Duane is interested now, his own dark eyes widening, reflecting more firelight. "Yeah? I thought you meant who was Guardians before them, yo," he says. "I thought, you know, they was... /gone/."

Joseph asks, suddenly urgent, "You have word from Quiet?"

Sepdet moves to Joseph and sets her small hands on his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. ~Unicorn. I heard this secondhand from Tecmessa: Unicorn says Quiet is returning from Erebus. With her pack, or alone, I really don't know.~

Joseph can't help it and asks, "How? When?"

A long, midtoned howl of announcement echoes up towards the bluff, ringing off the mountainsides clearly. Hello! Three-Blades here!

Sepdet shakes her head. ~I don't know...~ she glances up and returns the howl with a sort of yip that's close enough to pass for a wolf-greeting. Yo!

Joseph lets the initial enthusiasm and urgency of the news bleed out of him as he settles back to his seat, thoughtfully, and waits for Sepdet to say more--if she knows more. His eyes search the dark for the approaching Gnawer.

Three-Blades appears shortly after, bounding up the slope side with a wolven grace. She pace slows as she nears the small grouping, and a light chuff passes from her muzzle. Greetings. Again the pack meets under moonlight. Ears cant to either side, curious to what the trio would be discussing as she scans their faces.

Duane falls into some deep thought too, the knife going dead in his hand, dangling there between his knees. He watches the fire burn silently, a quick wave going to Three-Blades.

Sepdet shakes her head at Joseph. ~That's all I heard.~ She smiles down at the Gnawer. ~Tecmessa's news from Unicorn. You see...~ she spreads her hands. ~Lake Arthur was patrolled by Crossing-- that's Quiet's first pack, the one I try to emulate. When that one faded, she made another. Based on Lake Arthur. The Dancers came in and ruined the island after she went to Erebus last spring. That just made me -burn-, the way you'd be furious if the Wyrm snuck in here while Joseph was away.~ She takes a deep breath. ~She's the one thing that'd make me give up the island. But that doesn't mean giving up the pack.~

Joseph draws a breath after some careful consideration. "Well, we will wait and see. I think we should seek out the spirits ourselves, and see if Moon Laughs Quiet needs any help."

Three-Blades lowers down onto her haunches by the fire, enjoying the warm it radiates onto her fur. Taking in the topic of the conversation, she whuffs her questions. What would she do? Guard the whole island, or would she wish a pack there as well? The Gnawer's black ears perk towards the others. You say this ~Erebus~ is where we are changed, made pure of the past. Would she remember her old ways, guarding the island and around it?

Sepdet sobers and rests her chin on the top of Joseph's head. ~Exactly,~ she says, to both of them. ~I'd meant to go looking for her, and it's past time. And if she comes back, she'll be changed. I don't know if she'll be able or wanting to take the island again. In fact, she may be the first to need 'healing and rest' from us.~

Duane nod slowly, then builds steam. "Straight, yo," he says to the fire. "We probably should just do our thing, wait, see if Quiet comes back as herself. Then we go on and figure out who does what with the island."

Sepdet nods. ~We continue on our path. This doesn't change our purpose in the slightest.~ She adds wistfully, ~I think she may have been the one who first told me about Arthur and Avalon, while I was healing in her cave after... after one of my own run-ins with Dancers.~

Three-Blades swishes her tail, thoughtfully curling it about her forepaws. Maybe we could invite her to pack with us? Blades' head tilts slightly gazing around at the three. Would she want to? Or maybe she would return tired... Her head dips in a nod between her shoulders. Yes, maybe she would want to rest on the island first. This one still thinks it best we act first.

Sepdet purses her lips at Yi. ~Well, I hope the rest of her pack's coming back too,~ the Strider says with faint guilt. ~But Tecmessa just said 'Quiet'. We'll see.~

Joseph answers only, "I remember the Mother, Quiet. I'd be honored to pack with her." He quiets, then, pulling Sepdet out from behind him to sit at the fire in and among them. "But," he begins again, "we should as you say look to ourselves. And this means talking to spirits. First, though. I need to see this jungle of glass and steel."

The Gnawer, at this point, brings up another question welling around her head. Will we announce this at the moot next night? About our pack, its mission, and spirit quest?

Sepdet lets herself be dragged and settles down next to him. ~I was thinking of announcing,~ she replies. ~Do you wish me to? And do you wish to go to the scab tonight?~ She looks around.

Duane keeps looking into the fire, eyes drawn to his namesake. "Word. Let's announce, call ourselves out, you know? Let folks know our business," he says. "But I ain't up for a run into town tonight, no-huh. How long would it take us to just get there?"

Joseph remains silent. It would be hard to say the Wendigo is brooding, but it certainly looks like he might be.

Sepdet laughs and glances up at the moon. ~Slowpokes,~ she growls teasingly. ~That's the trouble with Garou these days. No stamina. I mean, I'm probably going to run over three thousand miles just in the next few days--~ she breaks off and peers sidelong at the Wendigo.

Sepdet noses Joseph's shoulder quietly, large dark eyes peering up at him. It might be disconcerting to the cliaths to see a Fostern imitating a kitten.

Three-Blades licks the side of her muzzle, thinking just how long /does/ it take to run from here to the city. She certainly does it very often these days. Not too long, if one runs part way in wolf. Her jaws open in a grin to Duane, through her eyes slide gradually to the 'brooding' Wendigo.

The strider gets the Wendigo's attention easily enough, and he smiles. "I'm not afraid of running, though news from the city today tells me that they are killing dogs. It may not be wise to run on all fours there now. I wish to go, but right now I would rather talk with the spirits." Getting to his feet, he moves toward the cave.

Three-Blades flickers her ears in affirmation about the dogs. This one does not run through the city in wolf, only when in the forest. As the Wendigo rises, she dips her head accompanied with a farewell chuff.

"The crazy Sioux's got the idea," Duane rumbles, half to himself, as he uncoils from beside the fire, stretching upward. His hands lock, his arms stretch high, and then he stalks off after Joseph.

Sepdet rises to her feet and pads after. ~C'mon, you need to see this, Yi,~ she calls, heading after him.

Three-Blades blinks a couple times, then she gets the idea that Duane expressed, rising to her paws and glancing at Sepdet before slipping after the others.

Joseph gets inside the cave, where it's dark and the symols painted on the walls are shrouded from the full moon's light. Nevertheless, the Wendigo has a small mirror in there, and he uses what light there is to cross over. On the other side, the symbols glow against the wall, red in color.

You slip past the brush and scrub to enter the cave. Winding back through the labyrinth, you eventually come out into the cave proper.

Duane slips past the brush and scrub to enter the cave. Duane has left.

Cave of Wind
It is said that Father Wind, known to the Lakota as Tate, lives in a cave at the end of the world. Well, perhaps this isn't the end of the world, but it's the end of the continent, and the Wendigo around here have seen fit to name the cave after the sacred being. It is aptly named, thanks to the whistling wind created by the incessant breeze from off the bluff. This 'voice of the cave' is oddly serene. Carved by an ancient glacier, the cavern's shape is as mercurial as the ice that formed it. It winds through the stone in an odd labyrinth. Twenty or thirty feet in, it opens to a wider, oblong shape, and it's here that the Wendigo make their home. Glyphs paint the walls, and another, smaller firepit sits to one side. The ceiling is, in places, more than two stories high into the depths of the mountain, and the cave breaks off into smaller little tunnels, few of which are large enough to explore.
Contents:
Duane
Guitar
Obvious exits:
Out

Sepdet appears at the mouth of the cave. Sepdet has arrived.

Joseph appears at the mouth of the cave. Joseph has arrived.

Sepdet sobers as they step into the cave, expression going a little distant with the tug of some memory that's evidently a troublesome one. But she seems more relaxed on the shadowy side of the mirror.

Three-Blades gazes around, mostly at the strange red glyphs that glow lightly on the flipside of the cave. Inevitably, she lets through a small whine of nervousness. She's never been in a cave like this. As much as it glows like city lights, the cave has a haunting presence that seems to point out just how out of place she feels.

Sepdet notices Yi's discomfort and moves to put her hand on the Gnawer's back. ~It's the True World,~ she tells the city-born gently. ~You have nothing to fear here except that which you take with you.~

A whisper comes from behind, the language familiar to those who have spent any time with Joseph--Lakota. Though, it's /not/ the Wendigo that speaks the words. They seem to come from the wind. The walls. Those that know the language well, hear, "There is more than what you bring, but nothing to fear within these walls."

Duane is not surprised by the voice, though he does find himself turning to try to pinpoint the source. He murmurs a quiet greeting in the same language, the words especially strange coming from him.

Three-Blades' head dips between her shoulders in a quiet sort of range between cower and curiosity. Her black ears flicker to and fro, one perking to listen to Sepdet's words. The newmoon moves a bit closer to the Strider, feeling more comfortable around someone who she knows is home in the Umbra. Wonder what spirits live here, she rumbles half testing the waters, half curious to know. Or maybe more 60-40. At the words of murmured, her fur bristles involuntarily as she glances behind her to see who spoke. Her amber gaze flickers from Joseph to Duane as the two seem to know the language of the wind. She falls silent now, listening to the wind and the group's mutual breathing.

Sepdet looks about expectantly, peering into the darkness as if searching for someone she knows. She touches her braided sidelock respectfully at the sound of the voice, brows knitting slightly as she tries to pick out the meaning from what little Lakota she knows.

For a moment, a white-haired indian appears beside Sepdet, his smile more amused than amusing. He appears, then disappears again. Joseph curls to a seat in the soft dirt and gets comfortable. If he heard the indian, he makes no obvious showing of it.

Duane follows the Wendigo's lead, easing comfortably into a cross-legged sitting position, long arms propped on his knees. He watches the indian fade, then asks Joseph, "Any particular business with the spirits tonight?" quietly, his gaze drifting, as if trying to pick where the spirit will appear again.

Joseph shrugs faintly. "I thought to speak to the old ones, to see what they thought of our search for a totem."

Sepdet addresses the air softly. "Thanks, Old One, for your guidance when Soulcatcher was on Walk." There's a rich depth to her voice as if each word weighed more than air, for while the words she speaks aloud are Garou, Spirit Speech lets her imbue them with a meaning spirits can sense behind the gibberish of sound.

The air stirs around Sepdet's ears, and the spirits' answer comes only to her. It's a quiet thank you, more felt than heard, and then the air is still again.

Joseph watches Sepdet, inviting her to sit beside him.

Three-Blades feels just remotely comfortable enough to sit down, tail curling around her paws. She rumbles a soft greeting, unsure if the spirit understands, but figures the Indian ancestors knew their wolven kin enough to intepret nonspoken languages. Her gaze travels up and around the walls before it rests on Joseph. Our search for Unicorn? She questions inquisitively.

Duane nods at Joseph, thinking the same thought. Again he looks to where he supposes the spirit might reappear before letting his gaze land on Joseph again, deferring as usual.

Sepdet moves obediently to Joseph's side, dropping to her habitual low crouch with her arms wrapped round her knees. Her motions are more careful here, manner relaxed yet formal, like a swan gliding on the lake. "Perhaps the question should be: Unicorn?"

Joseph nods slowly, and when he speaks, he seems to talk to more than just those garou who are in the tight circle. Though he doesn't address the spirits that obviously move about them directly, it's obvious he's keeping them within the conversation. "The horned one. Salmon. Grandfathers, which would make a spirit equal to our task?"

Three-Blades peers about her with an evident search for these beings that Joseph talks to, mildly wishing inside to explore some more about spirits later on. Ears perk to listen for any answers that may whisper in the breeze.

There's a sursurrus of cold air that bites like windchill, for all that it's no more than a faint breath. Whispers and a faint scent of blood on the air that fades quickly. "What task?" the question comes from the shadows.

Sepdet covers her mouth with her hands. ~Here we go again.~ She looks between Duane and Yi. ~Your turn to answer that question.~

Duane uses spirit speech also to layer meaning in his words. "To protect the lake. To make it, like, a refuge for our people. To make connections between the city and the forest, yo - keep both places from getting too scandalous and out of hand."

Three-Blades softly rumbles in answer to Sepdet, as well as the spirits, adding to Duane's answer. The pack serves Gaia to honor by healing and cleansing both wild and Scab. The island, to keep it pure and protect it from harm from the Wyrm. And to provide a refuge for those who wish it, a chance to rest and relax.

Sepdet smiles faintly at Duane's answer, although she looks to Joseph as well. Joseph is already looking back to Sepdet. His answer comes quickly, once the Strider looks his way. "We do what we have always done."

Again there's the kiss of winter on their faces. -Both stand for healing and strength. Salmon demands wisdom. Salmon swims in Enigmas. Are you wise? The Horned One follows a code of Justice. Will you defend the weak, even those your own kind scorn?"

To the spirit's further questions, Three-Blades has her answers after a bit of thought. This one seeks wisdom of the wild, from the ones she wishes to pack with. Her eyes gaze over each one in turn. And this one protects the weak, teaching them to learn how to stand on their own. Even if this one does not particularly like stubborn cubs on full moons.

Joseph has to smile at the reference to cubs on the full moon. "You know my mind, grandfather. I can serve either spirit. But perhaps we should talk to each, and see what they say."

Sepdet rubs her chin thoughtfully. "Does that mean I can't fight just because someone insults my honor?" There's an edge to her voice that suggests she has someone very particular in mind.

"The Horned One will tell you her Law. Grandmother Salmon may not come. Still and cold are the waters of the Lakes. Thin or dead are the streams across these lands."

Joseph frowns at the thought that salmon might not come.

Three-Blades licks her muzzletip as if knowing the very one Sepdet refers to, though her thoughts remain silent on that...not without a bit of mirth in memory. Were we to seek Salmon, where would we look? Her question quiet, barely uttered through a low whuff.

"Where clear water runs." The temperature of the cave is slowly growing colder and colder, enough to penetrate even fur like icewater.

Three-Blades hunkers in a bit, ears slanting back on her head with evident indication of trying to conserve heat through her small furry body. Where the clear water runs... she repeats. Where would be clear water running? Her ears perk briefly. Maybe the waterfall at the caern?

Sepdet's eyes slip out of focus, a smile resting lightly on the corners of her mouth. ~Perhaps, although that's quite a climb even for Grandmother.~

Three-Blades looks puzzled a bit, as she thought these spirits just seem to materialize and disappear from thin air, so why not a Salmon-spirit materialize in the pool? Her gaze turns to the Strider for a bit. What if we brought a salmon, from a different place, and placed her in the pool for a little while? Would she speak with us then? The little Gnawer is trying her hardest, evidently, to be helpful.

Sepdet reassures Three-blades, "I think Joseph and I can call a Salmon-spirit, at least long enough to talk to us and tell us her needs. I know her well." "Wendigo and the Old Woman of the River have blood-ties," the spirits add with a rumble.

Three-Blades slides her ears back again, but this with a bit of disppointment. She doesn't seem to have any ties with these spirits at all. Except, maybe, Salmon. But that's a story of the docks. She does, though, voice her concern about not quite being part of the group as far as connections go. A small whimper from her tells all.

Joseph slips his hand into the Gnawer's fur, gently letting her know she's part of them, as much as needs be to move forward. Drawing a breath, he lifts his chin. "I am thinking I can call one of the horned one's children, and Sepdet can call Salmon's daughter. I would do this before we get together to do a rite of totem."

"Wisdom." There is a pause, and then a fainter, kindly suggestion, perhaps more clearly from the old man who spoke at first, for it's in Lakota. "Learn about each other. You make the pack. The spirits can only guide, not shape you."

Three-Blades turns her head to nuzzle the Wendigo elder's arm with a grateful chuff. This one will try hard to add to the pack, and learn as we work together. Under any spirit, this one stands by you all. She licks the Wendigo's arm once to seal that statement.

Sepdet looks intently at Yi. "We will grow together, in time. And you'll bring scraps and tidbits of wisdom Rat's stashed away, picked up in your travels. Don't fear." She shivers and crosses her arms over herself. "Thanks again, Old Ones," she says respectfully, then moves to the mirror to slip across. The Strider isn't rude enough to say it, but it's clear she's taken all the cold she can stand.

Three-Blades flickers her ears also at the Strider, and dips her head with a chuff of resolution. Glancing around again at the glowing red glyphs, she whuffs softly in a goodbye to the Old Ones, thanking them for their wisdom before shaking her fur briefly to add some heat of muscles to her cold body.

Joseph decides o stay, at least for a little while. He apparently has some personal business with the spirits.

Three-Blades rubs her side briefly against Joseph as well, nuzzling him momentarily with her fuzzy head before following Sepdet back to the Realm. Her departing woof echoes barely in the cave as it fades away when the newmoon steps through.

Sepdet scritches Yi conspiratorially after they slip across, clearly not troubled that Joseph hasn't followed immediately. ~Wendigo bit me a few years ago,~ she tells the Gnawer in a low voice. ~With good reason, but it still puts my teeth on edge.~

Three-Blades, not having heard the lore of the Hidden Walk before, perks her ears with a bit more glad feeling as her fur returns to keeping her warm. How did Wendigo bite you? Her ears flatten a bit. And... which Wendigo? The small Gnawer doesn't exactly know spirits beyond Mama Rat and a few others.

Sepdet winces. ~A couple different spirits over the years. One that sacrificed itself to protect the whole caern from being trashed by a bane, but asked us for a bit of blood too. And a few times when I've helped Soulcatcher with Summonings, we've gotten hit with ice. Wendigo's fierce and strong, and sometimes tests those who speak to him.~

Three-Blades rumbles a bit sympathetically perhaps, knowing the cold feeling but not being bitten by ice. Wendigo's spirit must rub off on all his followers, she observes softly. Soulcatcher-rhya has that strong, fierce quality to him. If she could smirk, she would. This one hopes to have that sort of strong and fierce quality too, sometime. Maybe if this one stays up in here long enough to live as wolf, it will come. She glances up at the Strider, wondering what Sepdet thinks of the idea.

Sepdet sinks her fingers in Yi's fur to warm them, then gives her a pat. ~You have your own toughness; Rat's a survivor. Learn the Wyld ways. But don't change too much! I meant what I said about spokes, different paths. We'll need you to be our city expert, and a no-moon to pull our tails when we're too serious.~

And this one will, this one will... rumbles the newmoon as she lifts her muzzle to lick Sepdet's arm. In the meantime, though, this one will want to be under a few piles of hay, dozing away in warmth. It is a bit of a run to the den on bawn's edge. Her ears flicker forward. See you at the moot next night?

Sepdet nods emphatically. ~Depend on it.~ She touches the side of the wolf's muzzle as she heads off to the island, for her own part. ~Go well, -packmate-.~

Three-Blades whuffs a departing note, then glances back towards the cave with a little start before bounding off down the bluff towards the farmhouse barn.