ONS: Revel Hunter Hunted
9/1/2007
12:12 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
[Backdated to after moot, which itself is backdated to the full moon night.]
Umbra: Center of the Caern
A subtly spine-vibrating thrum of power issues once again from the once-dead caern, pricking hairs and fur. Slowly but surely, the rejuvinating actions of the Garou have slowly been transforming the recently spiritually dead caern back into something befitting a caern. The caern is once again alive with a variety of spirits, though spirits of war seem a rarity now, and Wendigo spirits are never seen. The caern, visually, falls just short of the wildest rural utopia imaginable. Only hints of the previous pollution remain--slightly less than green grass, young sapling trees where there ought to be mighty oaks and pines--and these are things that, with time and care, should eventually replace what was lost.
The air crackles with tingles of spiritual potency, though it's obvious to Garou who'd witnessed the caern earlier that the caern just isn't quite as powerful and potent as it was before the BSD invasion.
Contents:
Abraxas (Bitter-Harvest), Morgan (Song-of-Luna), Olga (Fat-Ripper), Jacinta (Oncoming Storm), Timothy (Hunter), Kavi (Ringtone)
Obvious exits:
South North West
Oncoming Storm circles the caern, her plodding steps picking up speed as her howl increases and then, abruptly, cuts off. ~Garou of the Hidden Walk! Tonight, we hunt!~ With that, she heads toward the waterfall. Stopping at the edge of the pond, she looks back at the rest. ~An Engling agrees to be our prey, for the strength of the Caern! Come! Hunt!~
Fat-Ripper moves slowly, her bones creaking as she moves towards the reflective pool. Her gait is careful and rolling, and the announcement of the prey brings an appreciative grin to her face, showing off those tea-stained fangs.
Oncoming Storm finds her reflection in the surface of the water, and shortly, her form shimmers and disappears.
As the Garou step through, the thrum of the waterfall spirits is even louder under the potent power of the caern's heart. The light of Luna's full face hanging over them shines brightly down against the Lunes playing and wiggling, leaving trails of sparkling moonlight behind them. Even the grass beneath their paws tickles up against their pads, the ends crackling lightly beneath their clawed feet. A strange anticipation seems to hang in the air, perhaps made so by the grouped clouds of lesser wyldlings floating to and fro along the edge of the caern clearing, where they have been since the waning crescent, and have grown brighter in their shifting colors with the enlarging of the moon. So far, the chosen prey isn't found in ready view of the Garou in the clearing.
Ringtone hurries to follow. His own reaching takes a little longer than some of the others, and is a little more hesitant.
Bitter-Harvest follows swiftly. He's eager, and he makes absolutely no effort to hide this fact. Once he's reached through to the other side, he finds a stone to rake his claws over. He's ready. Oh he's ready.
Fat-Ripper emerges from the other side of the Gauntlet in a coalescing of heavy, metallic looking lights, sluggish and dim. It's graceless but steady, and once she's on the other side she breathes deep of the air. She stares out across the empty stage of the Caern, and sniffing again at the scents the wind spirits bring she waits for their Wyrmfoe to lead them.
Song-of-Luna is a study in nervous energy. She keeps her lower arms up near her ribcage, moving on all fours. While she's waiting for the Wyrmfoe, she can't seem to quite hold still. She keeps shifting her weight from one side to the other, and taking a step only to step back again.
Oncoming Storm lifts her nose to the breeze, and a current of wind skims over her back, ruffling her fur.
The Hunters are greeted with no more ceremony than a pack of wolves on the hunt in a herd of caribou. Spirit noises go quiet, and the wind currents bring the scents of the normal Penumbral caern and forest to them. Curiously, a seemingly heavier breeze continues to brush around the Wendigo Wyrmfoe, tugging at the ahroun's fur and ear hairs before leaping over back to back. It's almost investigative of the other Garou, pulling and ruffling as it swirls about them.
Then, the Wyldlings along the edges of the caern clearing suddenly gather and retreat from view, flowing off towards some unseen direction.
You paged Oncoming Storm with 'Uqenqarkenruk is curious about your 'friends', you could gather, by the spirit's investigation of the other Garou you're with.'.
[Oncoming Storm pages: Any hints about the direction?
You paged Oncoming Storm with 'Seems like up the valley rim, towards the northwest away from the caern center.'.]
Oncoming Storm makes a sound that is almost a whistle, but then she turns to the northwest, nostrils working hard. She gives a gruff bark and leads the way up into the forest at a quick trot.
Fat-Ripper begins to pace, patient but with the edge of the hunt in the fur of her ruff. When the order to move is given, she follows a few paces off, haltingly beginning to assume the same form as their leader.
[Oncoming Storm pages: *Not friends. Septmates. We hunt Engling for the Caern*]
The two metis follow, though at a decided distance from each other. Bitter-Harvest seems quite content to ignore that Song-of-Luna exists, especially in favor of the hunt. Both likewise slide into hispo.
Ringtone follows, a bit behind at first. Then he, too, flows into hispo and catches up with the others quite easily.
As the Garou proceed up and out of the caern clearing, the wind spirit finishes its very cursory investigation and flows up and out of the caern with them. Moving ahead, the Garou can see it undulate like a speeding dolphin in invisible waves until it comes upon the moving clouds of Wyldlings. Their number is impossible to count, but long enough study can reveal general areas of brightness that may delineate where one spirit ends and one begins. The wind spirit dives in amongst them, disappearing. Like a great strobing herd of cloudy prey, the Garou find themselves faced with a fog of evershifting colors that dazzles and confuses the predator mind.
[You paged Oncoming Storm with '*Here here!* claims the wind spirit before it disappears into the group.'.]
Oncoming Storm slows her approach, the Wyldlings bringing her pause. Her eyes narrow and she moves forward again. ~Range out. Pack tactics when the prey is flushed!~
Fat-Ripper is unsure where exactly to go, and the Wyldlings make her more than a little leery. She paces around them slowly for a few steps, before setting out on a wide-arc, to try and fan around the spirits to the reassuring dark colourlessness of the forests behind.
Bitter-Harvest stalks forward. His nose is still, though his eyes are searching in among the Wyldlings for any sign of their target. His teeth bare as he advances, and he snaps at the air.
Like Fat-Ripper, the Glass Walker also seems a bit leery of the Wyldlings, but he follows the Wyrmfoe's orders and moves off to the left, watching and waiting.
Uqenqarkenruk weaves its way through the Wyldlings, eventually spotted again swirling atop a few at a time like a buffalo bird atop the much larger spirit clouds. The longer the Garou circle and watch, the more they spot a few spirits here and there that just don't seem /quite/ as chaotic as the rest. The young Fianna galliard finds one spirit that lags as it shifts colors, while Fat-Ripper and Bitter-Harvest see some of the clouds don't change shape nearly as much as the others. The Wyldlings move again, though they never truly stay still in the first place, again towards the northwest and all at erratic pacings like a shifting herd. The ones spotted float along after the others. Oncoming Storm's wind spirit ally follows with her, hopping from the 'backs' of the Wyldlings and other enigmatic spirits concealed within the group back to the Wendigo Wyrmfoe.
Song-of-Luna's nose twitches as she studies the spirit she found, and she trots along after the it as it moves, trying to keep it in view. Bitter-Harvest too, hones in on the few that he finds, though he's cautious, uncertain.
[You paged Oncoming Storm with '*Spirits there,* responds Uqenqarkenruk, 10 percent unhelpfully, 90 percent playfully.]
Oncoming Storm looks to the others, then snarls out her plan. ~Bitter Harvest! Go between the Wyldlings, find the prey. You others, wait until the prey is flushed or you are called.~ With that, she does exactly what she told the Shadow Lord to do, finding an opening about 150 degrees from Bitter Harvest, and rushes in.
Bitter-Harvest needs no further instruction. He charges into the midst of the Wyldlings, snarling and snapping at the air, and generally making a great deal of noise.
Fat-Ripper stops where she is, bristling, claws digging into the soft ephemera beneath her. She backtracks slightly, and watches the spirits with more anticipation than curiosity. The oddness is noted, but not investigated.
Song-of-Luna continues to pace along the outside edges, still trying to keep track of the slightly off Wyldlings. She too, hangs back as ordered.
Ringtone continues to move around the group, looking for an opening, or for the prey to emerge.
Hunter is up ahead, stalking a dark shadowy path through the woods, senses peeled for the intended target.
The forward rush of the ahrouns scatter some of the spirits, while a few of the Wyldlings in their way simply float a little higher from the hispo reach as they pass beneath. The larger group of Wyldlings is split into smaller as the Garou sent ahead break up the 'herd'. The watching Garou on the outside spot a few incongruities; the flash of a curving line instead of a dissolving one, the more consistent pattern of color shifts in the clouds. Then a few of the slightly smaller spirits that move out of the way shapeshift, assuming the guises of horned and hooved crossbred beasts, their faces like those of snakes but adorned with spiraling and curving horns, their fur patterned as wolves, with wings spanning the size of condors. The chimerlings canter off as one, flapping their wings enough to cause backdrafts that push the Wyldlings aside. The slow-shifting colored cloud Song-of-Luna keeps an eye on also shifts, but to that of a smaller version of the beasts amongst the Wyldlings and Chimerlings, and gets spooked as Oncoming Storm nears close enough. The Engling 'leaps' high over the Fianna galliard's head, too far for her to simply jump up, and lands in a dainty gathering of its pinpoint hooved feet upon the Umbral grass a bit closer to Hunter's scouting path before it takes off again. The rest of the slightly larger Chimerlings also leap after the Engling, five in all.
Song-of-Luna's ears prick with excitement as she watches the Engling soar overhead, and as it lands she lets out a loud, rough bay. ~There, there!~
Oncoming Storm's order comes quickly as she turns to leap after the escaping engling. ~Hunt!~
Bitter-Harvest's claws send Umbral dirt flying as he abruptly shifts directions, dashing at full speed after Oncoming Storm and their prey.
Fat-Ripper's a few seconds slower in responding to the Englings appearance than the others: she watches the Wyldlings cavort, and her gaze is heavy and hard on the Chimerlings after their transformation. Eventually she moves, and when she does it's automatic, strong legs straining to put her bulk quickly into motion.
Ringtone makes a bee-line through the gap in the Wyldlings, chasing after the other Garou and the prey.
Hunter rears up and leaps to a tree on his right, his rage flows as he shifts in mid-air to the crinos form. Powerful arms dig in for just long enough to pull him up and launch him off towards the Engling's path as he melts down once more with speed only possible in the umbra, to the lighter weight and more 'aero-dynamic' lupus form, upside down and muzzle outstretched to snap into the target spirit.
The Chimerling Five flap-gallop after the Engling, followed swiftly by the pack of Garou behind and to the sides of the group. The Engling makes a startled sort of noise as it sees Hunter's mid-air instantaneous shifting, screeching to a halt on its nimble toes and abruptly changing course. The Walker ahroun finds his collision course interrupted not by Engling ephemera, but by a Chimerling whose snake-like, horn adorned head whips about and butts the wolf away and into a bunch of spirit bushes. The spirit itself stumbles off to a side from the heavy impact, and one of its brethren dodges to avoid a second collision whilst keeping up with Engling. The Garou behind fall into a chase, with Oncoming Storm at its forefront, Bitter-Harvest to her left flank, Ringtone on the right and Fat-Ripper and Song-of-Luna taking up the rear in a strung out dash at their own various speeds.
Hunter shakes his head from the impact, a little slower getting to his feet than he would like after being intercepted both by a Chimerling and a bush. Once up though he lets out a low growl and is off on the heels of the group running after the Engling.
Fat-Ripper's pace is steady, though her attention is as much on the Chimerlings apparently thwarting them as on the quarry itself, not to mention the dark Umbral woods and the spirits that inhabit them flanking the Garou on all sides. So while her pace is good, her path is erratic, and she zig-zags through the great trees with no apparent course, trampling bushes and ferns beneath her massive paws.
Oncoming Storm runs full out, all but ignoring the Chimerlings between her and the target. She ranges out to the right, and grunts to Abraxas to do the same on the other side. She doesn't say anything to the Glass Walker, using her body to force him to follow. Those behind are instructed to keep to the heels of the prey, straight on.
Bitter-Harvest chuffs an acknowledgment as he breaks from Oncoming Storm, ranging left and pushing himself to even greater speeds. Song-of-Luna darts straight on, though her too short extra legs are clearly starting to annoy her, and she even snaps at one of them, as if it had a mind of its own and were doing this on purpose.
Hunter isn't the only one who has to catch up, but also the Chimerling he'd caused to stumble. The spirit hiss-snorts and regains its balance none too soon, leaping on after the Walker ahroun with a mixed squeak-squeal-roar that sounds completely alien. He finds the Chimerling bearing down on him, those sharp cloven hoofs kicking out and just missing his tail as he runs. Like wolves pursuing a herd in attempt to pick out the smallest one of the bunch. The Engling bolts ahead through the forest of purple trees, shifting left along parallel paths with Bitter-Harvest. The Chimerlings are notably not as quick; either that, or they purposefully fall behind and allow the Garou to catch up just slightly. It might be noted, the night is getting much darker and more red in hue.
Oncoming Storm cuts the corner, turning to keep with the Engling, and pulling out a burst of speed.
Bitter-Harvest snaps in the Engling's direction, trying to keep level with it, so as not to let it pass him by and continue left, and perhaps to send it fleeing into Oncoming Storm's grasp.
Ringtone turns with the leader, racing to keep up with her and keep the target in sight.
Song-of-Luna leaves off worrying about her extra legs as she, too, turns with the hunt, ears laying flat against her skull as she runs.
Fat-Ripper rather unhappily forces herself to pay attention, to follow the Wyrmfoe's commands directly. No longer does she weave or allow the Chimerlings to distract her as they fall alongside; instead she just focuses on the Engling's heels, following its path. As such she has no mind for the Glas Walker's predicament.
Hunter growls as he /feels/ the spirit behind him and lets it spur him on. He puts on speed while giving chuffs and barks, ~Come on! Lets go!~ As if the Chimerling was more running companion than predator.
With a squeaking hiss similar to that of its larger Chimerling cousins, the Engling dodges from Bitter-Harvest's snap as expected, making a sudden zigzag back towards Oncoming Storm and leaping up into the air. Along with the Engling, a pair of Chimerlings launch up after it, great wings opening out and flapping strongly to send washes of swirling air around them. The chase takes to the air. Of the Chimerlings that drop back, three in all including the one behind Hunter, two draw up alongside Song-of-Luna and Fat-Ripper, running beside them. They eye the Bone Gnawer for a moment with slitted serpentine eyes, sending an almost unnerving, evaluating feel with their gazes. One of them unpredictably turns afterwards, kicking at Song-of-Luna with a sharp hoof to drive her further from the theurge's side, almost encouraging her through bullying to give up the chase.
Oncoming Storm's eyes narrow, and as she runs she gathers her legs under her to leap upward, attempting to swat the Engling to the ground.
Bitter-Harvest springs after the Engling, though as he sees Oncoming Storm's leap, he twists again, making sure he's out of the way when she comes down. Possibly recent memories of a baseball bat inspire this particular caution.
Just behind the Wyrmfoe, Ringtone watches as the prey takes to the air, snarling his frustration. He keeps pace, and keeps his eye on the target.
Song-of-Luna yelps in surprise as she's kicked, though she returns with a bite of her own, shoving back with the shoulder nearest the Chimerling in a display of peevish temper. They're not supposed to attack /her/, harumph.
Hunter comes up on the left side of the Chimerling harassing Song-of-Luna, and simply brushes his muzzle on the side of the spirit as he passes on his way towards the main target.
Fat-Ripper looks back at the Chimerling: there's nervousness in her fur, and she has to keep glancing ahead to make sure she doesn't barrel into a tree, but she returns the stare in full measure when she can. ~I have a riddle for you,~ she offers it, drily. ~If you can guess it, I'll give up the chase. If you can't, you have to leave us be.~ She looks up ahead after she's spoken, pouring on the speed to make up for lost ground.
What part of the chase taking to the air is short-lived, as Oncoming Storm's leap and swat knocks against one of the wings of the Engling. It is accompanied by a strong buffet of wind, as Uqenqarkenruk tips the spirit end over end to send it crashing groundwards closest to Bitter-Harvest. The span of time to make a move isn't enough, however, as the warding Chimerlings also adjust and land beside the smaller cousin and lower their heads, shaking and clacking horns together against each other in a defensive display.
The Chimerling's response to Fat-Ripper's riddle is answered with a hissing snort and continued run alongside her. The one beside Song-of-Luna suddenly stumbles as Hunter brushes it, causing the spirit to crash right into the Fianna metis and taking her down with it in a tangle of horn, hoof, and multiple limbs. The Chimerling chasing after Hunter gets close enough to headbutt him again, but this time the horns catch against the Walker's moving limbs and jerks him aside, goring a rather deep gash against his left hind leg in the process and slowing him down.
[You paged Fat-Ripper with 'You can sense agreement to such a deal from the Chimerling you've asked.'.]
Oncoming Storm circles and snaps, half-darting toward the protected Engling before backing off agian, trying to draw the Chimerlings away from their post. ~Pack Tactics!~ she growls, expecting the others to follow suit.
Song-of-Luna gives a series of surprised yelps as she goes down, kicking and squirming to try and free herself from the Chimerling. The chase itself is momentarily forgotten--she just wants to get out from under the spirit.
Fat-Ripper looks straight ahead, falling silent, though her pace has slowed and for a few long seconds at least her head's not really in the game, as she composes her riddle. She gets it out between hard pants: ~I'm always hungry, but always full,~ she chokes out while dodging oncoming trees and brush and bystanding spirits. ~I do not move, but am never still,~ she explains, going on, looking ahead, taking a few seconds for the final piece. ~I'm wet, and deadly, and pull and pull.~ She huffs forward, picking up her pace again. She looks at the Chimerling with a flash of challenge in her eyes, to ask ~What am I?~
Bitter-Harvest pulls back as Oncoming Storm lunges, and as she pulls back, he darts in from the other side, snarling and biting, his serpentine tongue quite evident. Like her, it's a feint, and he draws back again.
Hunter roars out and takes on the bulk of the hispo now to shrug off the horns of the chimerling, with a snarl he is barreling forward, adjusting he is taking a path straight down the middle now, between Oncoming Storm on the one side, and Bitter-Harvest on the other. The massive Hispo Glass Walker looks back just briefly enough to make sure the spirit is on his tail and his eyes shoot forward at the group of Chimerlings ahead, his lupine muzzle suddenly all grinning fangs.
Ringtone closes in as quickly as he can. His long strides cover ground quickly and he makes every step count.
The pair of Chimerlings guarding the Engling back close to it, while the Engling takes time to rise, pushed down by the spirit of wind seemingly bouncing atop it. The more imminent threat of multiple Garou is addressed rather than starting up the chase again. Oncoming Storm's lure doesn't quite work in drawing the Chimerlings away from their charge, but she does luckily dodge a horn before it gouges her eye. Bitter-Harvest's tongue elicits a responsive hissing growl from the Chimerling on the other side, its own long forked tongue flicking out and curling at him as if in daring mockery, little dual tips wiggling. Ringtone and Hunter soon catch up to the pair of Garou, but behind the injured ahroun Walker runs the Chimerling whose horns scrape for, but miss, the hispo's backside.
Song-of-Luna and the other Chimerling struggle to free themselves from each other. At least, that's what the Fianna tries to do, but she soon finds herself not in the hoof and horn of the spirit in a chimerical version of prey, but in the coils of furred and multi-winged serpentine spirit with the face of deer and no legs at all. It binds her extra limbs up, snaring around her waist and legs. The Chimerling beside Fat-Ripper takes its own time to consider its answer, dodging around trees and bush with no trouble as they go. Its own tongue slips forth as it hisses its answer in the spirit's tongue at her.
[You paged Fat-Ripper with '*Clever, clever moon, your riddle is a surprise, for I may not have seen such a thing before my eyes. Moon soon falls dark in the Shadow though its light is full, but tell me if I guess right: Your thing is a whirlpool?*'.]
Oncoming Storm continues her feint and dodge tactics as the other Garou arrive, circling in hopes of creating an opening for one of the others. She growls, low and deep, her attention focused on the prey, now, and assuming that the others will do their part.
Bitter-Harvest seems particularly annoyed by that mocking display, and the next time he feints inward, he turns and aims a heavy paw for the face of the Chimerling with the forked tongue.
Hunter is /just/ slow enough to keep his rump the only real concern in the Chimerling's field of view, he snarls and snaps with his teeth, showing annoyance at the one chasing him. When he is upon the circle of Chimerlings guarding the Engling, he presses more speed into his gait, then balls up for a sudden leap, going for maximum height above the horns of the Chimerlings, hoping that his forward momentum will deal with surpassing them horizontally and the chasing Chimerling was focused enough on him to not be able to do much more but go crashing into it's buddies.
Ringtone joins the circling pair, just outside of their path. He watches, guaging, assessing, and then suddenly, with a burst of speed born of rage, darts toward the center.
Song-of-Luna's yelps are intermingled with snarls of spooked and frustrated anger. She abandons the hispo form abruptly, shifting upward into her birth form to claw and bite at the imprisoning spirit.
Fat-Ripper's frustration doesn't quite make its way to full profanity. At first the Theurge says nothing, but her pace begins to drop off, no intiative or energy any longer in her steps. She calls out, before she is lost completely to the darkness, ~I am sorry Wyrmfoe, but I've lost, and must leave your hunt.~ Her voice is embarassed and frustrated, her apology strung through with Rage. She howls out her angry and apologetic good luck wish, before she begins to lope through the great forest, back towards the Caern.
The Umbral night grows even darker, the forest around slowly assuming a guise of deep red and ominous black. The Garou feinting and Chimerlings defending the Engling engage in an almost ritualistic dance of predator and prey, with a few exceptions. Hunter's leap takes him sailing over tops of the Chimerlings dealing with Bitter-Harvest and Oncoming Storm, but the Chimerling behind him proves no less capable of keeping up. It swerves sharply to a side as it nearly collides into the defensive herd, and in the process of doing so Ringtone's dart inwards to the center is thwarted. Oncoming Storm's Chimerling stomps its forefoot and hisses intimidatingly at her like an angered alien cougar, but her feints have it thoroughly distracted. Bitter-Harvest's paw slaps the snake-like visage of his mocker and elicits a countering forward lunge at the ahroun, where a sharp kick delivers a light gash to his muzzle for his trouble. On the plus side, there's an opening for just those few seconds as Bitter-Harvest's Chimerling tries to follow up with a goring horn and misses.
The pair of Chimerlings in the back, one satisfied with Fat-Ripper's retreat, looks to its brother who has shapeshifted and has Song-of-Luna in its coils. The Fianna metis' attack slashes at the furry body holding her and rips a section of ephemera off. She's freed shortly as the spirit gives a growl of displeasure.
Song-of-Luna springs away from her captor, though she almost immediately turns to face it as she backs away in the direction of the hunt, clearly wary about taking her eyes off of this particular spirit.
Bitter-Harvest blurs upward into his birth form and grabs immediately for the goring horn, intent on dragging the Chimerling forward and keeping the opening there for just that much longer.
Oncoming Storm snarls at Hunter, rage building inside her. Anger takes hold and she snaps at the leg of the nearest Chimerling, huge paws swiping at it's shoulder.
Ringtone snarls frustration at his thwarted attempt and circles again, trying to sneak in through the opening created by Abraxas.
Hunter twists in the air and as he lands turns quickly to come back on the circle of Chimerlings, bluring up to the Crinos. He comes up on Bitter-Harvest's side not thinking to make it into the circle himself, but instead swiping at the spirit next to the one he has grabbed at, attempting to widen that hole.
In the fray, Bitter-Harvest's upward shift and grab nets him a stomping Chimerling that attempts to free itself from the hold. It attempts to do so, by rushing forward at the crinos and developing a bumpy, ridged set of scales on its head to push the ahroun back. Hunter's Chimerling that joined the trio, seeming torn between defending against Ringtone or against Hunter, opts to deal with the shifting Walker ahroun almost intent on finishing what was started the way here. That leaves Oncoming Storm to deal with the last of the trio around the Engling, whose leg lifts high and away so she doesn't snap her massive jaws around it, at the sacrifice of a few claws into its shoulder. It counters with a rear up and strike out of its sharp hooves, but the impact doesn't cut the white hispo at all. Ringtone, left free of defenders, finds himself an opening and his forward dart snags a flailing wing from the Engling as it attempts to fight off the wind spirit that continues to keep it in the area by disrupting the air about.
Though Song-of-Luna keeps an eye on the two remaining Chimerlings behind, those two spirits do nothing to come forward and join the fight. They instead look on, watching her as much as she watches them. The one Chimerling who won the riddle contest with Olga cranes its head upwards, peering towards the ever darkening sky.
Song-of-Luna flicks her ears back, and follows that Chimerling's glance upward. Her nose twitches for a moment, and then she turns, darting as fast as she can on all fours to rejoin the Revel pack.
Bitter-Harvest bares his teeth, clinging gamely to the horn he's snagged. He allows himself to be pushed back so long as the Chimerling comes with, though he's not at all above snapping and kicking at the spirit to keep it occupied.
Oncoming Storm rears up, matching the Chimerling as her claws and teeth continue to reach for shoulders and neck. She growls, but the sound carries no meaning.
Hunter makes a feint forward, just close enough to draw an attempt at attacking him. Following Abraxas' lead, he uses this to attempt to grab at the horns of the creature and keep it fully occupied.
Ringtone bites down, holding the engling as well as he can, claws reaching out to rip at the spirit's flesh.
The sky in the Umbra plunges into a red tinted darkness, followed by a high pitched keening noise just as Song-of-Luna is able to reach the group. The noise originates from the almost see-through Engling, though whether the Engling's is due to Ringtone's claws slashing into its ephemeral self or otherwise is yet to be noted. The Chimerlings hiss and growl with alien noises as they are attacked, but then they gradually cease their struggles. It's an eerie pause to the ritual of the hunt. Each of the ahrouns holding their Chimerlings by the horns, the beast-spirits make no fuss. Even Uqenqarkenruk, though it doesn't exactly pause, lifts into the air and slowly swirls over the heads of the Garou with a soft whistle made by its travels.
Song-of-Luna lays her ears flat as she darts toward the group, lunging with teeth and claws at the Engling once she's within range. The fur all along her spine is prickling, however, and if there were actually time to observe, it would be obvious she's feeling very dubious.
Oncoming Storm tenses as the sky goes dark red, having been too involved in her battle to notice before, and the Chimerlings seem to slow. She takes just a fragment of a second to glance at the sky, too wary to take her entire attention from her current foe.
Hunter continues to hold on to the spirit's horns and shoots a glance to Bitter-Harvest then Oncoming Storm, then he lets his senses swivel and carry over the dark Umbral forest for signs of unwelcome guests.
Bitter-Harvest too, turns his eyes to the forest, though his grip on the spirit remains.
Ringtone clamps down all the harder on the Engling. Though his hackles rise at the change in the sky and the behavior of the target, he doesn't stop his attack and his claws swipe out again.
Uqenqarkenruk's never-still form continues to swirl around the heads of the Garou. The Chimerlings in the hands of the Garou gradually shift their forms again as one, horns dissolving in respective grips and becoming instead the shimmering clouds of lights they were before - dimmer though, and somehow unable to counteract the red that covers the Shadow around the group. The Engling struggles like a bird in a cat's paws, held in place, struck at by both galliards Fianna and Walker. The Garou who wait and look skyward can spot a meteor shower-like occurrence, like the stars themselves decided to shift positions and fall through the sky at their rapid paces. Screened by the massive trees, though, they see not where the stars head. The Engling keens again, slowly kneeling under the combined weight of the Garou atop it, accepting its sacrificial fate.
Oncoming Storm drops back to all fours and leaps forward. ~The Hunt is Ended! The Feast is now!~
Bitter-Harvest growls and lunges, following Oncoming Storm's lead.
With the call from the Wyrmfoe, Ringtone places his forepaws against the spirit's side and rips at the wing.
Song-of-Luna pulls back from the Engling as the others come forward. She keeps glancing upward, and her tail sweeps against the back of her legs. ~What is that?~
Hunter looks to the sky as his foe fades from anything tangible and truly becomes transfixed, mouth agape until Oncoming Storm speaks and he sets in for his 'piece' of the Engling.
The Engling dies in a slow fade away, its essence spreading out in a faintly glowing pool of ephemera available for the Garou to take up with their own spirits back to replenish the caern. The sky begins to lighten as they do this, returning to a more normal light where Luna's full eye returns and bolsters the Garou below, their view of the forest's trees much clearer when the light returns, though it's still tinted red by Anthelios' baleful gaze.
Oncoming Storm 'eats' her share of the Gnosis, then steps back as the others take part. When all have fed, she leads the way back to the center, disgorging the excess to recharge caern.
Song-of-Luna slips forward to take her share, though she's very clearly distracted, darting quick, worried glances upward even when Luna returns.
Ringtone seems less aware of the differences than some of the others, though it does take a while for his hackles to lower. After he returns and also looses the Gnosis to the caern, he lowers his head to the Wyrmfoe, thanking her for leading them successfully. Then he turns away, seeking his reflection again in the water of the pool. It takes several seconds before his form shimmers and disappears.
As the Garou return to the caern, a peculiar phenomenon also greets them. The Wyldlings that were present have all disappeared, leaving the caern clearing clear and open. Not a cloud of chaotic energy is seen patrolling the outskirts, though there lingers an electric feel of that Wyld-ness, one that tickles at the inner spirit of all who pass through. Once the Gnosis is fed back to the caern, all seems to radiate with renewed energy and satisfaction. Uqenqarkenruk, Oncoming Storm's ally, goes back to its brethren amongst the area known to the Garou as part of the spot where the wind plays, tumbling and swirling with abandon. Over the heads of the Garou, a lone raven spirit gruks seemingly in announcement of the Revelers returning, and then flies off eastwards towards the shining mountains, east towards where the sun rises.
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