6/24/2004

02:13 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Bawn: Southern Forest(#3017RAJ)
Evergreen trees spread their overhead branches wide across the forest floor. Each tree limb interlinks with its neighbor, forming a thick overhead canopy of pine needles that leaves the forest floor dim even at noon. An apparent tenseness seems to permeate the air here, and there is a somewhat less than subtle feeling that perhaps something is watching. The behavior of the wildlife in the area betrays a certain wariness that suggests the presence of predators nearby.
The southern edge of the bawn is marked here by the railroad tracks which run from St. Claire and Kent's Crossing to the west, towards the mountains to the east.
Contents:
Jamethon(#3988PJYce$)
Obvious exits:
Ash Grove  Railroad  South  Into the Caern  Sept Compound  Half Moon Pool  Western Bawn  Central Bawn  Eastern Bawn  

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (46% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.14 and steady, and the relative humidity is 72 percent. The dewpoint is 53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)

Quiet singing floats through the air from a small gathering of trees on the bawn. The Gnawer's tones are not as great as a galliard's, but not like any cat's yowlings. She sits at the base of a tree, foot sticking out and tapping out a light beat as she twirls a stick in her hand.

Perhaps attracted to the sound or just in the area, the Gatekeeper wanders through the bawn towards the song being sung. In his right hand is his spear, the tip wrapped in a thong-bound oilcloth. His expression is perhaps a bit curious as he steps around a sizable tree, finally catching eye of the singer. He only stands there for some time, waiting and watching, mellowed and mostly blank expression worn upon his face.

Yi seems lost in the activity of stick twirling, lyrics fading into a hum as she remembers a verse in mind. She straightens up a bit with her back still against the tree, stretching up. The Gnawer doesn't seem to have noticed the Gatekeeper until her stick drops to the ground before her. As she leans forward to pick it back up, a slight ray of sunlight catches against the spear and it draws her attention. The Get gets a brief arch of an eyebrow from her.

Jamethon shrugs his head to the side and steps closer, sitting back against a tree across from Yi, looking out into the forest beyond. Not one for small talk thats too small, he offers, "You did well at the Hunt. Others lived because of what you could see and they could not."

Yi blinks twice, delicately drawing the stick into her fingers. "As did you. I saw you kill many, and protect those who were wounded." Something about the neutrality of the reply tips off the fact that she does seem a twinge uncomfortable in the Gatekeeper's presence.

Jamethon doesn't make much of a physical reply, only answering, "Those you save today, maybe there to save your ass when you get in over your head. In effect... you protect yourself when you protect others." He seems perhaps a bit tired, but at least not irritable, yet. He lays the spear down on the ground at his side and a feint ghost of a smile touches at a corner of his mouth. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asks with a slight level of humor in his tone.

Yi again, blinks at the question. Trying to level her answer, she involuntarily glances at some point beyond the Get into the trees behind him, drawing up her leg that was sticking out. "I only think of what you told me ever since that time, every time I see you."

Jamethon nods his head as he answers, "Ahh. I see. Perhaps you think too much? The answer is there. You don't need to find it... sometimes things have a habit of finding you. Much like you just found me." He speaks the last part in a cryptic fashion.

A shot of an annoyed expression flashes over the Gnawer's features, her eyes focusing back onto the Get. "I know that. I /know/ I think too much. Everyone keeps scolding me for it, so." As if willing the fuse inside to be put out again, she looks down at the stick in her hand, sliding a finger over the bark of the twig.

Jamethon tilts his head to the side and seems inquisitive, "So?"

"So I know!" comes the curt, tense reply. Biting on her tongue, Yi inwardly curses her lack of self-control. Sighing out in immediate regret, she looks back up to the Get. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to be so rude." Her head tilts back against the tree.

Jamethon gives a hearty amount of laughter now at her outburst, seeming quite jovial towards her distress. "Don't mind me! Let it out, pretend, just for now, I'm just some guy... perhaps you, as well, hold back too much?"

Yi narrows her gaze at the Get, feeling a bit stung by his laughing at her while she's feeling angry. "It does not go well to be angry all the time either."

Jamethon shrugs once more, as if it is something he has heard before. "Then get away with it while you can?" He considers outloud.

Yi arches one brow, trying to interpret the meaning behind the Get's words. Rather than replying directly, she just resumes her stick twirling. "I wonder if Pierces Ice and White Bear actually did something with those weapons the Dancers carried..."

Jamethon shakes his head at the question and eyeing the stick twirled in the Gnawer's hand he seems almost sorry for Yi, or perhaps for the stick. "I am not sure. But it will be taken care of, of this I am sure. Does it concern you?"

"Holding that weapon," Yi explains quietly, "felt... wrong. Just holding it." Her left hand, the one with the stick, is held out in front of her, as if she were to examine it for visible taint. "I didn't want to give it to White Bear, because I was not sure how he would react to such a Wyrm-ridden thing. I hope the choice was right." Her hand returns to its original place, again twirling the twig. "But why should I worry, right? I should simply live my life, stop thinking so much about things that do not really concern me."

Jamethon nods his head, in agreement or not it is difficult to be sure. "Or perhaps there was reason to your worry. The Wyrm concerns us all, Three-Blades. There is a reason why extremes are called extremes. Have you concerns about Joshua?"

"Only that he confuses me as much as I confuse him," Yi replies, setting the stick down finally. "A Walker who refuses the city? It is almost as strange as the time I joined Salmon's Leap and often stayed with Leonard at the bluff." The Gnawer's head shakes slightly. "But more importantly, I do not think I can join Pierces Ice's pack under Bear, either." Again, the thinking. She shrugs.

Jamethon nods his head to the statement, "Why not? We should not confuse too much thinking with thinking at all. We can not all just act brashly without thought. But we must learn at least, to trust our instincts."

Yi brushes a hand against the ground, fingertips dragging furrows into the dirt and leaves. "Then, call it instinct. I don't feel anything for that pack, even though I respect them."

Jamethon then nods his head once more and questions a bit further, "Then have you decided upon a pack?"

The Gnawer's hand digs into the dirt, clenching up. "No." Yi looks down to her hand, staring at the back of it. "And the moon is fast changing again. My time to decide about Resonance is growing short."

Jamethon looks towards Yi's hand in the dirt, his own hand moving to rest, almost reassuringly, upon his spear. "Resonance is a pack that would gain you much glory, if they live up to their potential. You would be directly serving an Adren and a sept Alpha. Among Children of Gaia and Fianna around you, you would been seen by outsiders as a pretender perhaps, but that is their perception not yours. Their spirit is one of great respect. Stag. He is noble, passionate, and strong. He comes to those who are lost and guides them where they need to go."

Yi head tilts at the theurge's words. "He comes to those who are lost and guides them where they need to go..." she echoes in a softer tone, fist loosening its grip on the ground. "A finder of lost and of proper paths," she adds after, as if quoting someone else. She smirks slightly at that, looking back up to the Get. "Do you think I'm lost?"

Jamethon shrugs now once more, as if it is not his place to say. "What I do know, is that those who serve him are called honorable and virile. Willful and strong."

"Virile? What does that mean?" Yi quirks her head, not recognizing the vocabularly.

Jamethon quirks his head slightly and with a soft cough into an enclosed hand he offers, "Ahem. Lets see... well think of a wild stag with his mate... in season. That, is virility."
Long distance to the room: Yi snickers.

Yi does as the theurge suggests. She thinks just of that. And the expression on her face changes to one from confusion, to understanding, and promptly, embarrassment. "Oh." The ragabash smiles at first, and then chuckles, and finally laughs aloud. It's a genuine laugh - let loose like a caged bird. When she finally composes herself she shakes her head. "Well, I suppose it is fitting of them. Fianna, and Alicia being with child." She stands up and brushes herself off then. "Well, thank you for listening to me, Jamethon. Once more, you have taught this fool something new."