiminage." The foliage crunches under her feet, "Where is this place? What is it called?" She notes a marker of some sort along the way.
"Sounds grotesquely acceptable," Kenneth remarks with a nod to the chiminage story. There is, however, a small line of tension that creases further with thought. The Fury's question draws his attention back up to the surface though, and he replies, "This is Wolf Woods National Park. A part of it, anyway. The Hidden Walk's only real source for possible wolf born kin, but as far as I know they don't take advantage of it enough."
Nike nods her head and continues on with the Lord as they walk. "Anything you need?" She asks, a simple enough question with no emotion to it.
Kenneth turns his eyes to the Fury as they continue strolling. "I don't need anything the grounds can't provide. And so far, the wolves have been faring well. But the park's also big enough that it needs looking after by more than one set of eyes. I don't worry about it, though. Not long ago there was a strain of rabies going around, but I think we've managed to stem that off. You Furies might be able to have a look around at least. Keepers of the Wyld, you all claim to be and such."
Nike grunts some at the title. "I will see what can be done." She nods her head, "I should be heading back to the house. I am in need of a good run, nonetheless. It was good to meet you." She gives a quick nod of her head to Kenneth and without much more ceremony she splits off and walks towards the farmhouse.
"They've survived long enough. And we have kinfolk who watch the park from human side. Anyway, I'll see you later," Kenneth replies in return. He adds a quick lift of the rabbit carcass and calls after, "Thanks for lunch."
There are no more words or glances from the Fury as she is already off on her own and wrapped in her own thoughts.
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