Show Me Yours
7/22/2007
04:04 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (52% full).
It is currently 16:00 Pacific Time on Sun Jul 22 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 30.09 and steady, and the relative humidity is 81 percent. The dewpoint is 64 degrees Fahrenheit (17 degrees Celsius.)
Windswept Clearing(#3150RJ)
You stand in a small, muddy clearing, high in the foothills east of St. Claire. At first glance, the clearing appears cold and dead, but further examination shows a subtle beauty. The wet rocks that litter the ground have been eroded by wind and rain into intriguing shapes. One looks like a wolf sleeping, another like an old man staring down the mountain side. A small almost non-existent, fed by a pure spring, lies clear and still. The rock-face to the north is limestone, studded with veins of quartz that refract the light when struck just right, sending rainbows throughout the clearing. You have rarely seen a more peaceful or pleasant spot.
To the west you see a faint path leading down the mountain. Looking to the north, you see a small cave up the side of the rock-face.
Contents:
Moon Otter(#2552PJc)
Walks-Middle
Obvious exits:
Cave Foothills
By the rocks that have been molded and shaped in the many rains, Far-Cry rests, looking out towards Thunder Cave. It's a vantage point he uses, making it harder to sneak up on the philodox. The black wolf shifts himself restlessly though, feeling the moon and his own innate Rage even during the day.
Moon Otter approaches the clearing from the woods and downwind, stopping briefly while still concealed in the forest to take in any scents that betray who--or what--has been there recently. Soon satisfied, the Shadow Lord elder makes his way into the clearing proper and rumbles a greeting towards the wolf he knows is already present.
Just as the two wolves begin to greet, a howl sounds from nearby, just outside of the clearing's general vicinity. It simply states that Walks-the-Middle-Road is seeking Far-Cry, if he is near.
Far-Cry shuffles up to his feet when the Shadow Lord elder comes into his field of view before the wind has a chance to bring his scent and sound. The halfmoon tenses half in expectation of things worse than a greeting. But when nothing comes, he settles for watching the elder warily. Rather than returning a greeting, he notes that he's met the other cub Learns-Quickly. That's all he gets out before there is a howl for him, and the philodox turns his head in its direction. For a split second, he almost steps over Moon Otter's authority to howl back. But he doesn't, catching himself and glancing to the elder again. Far-Cry licks at his muzzle.
Moon Otter puts the non-Lord on hold, ignoring the howl as he climbs up to join Far-Cry on the outcropping. There's no nervousness or anxiety or wariness coming from Moon Otter. He says to Far-Cry, Good. it is too bad the tribe lacks a theurge to teach her properly, but you should spend some time with Demands-Answers as she is of your moon. Better for her to see and compare two half-moons from the tribe as opposed to just one. Moon Otter, now that he's finished conversing with Far-Cry, turns towards the woods and howls a terse response: Come.
There's a moment, almost a hesitation, before the Child Elder appears, walking across the clearing toward where the two Shadow Lords wait. While proud, her posture is definitely respectful as she draws near. Greetings, Moon Otter-rhya, Far-Cry.
Far-Cry admits to not having seen Demands-Answers since the time he last scented her out. It is far on the west side of the bawn, and I heard there are other cubs now. As Walks-Middle appears, he takes a few moments of pause with lots of sideways glancing towards the tribal alpha, before making his way down the rocky slope to meet the Child elder. And he stands between them, looking back and forth.
Moon Otter settles onto his haunches on the raised outcropping just outside the mouth of the cave, looking like the lupus equivalent of a king on his throne. Good evening, Walks-the-Middle-Road. While it is a pleasure to once again have the company of a guardian, this one regrets to inform you that this territory belongs to the Lords of Shadow. You are free to visit here and meet with Far-Cry, but there must be a member of the tribe present, and you--and none outside the tribe--are permitted within Thunder Cave.
Walks-Middle likewise looks between the two, especially as Far-Cry moves between them, but her attention settles on Moon Otter as he speaks. This one understands, and she will respect your territory. Thank you for allowing this one to visit.
Far-Cry looks a bit taken aback by the decree of the tribal alpha, glancing towards the cave before he looks back to Walks-Middle and her response. The more disturbed of the three must be the philodox, whose tail lashes behind him once before he looks back to Moon Otter. What do you mean, a member of the tribe present? I am a Shadow Lord too, a member of the tribe, rited into it, accepted. That last part has a mere flicker of uncertainty.
Moon Otter turns his muzzle slightly, looking from the Child to the philodox Shadow Lord. This one did not exclude you. She is free to visit the area of a Shadow Lord is present. But none who are not of the tribe are allowed within Thunder Cave.
Walks-Middle had started to get a bit more agitated at Far-Cry's response, ready to back him if there was some issue within the words, but Moon Otter's explanation satisfies her. It is reasonable, she notes. This one would only come to speak with a Shadow Lord.
Far-Cry smoothes things back with the alpha's response, chuffing his understanding of the explanation. She already knows the secrets of the cave, but she respected it to the highest degree. I trust her to keep that secret. The philodox then looks towards Walks-Middle again after another moment. Is there something you wanted to speak about?
Moon Otter remains unruffled by Far-Cry's statement, as if he already knew or expected that bit of information. After a moment, he begins to lick at his chops while the other two conduct whatever business the Child came to conduct with Far-Cry.
This one would never tell another, assures Walks-Middle. It is not hers to tell. She takes a step closer to Far-Cry before continuing. Now that this one has found those who will aid her, the time is approaching for the task's completion. We will all meet together beforehand, by the month's end.
Far-Cry peers towards the Gaian, and in her statement looks a bit more excited than before. You have found the others, good, good. The pack will succeed. It... must. The philodox glances back briefly at Moon Otter as well. Speaking of packs. I did not ask last time, Moon Otter-alpha. Have you found Brings-the-Bitter-Harvest?
Moon Otter flicks an ear negatively. This one has not yet met Brings-the-Bitter-Harvest, no. Does he reside upon the bawn, or in the scab?
Yes, it will, agrees Walks-Middle confidently, her paw lifting and re-setting on the ground, as if impatient to get started /then/. She holds off on further comments as Abraxas is mentioned, allowing Far-Cry to answer that.
He goes between, replies Far-Cry with a slow swish of his tail behind him in thought. He did live with the Wolverine pack in the Scab before. Where Fenrir's children claim their territory.
Moon Otter huffs, This one and Culls-the-Herd will have little trouble finding him once we decide to do so. Indeed, finding someone is not a large challenge for two no-moons.
This one has not seen Bitter-Harvest for a long while, notes Walks-Middle. There is another matter this one sought you for, the Child adds, a bit of a slyer look to her posture, more amused, as she turns back to Far-Cry. This one has given Tenderfoot a task which requires her speaking with a Philodox. It would be good if it was you. But then she cannot go to you for the other tasks I give her.
Far-Cry doesn't disagree. The philodox dips his head at the ragabash, adding, Culls-the-Herd has tracked down many others before, using her Gifts or her knowledge. I am curious to know who tracks better, Moon Otter-alpha. And in his distraction, the halfmoon just manages to glance back to Walks-Middle in time to see that sly look. His head quirks as he hears the task presented, licking the side of his muzzle again and relaxing all that much more with the amusement presented. What task is this?
Moon Otter busies himself with grooming so as to not impede the others' discussions.
She is learning about the Auspices, answers Walks-Middle, remaining cryptic about the details. And the tribes. This one has taken your advice, though, and given much of the teaching over to Stills-the-Dance and Cracks-the-Nut-of-Truth.
Far-Cry splays his ears at the Child's vague answer, eyeing her carefully before turning towards the cave. He gets but one pawstep into the air before stopping. After a short look at Moon Otter, the philodox turns back to Walks-Middle. We cannot talk about this in Thunder Cave. Maybe I should meet you on your tribe's territory?
Moon Otter chews a flea. Die, flea. Die.
Walks-Middle does not move any closer to Thunder Cave as Far-Cry takes that step, but flicks her ears at his answer. Yes. You are welcome there. We will speak later, then, concerning this.
Far-Cry huffs affirmingly to the Child, turning himself back around and actually away from the cave itself. Gazing over at Moon Otter and seeing the alpha just grooming himself, he stalks closer to the Gaian to bump her shoulder lightly, as if to nudge her away like two kids going off to play beneath the parent's nose.
Moon Otter doesn't seem inclined to prevent the two from wandering off if that's what they're up to.
Walks-Middle brightens at that nudge, although she hesitates a moment, also peering in Moon Otter's direction before she shoves Far-Cry playfully away in return. She starts to move off, but then turns back around, taking a few steps toward the Elder on the rock. Would you like to come, Moon Otter-rhya? And see the territory of the Children?
Far-Cry sidesteps with the countershove, again almost moving to push back. But he stops short as the Gaian addresses the elder, and one might say he looks almost horrified. Almost, but not quite. The philodox stares though.
Moon Otter looks up from his own personal flea impergium. Is it no longer on the island in the middle of the lake? Has it expanded?
Walks-Middle can't help but notice Far-Cry's reaction, her ears lowering slightly, but she continues. No, it is not on the island. We have claimed some of Wolf Woods to the south as ours. The clearing with the giant Oak.
Moon Otter pushes to all fours, stretches his hind legs, and descends from the rock leading to the mouth of the cave above. This one would like to see your tribe's new territory, yes. It would be good to know where to find other tribal elders if there is need to contact them quickly, and this one has had little time to truly explore with the cubs that need teaching.
Far-Cry looks ever more alarmed, though he tries hard to hide it. Worried, more like. But seeing as he's not in charge of territories and where they lie, the halfmoon keeps it in. The island was where that Satired theurge tried to go. The one who was a Silver Fang, but lost Falcon's blessing. Before that, though, no tribes laid claim to the woods there. He glances back towards Walks-Middle as the alpha approaches them from his perch.
The Gnawers kept Squeaks on the island for a time, too, adds Walks-Middle. Unlike Far-Cry, the Child actually seems pleased that Moon Otter agrees, her tail wagging slightly. Good! This one will show the way. She nudges Far-Cry faintly again, almost reassuring, before starting to head back toward the woods.
Moon Otter joins the other two, falling in behind the Child-Guardian as she leads the impromptu group towards Coggie-Land. This one always though the island was not a particularly good place to claim. True, it is isolated. But it is such a long swim unless you have a boat. And the water is so cold in winter that the swim is dangerous--even for garou. Moon Otter then observes, It would not be a glorious death for a garou.
Far-Cry hence falls in behind the pair, keeping close but not /too/ close to either of them. Especially Moon Otter. The philodox snorts in agreement, shaking himself off the idea of death by drowning. It would not be bad to claim as territory, for a pack.
Walks-Middle also chuffs her agreement, rather amused at the observation. No, not a glorious death at all. This one considered the island, when she heard of the Theurge who tried claiming it, but this Clearing suits her tribe, and it is not as difficult to get to, she explains as she leads the pair toward the south, picking up speed.
Moon Otter huffs. It seems a wise change. And he picks up the pace.
National Park, Oak Clearing(#3266RJ)
In the forest mixture of evergreen and deciduous trees, this clearing looks almost, but not quite, planned and shaped by human hands. At one end of the clearing, a huge oak tree stands its ages-old sentinel over the area. Around the clearing are mostly evergreens, generally Douglas firs, their coloration shrouding the clearing from the surrounding woods regardless of season. The sky arches high overhead, reaching into the infinite. Tracks seem to be sparse through the clearing, dominated by wolf tracks. Before the oak, a large slab of rock juts up from the ground at an angle. Granite-grey, the stone looks like a small probe of bedrock pushing slightly through the skin of the earth into the outside air. To one side of the stone is a small rowan bush.
Contents:
Moon Otter(#2552PJc)
Walks-Middle
Obvious exits:
Forest
Far-Cry follows along in relative silence afterwards, saving his breath for travel. Only when they've reached the edges of the new territory does he again get a little wary of approach.
When they do reach the edges, Walks-Middle turns her head to glance back at the pair with her. We are here. Come, further in. Another reassuring glance is sent in Far-Cry's direction, and then she proceeds, leading them to the clearing that surrounds the large, ancient-seeming Oak. This, she notes, with no small amount of awe and pride, is part of what the Children look after now.
Moon Otter follows into the territory, seemingly taking it all in before he focuses on the mighty oak--as if saving the best for last. He then looks the oak over, sniffing, and gazing straight upwards into the branches and leaves above. This one remembers this tree from before, many turning of the seasons ago. This place is strong with the Wyld and the forest. This is territory truly worth protecting.
Far-Cry takes a back seat to the inspection and investigation, coming to a stop beside the Gaian elder. He too, stares up at the great oak after he's done scanning the general area. The wolves here will have protection too, with Garou here to watch over them.
Walks-Middle remains next to Far-Cry, allowing the Shadow Lord elder to inspect the Oak. Yes, one can feel its connection to the Grandmother and the Wyld. We will guard this faithfully. And yes, the wolf packs, too. We will watch to see that they are not harmed.
Moon Otter circles around the entire base of the large oak, coming full circle as he finishes his re-acquaintance. The no-moon then settles onto his haunches and asks a question of the Child. Do you intend to take a mate from among them and bear pups?
Far-Cry flattens his ears back abruptly at the question from the no-moon to the full. He turns off, hackles tickling up along his nape as he physically displaces himself to a different part of the giant tree's roots. The philodox, though, does look back at the Child elder to listen to her reply.
Walks-Middle doesn't actually seem offended by the question, just mildly surprised, her ears perking forward a moment before relaxing again. Maybe, she answers. This one may consider it at some point. Not now.
Moon Otter glances briefly after the other Shadow Lord as he moves slightly away from the other two. He turns from one to the other. It is truly excellent to see garou continuing to look after the wolves here. It is demanding work, time consuming, and a duty that is often neglected--until something happens or a blatent threat arrives. Then everyone and their dam's sibling's offspring who rarely step foot into the woods pretend as if it was always the most important thing ever.
Far-Cry, having removed himself briefly from the talk about mates and pups, licks at his chops as he lowers his nose to sniff out some of the scents upon it. Moon Otter's pseudo-complaint definitely is agreed with, a snort blowing dust out of the philodox's way as he smells.
Walks-Middle's own glance toward Far-Cry is vaguely apologetic, although it smoothes back into an almost proud amusement at Moon Otter's statements. Not everyone sees what must be done until it is obvious. This one was told since cubhood that the wolf kin, especially, must be looked after. She is glad that her tribe has grown, so that she can do more to aid them.
Moon Otter focuses on Walks-Middle. This one is pleased to see that at least some members of the sept still value and follow the traditions of the garou. Though it could be that this one has simply been gone so long and visited only septs that were steeped in tradition, had fewer homids, and were not located anywhere near scabs and the shock has been overly jarring.
Far-Cry gradually moves closer, interested in the topic shared still. How far did you go, Moon Otter-alpha? asks the philodox from curiosity. You did come here to perform tasks for your rank challenge, yes?
The Sept is not traditional, agrees Walks-Middle, but many try to follow the Ways as best they can. This one, though, has never seen another Sept. It may be a mixture of both truth and shock.
Moon Otter exhales, puffing the lips of his muzzle in the process before responding to the Gaian. This one cannot yet be certain, having not had time to spend with many others of the sept yet. And does not wish to speak of things that this one finds offensive, which may simply be accepted as normal at the sept now. The elder moot should prove to be enlightening. Moon Otter then turns to Far-Cry. This one cannot give details of the challenge, as it is a ragabash-type challenge. Moon Otter then, possibly to deflect what might be a typical assumption, further offers: And not given by a Shadow Lord.
Far-Cry looks between Walks-Middle and Moon Otter at the topic between them. He flickers his ears at the answer he's given, head tilting slightly to a side. Who will determine if you succeed or fail at this challenge? queries the philodox further, his investigation born of curiosity.
Moon Otter answers the other Shadow Lord's question. The Master of the Challenge at the other sept. Though judging by the number of times this one has been refered to as ~legendary~ since returning to this sept, the challenge might have been far easier to perform here.
Always wise, chuffs Walks-Middle, to investigate, learn more. This Sept is likely not the same as when you left. His last comment to her brings a more thoughtful expression, her head tilting to one side. Yes, enlightening. Her ears perk with interest at Moon Otter's response regarding the challenge, but she herself doesn't pry.
Far-Cry licks his nose, taking in a good, hard sniff. Then you mean to leave when you feel you have succeed in the challenge, concludes the philodox. There's no disappointment or sadness to the statement, but a cool neutrality.
Moon Otter flicks an ear at the question, an indication of potential indecisiveness. This one does not know if his services are truly needed here or not, as Culls-the-Herd is clearly a very capable no moon of the tribe. This one's services to tribe and gaia may be needed more elsewhere than here. It will depend on what gaia asks of this one afterwards.
Being in lupus, Walks-Middle can't quite hide the vague disagreement that creeps over her at Moon Otter's words, but she shakes out her fur, shrugging the sentiment off. The Sept is always in need of more warriors, more guardians, and strong leaders, she notes.
Far-Cry sits where he is, sharing a similar line of disagreement. He doesn't express it nearly as openly, however, choosing to remain silent and stock still as he watches the pair.
Moon Otter huffs his agreement, but then counters it. This is true here, and at many other septs. Is it better to have one caern that is extremely well defended and strong while leaving many others undefended? Or is it better to have defenders who are not as numerous or as skilled as desired to feel a caern is completely protected? Neither is a good choice to have to make, but it is one we all must at some point. And pray that we make the right choice. Of course, there are others who prefer to sneak in, find the enemy, and then poke it in the eye in its own den.
Far-Cry scrapes a paw against the ground, growling lowly at the last. And wake the sleeping dragons after without a big enough war party to slay it when it roars from its den to consume its wakers. He does glance back to Walks-Middle however, looking undecided on the choices presented and which to actually agree with.
Do you go to defend the Caerns that have allies nearby, although they themselves be less protected? counters Walks-Middle. Or remain at the one surrounded by darkness, although its numbers are greater? There is rarely a completely right choice, but the best choice for the moment, for the battle, which we hope will win the war.
Moon Otter huffs in agreement. If there were a completely correct choice, the garou nation would have made it by now. But the choice can be slippery, like a truth that is disgreed upon by two garou--each claiming to know what the truth is, but neither being completely correct. Moon Otter looks to the philodox present. Far-Cry has likely seen a number of these.
The only constant need, Far-Cry rumbles with a small lick of his muzzleside, is a strong leader for others to follow. Strength, however, comes in different types. The halfmoon glances back over to the pair in differing expressions, his warmed for Walks-Middle and cooled for Moon Otter.
Walks-Middle tilts her head at Far-Cry's words, considering them. It is a time for strength. Not just physical, but strength of presence. Of conviction. Wisdom. She steps forward, moving closer to the Oak, tipping back at her head to peer at it before looking back at Moon Otter. In a time of divisions and such enemies as have made themselves known, can the place stand long without a strong leader to anchor it?
Moon Otter offers an appraising--and pleased--look towards Far-Cry at his words. He then flicks an ear negatively, in support of the Child's words. It is fortunate that the sept here does have a strong leader. It is truly unfortunate that some garou fail to support her and the sept.
Far-Cry gazes back at Walks-Middle, watching her a moment, before turning back to Moon Otter and dipping his head again. Culls-the-Herd is adren, but she has had few supporters. Her ways do not match with the ways some have been taught to believe as better. Here is not a group ruled by fear and presence alone.
Strength comes in different types, echoes Walks-Middle, returning Far-Cry's look. This one doubts there are many that can lead a Sept to everyone's satisfaction. One can only do one's best.
Moon Otter can't entirely mute a look of surprise at Far-Cry's insinuation, followed by the Gaian's words. Perhaps surprisingly, he follows this up with what appears to be an honest inquiry. What better way is it that this sept needs that it does not currently have?
Suddenly on the spot, Far-Cry blinks and looks a touch uncomfortable again. She has not packed once since coming here, observes the half moon. Her use of the punishment rite to Satire the theurge from cliath to cub, disturbed the halfmoon council though we accepted it. And now there are Black Spiral Dancers seeking to take cubs and metis. These are dangerous times, is all I say. Our elders who meet soon, will be looked to. Culls-the-Herd will be looked to.
Still, adds Walks-Middle as her mood seems to brighten slightly, it is in dangerous times that leaders, that Garou, are proved. What divides us will be brought into the open, faced, mended. Our enemies will soon feel our claws, as we scout and prepare for battle even now. The tide that turns darker will turn lighter once again.
Moon Otter looks mildly perturbed initially as he responds, but settles down as he continues to speak. This one knows nothing of the punishment rite used on the cliath, but half-moons--no offense, Far-Cry--are much like a diverse sept such as this one, and often not all are pleased with any decision of any type. Nor does this one know all the details surrounding the failed Great Hunt here. And Culls-the-Herd is currently forming a pack now that this one has lessened her burden by taking eldership of the tribe and she has the time to do so. This one hopes to learn much more of the internal struggles that divide the sept. Understanding the disagreements is the first step to resolving them. And if this one can gain some insight into how to better improve things at the sept, he does hold the Alpha's ear and she will likely listen to this one's counsel. But this one will offer no advice until more is known, so that the advice is tempered with knowledge and wisdom. This one knows that there is more to strength than simply strength.
Far-Cry gets up to his feet again, legs moving as he paces away and back as he contemplates. In the end as he comes to a stop, he rumbles thoughtfully. The gathering of the elders would tell more.
Walks-Middle considers Moon Otter's words for a long moment, then lets out a huff of a breath. This one agrees with what you have said. It is difficult to find a solution when you do not know the sides of the issue. It is good that you are feeling out how the Sept works, to better understand and aid. Beyond that, though, the young wolf falls silent.
Moon Otter gives his chops a single, irritated lick. This one suspects the upcoming elder moot will see no resolutions made, only accusations and squabbles and posturing by all. But that in itself will better show what the issues are, who is being reasonable, and who will simply not listen to reason. And those that will listen to reason will make themselves known. From there, the sept can move towards resolving the problems with those who are willing to pursue a solution--as opposed to their own inflexible ideals that fail to take into account the others. It will be.... an interesting moot. Likely with very hot tempers. But it should reveal much of the state of the sept in very short order. Hopefully it is not as bad as believed, and is nothing more than a few vocal agitators.
If it's possible to give off a sardonic humor in lupus, Far-Cry might achieve such with a comment of how the philodox moots feel the same way. The halfmoon though, shakes out his fur again and sneezes once, clearing things up and out. Then, things will continue as they are until then. There are still cubs to be taught and battles to fight.
It is not words, but action that will be looked for in the end, most likely, answers Walks-Middle. But the talk will reveal in what direction the action must be taken, as you say. One has to wonder why that one Rite isn't performed before such meetings, to calm the tempers.
Moon Otter pushes to all fours, preparing to head back towards the western bawn. No, this one thinks that no actions will be taken and no peace made at the moot. But it should, as Walks-the-Middle-Road says, give an idea as to what path should be taken to if not resolve the matter, at least allow the ruffled fur an opportunity to once again lie flatter. Until then, yes, there is much to do, cubs to teach, packs to form, battles to wage. But particularly cubs to teach for this one. It was a pleasure meeting you both, and thank you for showing this one your tribe's claimed territory. This one will certainly afford it the same respect as you've given to ours.
Far-Cry's own hackles are once more lying flat against his neck. The philodox gazes at the ragabash with an odd respectful regard, though he doesn't move to join him in departure.
Walks-Middle chuffs her agreement and acknowledgement of Moon Otter's words. It was only right, to show you mine, as this one has seen yours. This one appreciates the respect, as she will continue to respect your own. Gaia guard your steps, Moon Otter-rhya.
As he begins to pad off, the fostern Lord offers a farewell that is formal but still bears a no-moon twist. Gaia light your path--or darken it--so that you may better server her.
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