Rocky Beach(#22RJ)
This small, narrow beach of sand and rock stretches out along the eastern shore of Lake Arthur, marking a break in the forests that border the clear water. Across the water, just above the dark line of trees which marks the opposite shore, the glorious colors of sunset paint the evening sky. The lake's smooth surface spreads out westward like a sheet of dark glass, reflecting the riotous patterns of the evening clouds and the red-gold light that illuminates the horizon. The island in the lake's center stands silhouetted against an incredibly beautiful, ever-changing masterpiece in vivid, shifting color.
Just to the east, the stony ground slopes gently upward to a large meadow; north and south of the beach, thick forest shrouds the lakeshore in a veil of leaves and wood. The water of the lake spreads out westward, the wooded far shore visible in the blurred distance. The island rises from the lake almost due west of here, a rocky oasis resting on the glassy surface.
Obvious exits:
Into the Water Meadow

Mist-Walker heads toward the island, silently making her way through the trees.

It may seem strange for a lone wolf to be relaxing at the edge of the lake with no other wolves visible, but there Yi is, lying upon her belly, eyes closed, simply breathing. The Gnawer's ears twitch, but otherwise there's no sign that she'd be any more than a statue.

Mist-Walker comes up behind Yi and sniffs at the Gnawer, eventually poking at her with a paw. If her aproach hasn't already woken the wolfdog.

Three-Blades heard the Fury's approach over the rocks, an ear turning to regard her before the Gnawer's eyes open. Seems the Gnawer was meditating in some way. She sniffs longly, before rising to her paws and chuffing. Hello, and good moonrise.

Mist-Walker yawns, jaws opening wide and craching audibly before they close again. Yes, time for Luna to watch over us again.

Three-Blades gives her fur a hefty shake, though she backs up before doing so. The loosening up of her muscles ends in an equally large yawn, and the Gnawer sniffs again. What brings one such as yourself to the lake?

An ear flicks back and Mist-Walker seems vaugely annoyed by the question. Originally, I was one of those who planned to form a pack with Hope-Star. I used to come here often, to leave gifts for the spirits so they would return. Certain duties drove me elsewhere, but they have been delt with now.

Three-Blades takes note of the ear flicker, then turns back to view the lake and the island for a few moments. Then she dips her head to the Fury. Good to know. There are many things to do indeed. Many things. She sniffs the air, perhaps scenting for Sepdet, but not finding the Strider's smell among the breeze. If you are with the pack, then this one would ask you a question. The Gnawer gazes curiously to the Fury.

Mist-Walker tilts her head to one side. Yes?

Which spirit do you wish for the pack? Three-Blades lowers to her haunches, tail sweeping around some gravel along the beach beneath. We have spoken of the Horned One and his dark cousin, as well as the Grandmother Salmon.

Three-Blades tilts her head slightly, the ear on the downward side splaying. I do not know of Pegasus. But then, I do not know much about the Garou sisters you run with.

Mist-Walker lifts a hind leg, to scratch at her ruff. Pegasus is a protecter of scared places, honor, and a warrior when need be.

Three-Blades rumbles as the description is given. But, what is Pegasus? Ears cant to either side, a little embarrassed that she doesn't know much about other tribes, or their totems in general.

Mist-Walker blinks and stares at Three-Blades for a moment. You do not know what Pegaus is? She normally apears as a black horse, with powerful wings and eyes like fire.

Three-Blades conjures up that image in her mind, and quite an imagination she has indeed. I should not be surprised, such a spirit exists to be the basis of the Black Furies. She seems to just crumble with embarrassment under the scrutiny. Mist-Walker snorts softly, her posture becoming less judgmental. You're not too bad, for a Gnawer of Bone.

Three-Blades seems to brighten some more under the compliment. Thank you, she rumbles softly. I have found our tribe is not as high in rank everywhere I have been, but it is good we have our place, and are given a spot on Gaia. Again, she looks around, just marvelling in the beauty of the woods. I would not have imagined such a place as this, though. And it is with pride that one of the Scab that I run here. Her fur puffs a little. Some of my former packmates would have had to shut their eyes to keep them from popping out at the sight of these trees, the water, the sky... The Gnawer seems a little lost in it all, but she does come back to reality. If one could make parts of the Scab like this, it would be a thing of wonder.

That would be doing a service for Gaia, healing some of her wound in a small way. Mist-Walker replies. What Totem had you been hoping, that the pack would search out?

Three-Blades scratches with some indecision about it, evident in her brief hesitation to answer. I have not known or seen either spirit, she admits, ears half flat with some troubles about the matter. I do not know. The more I think about it, the more I feel I have to see them, to decide. What I know of Salmon only consists of how much the twolegs would give to taste their flesh. The Horned One, I have only heard of in stories. Both are noble, both are wise in their own ways. Her shoulders roll under the fur. But if I had to pick, the Horned One's dark cousin appeals to me more. Healing and cleansing, I have no skills in. But healing the broken hearts, and cleansing the Wyrm from the Scab, I do.

[And so we fried brains, and called it a night. :)]

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