Black Sheep of the Family
7/15/2007
01:16 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New Moon phase (4% full).
It is currently 13:12 Pacific Time on Sun Jul 15 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the west at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.03 and steady, and the relative humidity is 68 percent. The dewpoint is 59 degrees Fahrenheit (15 degrees Celsius.)
Thunder Cave(#1410RA)
Once you enter this cave, you see it is much larger than you originally thought. From the small opening it widens and takes a sharp turn, providing a natural windbreak. Looking around, you see a spacious chamber, long ago carved from the limestone by running water. Quartz veins scintillate in the light. In the center of the room, a small fire burns, more for light than heat, as the room is quite well insulated. Looking up, you see the smoke drawn through small cracks and holes that allow for more than adequate ventilation. This cave used to be the home of Distant Thunder, a Shadow Lord Galliard, and some say that his spirit still lingers here, protecting this spot.
You can leave the cave by crawling out the cave entrance to the south that leads down to the clearing below. A passageway leads deeper into the cave. No one is sure how deep it goes.
Contents:
Moon Otter(#2552PJc)
Culls-The-Herd
Obvious exits:
Clearing
Far-Cry rests just inside the mouth of Thunder Cave, stretched out with his head on his paws and nose towards the outside. The philodox sleeps lightly, ears twitching away the insects that buzz about. His scent is quite detectable, along with the remains of a recent rabbit kill cached nearby.
Moon Otter leads Vera through the wilderness, taking care to use the easier paths already made by animals instead of blazing any shortcuts, making it easier to find in the future as well. He lingers at the clearing's edge, just inside the woods, to scent the air. He looks to Vera. ~Far-Cry is here. He was not earlier today when I brought Spits-Out-Nails to this place. Would you like to announce our arrival?~
Culls-The-Herd's large hispo head swings from one side to another as she scents the wind, fur standing on end along the length of her spine. She takes a few steps forward and throws her muzzle toward the sky. ~Far-Cry! Your Alpha and Elder are here!~
Far-Cry wakes up with a start, ears standing straight up at the call. The philodox listens for a little longer before he emerges from the cave itself, sniffing the air and looking about warily for the caller. His hackles lift from the tension running down his back. But the halfmoon answers, Here I am.
Moon Otter keeps abreast of Culls-the-Herd, silently backing up both her moves and words, however she decides to let things unfold.
Culls-The-Herd takes several stiff-legged steps toward the half-moon, irritation clear in her posturing. ~Greeting Far-Cry. I have come to see Thunder Cave, that has belonged to all of Thunder's Children since this Sept was reclaimed.~
Far-Cry takes a couple of steps back with the adren's approach, ears tilting back against his head. This place was forgotten. I claimed it as mine. I cared for it. It belongs to me. Much like a wolf hovering over his part of a kill, the halfmoon bares his teeth at the dominant wolves in fear and warning, not wanting her to come closer.
Moon Otter moves in lock step with the sept Alpha, stance also dominant. You are Shadow Lord. You have every right to reside here and protect it. But this is the tribe's territory, not yours.
Culls-The-Herd's hackles along her shoulder blades stand at full attention, as she lunges in the Philodox's direction, teeth snapping in warning and froth forming around her muzzle.
Far-Cry yelps and dodges back further into the cave to avoid the snapping hispo jaws, eventually taking the hint. He backs away to one side, ears firmly pinned back and tail curled between his legs in submission. A thin whine comes from him. Fine, go in.
Moon Otter allows Culls-the-Herd to take point in getting the Far-Cry to submit to her. He hangs back just barely behind and off to the side in the event he's needed--however unlikely that prospect might be. It's a distinctly supportive position to the Alpha's initiative, yet without the snarling fury. His stance relaxes as the cliath wisely submits--unusual tension considering how the Fostern and Adren could clearly overpower Far-Cry. Perhaps having something to do with the scent of pregnancy in the air.
Culls-The-Herd puffs up even further, hovering over Far-Cry for a tense moment before accepting his surrender and making her way into the cave. Once inside, she busily starts inspecting the structure, nose to the ground and ears alert.
Far-Cry continues to remain in submissive position, even after Culls-the-Herd makes her way in. The philodox licks the front of his muzzle, posture reading tense and uneasy, like a shady bank manager suddenly having surprise inspections from the Department of Finance. The peculiar scent of pregnancy in the air gets a sniff, but the halfmoon remains quiet and watching.
Moon Otter now leaves the sept Alpha and ranking Shadow Lord to continue her inspection of the cave, interposing himself between her and Far-Cry. Who he's protecting--if anyone--remains to be seen. He speaks with a gentle forcefulness, and loud enough that Vera will certainly overhear. This one understands that you have become estranged from the tribe here. We should speak on this, and see if it can be rectified. This one was also once in a similar position, raised by Red Talons and confused of purpose. But sometimes, purposes that seem different may actually be the same--as a stream that is narrow and shallow at one point is wide and deep at another, but still the same stream. It is good that you have at least protected this tribal ground from destruction or habitation by another tribe. The tribe owes you a debt for that. It would be true disgrace if Thunder Cave had fallen into the hands of another tribe.
Culls-The-Herd continues with her inspection of the cave, going over every inch of it.
Far-Cry ducks his head again when Moon Otter blocks his view of the adren. But, Moon Otter's words almost confuse him. There is slow agreement from the philodox. Yes. This cave was where Song-of-Fury brought me when I was found. It is important to keep it safe. Its secret, inside. This one also guards the wolves nearby.
Moon Otter continues confusing Far-Cry as he adds further to his claims and statements. You have done well, even. The cave is almost exactly as this one remembers it, and none of its deeper secrets seem to have been harmed or defaced. This one understands that Song-of-Fury proved to be a corrupt, incompetent elder. Had this one known what would happen after leaving to raise pups, this one's last act as tribal elder here would have been to cull Song-of-Fury, rather than grant him undeserved mercy. He has likely poisoned you and your opinions and beliefs regarding the Lords of Shadow. This must be corrected, so that you may rejoin your tribe properly and understand our greater purpose.
Culls-The-Herd stops in one particular spot, something on the ground having captured her attention.
Far-Cry again rumbles in low agreement with Moon Otter, visibly looking displeased on the very mention of Song-of-Fury. We culled him. Thunder's-Forge and I... But Thunder's-Forge died too. And I was driven away for a moon's time. The philodox flicks an ear as he regards the tribal alpha, the other ear training on Culls-the-Herd. The Lords of Shadow are... still my tribe, concedes the young halfmoon.
Moon Otter seems to have relaxed, and now settles back onto his haunches before the estranged Shadow Lord. Yes, you can be brought back into the fold and peace made among the tribe. This one can sense it. And you have enough respect in the eyes of the sept to serve as Truthcatcher during a moot--not an honor often bestowed upon a half-moon of the Lords of Shadow at such a.... diverse and untraditional sept such as this one. But it indicates that there is hope for this place yet.
Culls-The-Herd's hackles abruptly lift, as she growls low in the back of her throat and her nose remains pressed against the ground.
Far-Cry looks up at Culls-the-Herd when she growls, distracted from Moon Otter for a moment before he turns his attention back at the fostern. There are few others to serve as Truthcatcher, who know how to separate truth and lie. This one was sure Spits-Out-Nails would have been asked, instead of him. Far-Cry casts his gaze down to the floor.
Moon Otter exhales briskly. Spits-Out-Nails was not yet a sept member and would have been an imprudent choice. But regardless, of the handful of half moons capable of seperating truths from lies, you were chosen as Truthcatcher. And you have kept the cave from being claimed by another tribe--which would have resulted in dishonor to the Lords of Shadow and likely have led into an inter-tribal brawl instead of what we are doing right here, right now. And you have watched over the nearby wolves. Do you intend to take a mate from their numbers?
Culls-The-Herd grumbles, deep down in the back of her throat. More to herself, then the other Lords. Her nose leaves the ground with a snort and she begins to pace, clearly working on keeping her Rage in check.
But he will be, remarks Far-Cry with a failed attempt to keep from sounding bitter about it. Lupus form, not good for being mysterious about moods. Moon Otter's query brings the halfmoon's head up with a jerk of surprise, and he lets out a hard huff full of frustration and anger. No, he answers tersely. I cannot take a mate with them. Or anyone.
Utterly clashing with the regal wolf's appearance and breeding, Moon Otter descends abruptly and frankly into the derogatory--all the more striking through the use of lupus slurs. You are not one of those monkey-born testicle lickers that hates the bitches, are you?
Culls-The-Herd lifts up her head and looks at the pair, then lays down on the cool stone floor.
Far-Cry, already on the edge of surprise, falls easily to a very clear and heavy growl at the tribal alpha's slur. Not because he is, but because there is obvious repression and deep, underlying anger towards the subject. Call it sexual frustration, even. NO, he snarls as he gets up. I /cannot/ mate. I am /scarred/. Song-of-Fury saw to it, sending me on a Rite of Passage that made me so! If there is no other regret I have, it is not doing the same to him before I killed him, that... that testicle licker!
Moon Otter looks initially taken aback--and almost moves to lower his head and check Kenneth's undercarriage--but checks himself before actually doing so. As the latter revelation comes out, Otter's own anger bubbles to the surface, but he surpresses it and doesn't feed it. Instead, he offers words. The Lords of Shadow are taught and trained to be exceptional garou. And we are exceptional garou. Unfortunately, when one of our numbers falls out of favor with Gaia, he tends to fall out exceptionally well. And that is why we need skilled philodoxes, such as you, in the tribe. Had you been cliath at the time, you could have brought Song-of-Fury to justice--or had him quietly culled so those outside the tribe would have never known this disgrace. This one.... This one is truly sorry for what you have gone through. What you are still going through. Come. Rejoin the tribe. Be one of us and help to ensure these injustices do not befall others--be they Lords of Shadow or garou of the other tribes.
Culls-The-Herd rises up from the floor and pads over to her Tribesmates, settling down on her haunches next to Moon Otter.
Far-Cry's show of wrath peters out, the remnants of it echoing through his posture. The halfmoon is only half listening to Otter, fuming in his own stormclouds, before Culls-the-Herd's return to them makes the philodox assume a forced veneer of calm. He wanted us to ally with bloodsuckers. Ally with them, or fail our rite and be culled. There was no choice. The halfmoon shakes himself thoroughly, looking back to the pair of higher ranked Lords. What... would /you/ have me do?
Moon Otter glances briefly to Culls-the-Herd, then back to the potentially-no-longer-tribal-omega'd half-moon. Only a moment of hesitation before he states: We are forming a tribal pack under Grandfather Thunder to bring some semblence of dignity back to the sept, to show the disrespectful urrah how true garou conduct themselves, and to teach the sept what it means to have strength and to use it properly for the good of Gaia. We may claim some territory in the nearby scab, cutting at the Wyrm there--including ANY of the dead-that-move if they are found. Thunder Cave will likely be part of the territory we will claim and protect. None are more familiar with the nearby lands than you. Moon Otter leaves the unspoken question.... very unspoken, but undeniably there just before you.
Far-Cry blinks and stares at the tribal alpha, ears splaying. Biting off a reflex answer, the philodox brings his head low and he slowly sits, mulling the silent question over. He then looks back to the alpha, then over to Culls-the-Herd. There's remains a wariness towards her, and it stalls the halfmoon.
Culls-The-Herd's broad lupine face remains impassive, as she looks down at the other Shadow Lord. An ear flicks towards Moon Otter and she doesn't respond right away. Would you join? She finally asks, impassive and all but radiating strength and good breeding.
Far-Cry doesn't remain seated for long, as the uneasiness returns in the presence of the two impressive Lords. You. You come to feed me, fatten my head with praise. You would bring me close, as a snake woos a bird away from the nest. And then strike. My elders, you, have done nothing but shun me until now. His head lifts again, digging for his pride, stubbornness, and lack of trust. Why should I join you, just to know what it is like to be squashed further under your paws?
Long distance to the room: Far-Cry uses Aura of Confidence. And tries.
Culls-The-Herd's ears press back as his lips pull back in a snarl, before she re-assumes an air of calm indifference. ~When I came here looking for allies in my own Tribe, you threatened to kill me if I meddled in your affairs. You spurn your own Tribe and wear your hate for Thunder's children like a cloak. So, I have shunned you. You do not tell me of this place, a Home for all of Thunder's Children, claim it and try to defend it from your own. You do not tell me of it, yet you bring the Elder of the Children of Gaia here. You would show her one of Thunder's secrets, but not your own Tribe's. Should I show love and caring to one who so openly hates his entire Tribe? You were poisoned by another, poisoned against all the Shadow Lords. We are giving you a chance Far-Cry, one for redemption. To become what a Shadow Lord is /meant/ to be. Will you not give us some trust in return? We are offering you a pack to call your own.~
Moon Otter seemingly echoes Culls-the-Herd's words, but with additional insight and apparently with less offense taken. Still, whenever he talks of Jarred, clear distaste is evident in his posture. This one has met Song-of-Fury. Dealt with him when he first arrived at the sept. And wavered in culling him at one point. His words were a slow poison. A long-lasting poison. And it is a poison that is still in your veins. If we had plans to crush you, you would already have been crushed and we would not be speaking right now. We are not the serpent-tongued one from the past. We are the future of the tribe and the sept. The poison within you will always be within you, unless you rejoin your tribe and it is purged from your spirit. Moon Otter pauses and then adds: Come. Join us. Together we will change this sept for the better.
From afar, to the room, Moon Otter sees your Aura of Confidence and raises you some Persuasion.
You paged the room with 'Dang it!'.
It was Walks-the-Middle-Road who stood by me when no others would, retorts Far-Cry defensively, his shoulders hunching even as he fights off the feeling of defeat. I showed only her because I trusted no other who came. I could not trust Stands-in-the-Rain, or Brings-the-Bitter-Harvest with the secret. Only Walks-the-Middle-road. That is why I agreed... I agreed to help her on her Fostern challenge. She forms a pack too, alphas, to answer The Warder's terms. The philodox glances between the pair, finding his back to a wall.
This time it's the current tribal elder that speaks up first. Otter asks, Is this a mission pack for the challenge, or a permanent pack? This one has no issues with you temporarily packing with someone who has helped you through difficult times. The Children are exceptional healers of spirit, but it is clear that the poison within you can only be cured by the Lords of Shadow. Also, this one has an idea.... Perhaps a means to allow you a chance to have pups. Perhaps.
From afar, to the room, Moon Otter fails to take his finger off the Persuasion button.
Culls-The-Herd actually manages to look hurt, when Far-Cry talks about not being able to trust anyone aside from the Gaian. Body language all but saying, not even me? This expression passes and the Adren looks over at Moon Otter, head tilted to one side in a silent question.
Long distance to the room: Far-Cry tries not to add 'Especially you' back at Vera. XD
Far-Cry looks confused at Culls-the-Herd, and still ever wary. The tribal elder gets the next look, where the philodox answers, It is... a pack. The philodox doesn't seem to make a distinction. But what Moon Otter says next completely throws him, and he just stares at the tribal elder. But, Battlescars. They are marks of Glory. To get rid of them... The halfmoon drops off there, obviously not uninclined to be rid of the one he refers to.
Moon Otter looks somewhat hesitant to continue, but then does so after a few very long heartbeats of time. No, not to heal the scar. To.... Well, it would be something that we would all wish to keep quiet and would require a theurge from within the tribe willing to keep a secret. It is.... more of a ragabash type solution that would require a theurge and a spirit. We have a theurge cub now who shows great promise. But this would not be a thing you would want to advertise to the sept. Moon Otter then further asserts the following: even if you do not wish to join the pack, the offer to assist will stand. Cubs are the future of our tribe. We won't turn our backs to one of our own, or our own tribe in the process. And we still wish to bring you back into the fold.
From afar, to the room, Moon Otter just tapes the Persuasion button down. "Did I say cookies? I meant fudge dipped cookies. And Smores."
Culls-The-Herd is openly curious as to what idea Moon Otter has come up with, but turns away from him and faces the Philodox, waiting for his reply.
Canting his head at the tribal alpha, Far-Cry looks almost disappointed with the mention of not healing the scar. The halfmoon scrapes a paw on the ground, indecisive up until the next assertion. Surprised, even, that he's given such an offer. You are generous, Moon Otter-alpha. I. I would like to see more about the Lords of Shadow, as they should be, before I decide.
Moon Otter huffs his agreement with the half-moon's decision, still magnanimous even if he (apparently) might not have gotten everything he may have wanted. This is wise, and will help you to recover from the lingering poison still within you. Go and aid the Child that helped you initially, as she seems likely deserving of rank despite her youth. If it is a mission pack and not a true pack with a totem, know that Grandfather Thunder calls to you. And to us. This one invites you to come visit the two cubs this one has been training. They dwell either near the farmhouse or close by on the bawn, and you saw them briefly at moot. You will likely remember them, too. They were the ones not throwing food and being disrespectful of the moot, caern, spirits, and traditions. Come and talk with the Shadow Lord cubs, who will soon be Cliath, and in particular the half-moon Demands-Answers. This one thinks you will be suitably impressed with what the Lords of Shadow truely are, and not what we can be at our utmost worst--like you experienced in the past.
Culls-The-Herd wags her tail at Far-Cry, jaw dropping in a lupine grin.
Far-Cry dips his head down in thanks, taking a moment to smooth his hackles back down. I have waited for the storm. And now that is here, I find it not so hard to weather. He stands again, licking his jaws. I have met Demands-Answers in the forest to the west. The cubs... will you move them here to the cave?
Moon Otter glances towards the mouth of the cave, so long since used by the Shadow Lords for various purposes--including raising newly changed cubs. No, not for now at least. They have been indoctrinated to the tribe's beliefs and are now testing them against what others from other tribes claim--and comparing what they claim to what they actually do. But you are free to come visit with them and us. This one is sticking close by them for the time being, in case there is need and to allow for more time for lessons. But rest assured that this meeting tonight would have gone in a very different direction had Song-of-Fury's words and teachings poisoned you to the point you could not be saved. This one will no longer have mercy for those Shadow Lords such as that one was.
Culls-The-Herd's lips pull back from her teeth. ~From the stories I heard, the one you speak of did nothing but bring shame to Thunder's Children. You did the right thing, by killing him.~
Far-Cry picks at a section of earth on the cave, expression one of brief thought. Then I will go see them soon, states the halfmoon after another beat. The tribal elder's sentiments reserved for Song-of-Fury don't go unnoticed either. Far-Cry licks at the side of his muzzle again in a pass of faint concern, and relief. Then he looks back at Culls-the-Herd, ears tilting back in submission, silent apologies, and withheld curiosity all in one. It's obvious the philodox now has noticed the peculiar scent about the adren. But still the halfmoon doesn't comment on it, and he affirms, Song-of-Fury had a den in the Scab. It was there Thunder's-Forge and I were kept. And Thunder's-Forge's rage was so great, it consumed him often, bred the Wyrm in him with the Thrall. Song-of-Fury said to keep him there, and not tell the others because the Lords of Shadow would handle the problem. But we were discovered when we thought Thunder's-Forge escaped and was found eating the two-leggeds again, and Wyrmtainted.
Moon Otter looks as if a knife is twisting in his back as the summary of the sordid deeds is revealed to him. And the anguish is then revealed. This one apologizes for having left the tribe to tend to mate, pack, and pups. If there was a way to have done that and still be tribal elder here, this one would have done it. Cutter clearly was incapable of holding the tribe together on his own, and this one should have known better than to place one of cursed birth in charge--but there were no other fostern and Song-of-Fury was the only alternative at the time. This one thought the tribe here did not need him. This one was wrong. The undiscovered cubs to be.... Moon Otter sighs, clearly frustrated at his inability to be in two places at once.
Culls-The-Herd turns her head to look at the Fostern, ears splaying. ~What is done is done. All we can do now is deal with the legacy that Song-Of-Fury has left the Shadow Lords. So many here despise us, because his memory hangs over this Sept like a cloud.~
Far-Cry likewise carefully concedes that he was not being fair in distrusting his elders that came after Song-of-Fury. With this, he turns towards the mouth of the cave to make a small retreat, seemingly to leave the elders to their devices in the cave. At its mouth he pauses, chuffing a quick note. The cavern lies to the north. And then the philodox slips away, hastening to exit.
Moon Otter huffs a fairwell to the departing half-moon. This one remembers the way well. Luna light your path--or not--as needed.
Culls-The-Herd watches the Philodox leave and chuffs a polite farewell, then rises and shakes out her coat. Well done, she congratulates the other Ragabash. I would see this cavern, then rest. The pup draws on my strength and I find I am tiring more easily then I should.
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