Kristin Fears-Pain's Rite of Passage
PART 1 - The Meaning of Being Garou
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (44% full).
It is currently 19:18 Pacific Time on Mon Apr 23 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 64 degrees Fahrenheit (17 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the west at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.17 and falling, and the relative humidity is 41 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)
[At The Steam Vents]
Helios continues on his fiery path through the sky, nearing the end of today's journey with each passing minute. The cast of the sky turns a paler, grayer blue as the temperatures outside start to fall for night time lows. While it is still light out, however, there is plenty of daylight left for activities in the caern still. Yi quietly preps a concoction of mud paste of sorts in a wooden bowl, by the steam vents a ways from the caern's heart. She hums a melody, random almost, in time with some inner rhythm as she steps about.
Steam vents. Making her way through the steamy heart of the Caern, Kristin paused. She closed her eyes and let her ears listen to the sound of anything else out there.
The humming pauses as well, when a vent shoots up a hiss of steam to punctuate the Gnawer fostern's note. It's only a few moments before the song resumes, as does the steady grind of the rock that functions as a pestle. With her back turned to the cub, Yi doesn't take note of any spectators about just yet.
Walking slowly, Kristin smiles. "Hello." her voice was quiet, the Gaian cub exhales lightly almost inperceptibly, the sound of the song leads the cub right to the Fostern and she quietly looks around. "So... what am I to do?"
To Yi's credit, her concentration doesn't break. "That is a good question. One that I ask myself every day." She gestures towards an errant looking, smoother spot away from the immediate dangers of the piping hot vents. "Has Stacey told you of what you will be doing?"
Kristin shakes her head. "Not at all. Only that I was to come." she admits. "That was it. I was to come to Caern. That was all of the message, so I came. It had to be important since she mentions the Caern. I had to track by scent to make it here." she tells the fostern.
"I should hope you are able to find your way onto the bawn with your eyes closed," Yi replies with a short, teasing smile. "Stand there." She indicates the spot, and then picks up a second bowl to dump its contents into the one she was grinding. "While I do this... tell me about who you are, Kristin."
Kristin walks to the spot slowly, and turns around. "Who I am? I'm Kristin Hunt, a former human, but offically a Garou, A Child of Gaia, A Cub, a Healer by nature, a warrior as a last resort. A caretaker, a dreamer, a hopeful person." she begins, pausing to make sure that is what is wanted.
"A 'former' human? 'Officially' a Garou?" Yi echoes the cub's words, glancing up from her paste grinding. "Hm." The fostern strides over with her bowl of strongly scented mud. "Anything else?"
Kristin ums. "Well I figured, that became apart of me when I found out I was a Garou. Anything else... um... what else to say about myself? I don't know... what else to call myself."
Giving a short laugh and a shake of her head, Yi lets the uncertainty hang there on purpose. "Cub, it is okay to be nervous. This is your Rite of Passage, after all. I am the ritemaster, as your elder has asked me to perform this rite that will send you on your journey of self discovery. I will not be able to aid you any more than you can aid yourself. Stand still now." And with those words, the Gnawer fostern shifts up to her Crinos form. The bowl in her hands suddenly seems rather small in comparison.
Kristin doesn't flinch, but the she-cub. Exhales, her eyes closing in focus, as she tries to think on what she knows. On what she's learned. "Alright." she breaths, the word as if to draw on something... some other part of her self that newly awaked Garou who's just learning her way perhaps?
Bringing her knuckle forward in a slight nudge, the Gnawer rumbles. ~Open up your eyes and tell me your name given to you as a cub. What was it?~ Runs-the-Gauntlet dips a claw into the muddy paste, scooping some out and brings forth her taloned fingers to draw on the girl's face.
Kristin exhales, as she watches the claws draw nearer to her flesh as a human she was brittle, breakable... a naked wolf. "Fears-Pain." she intoned the name with a bit of a twinge embarassment.
Now, Runner gains a solemn, ritualistic air about her. ~Fears-Pain,~ she repeats in a rumble of the Garou Tongue. Upon the left cheek of the girl's face, she begins to draw the glyph for her auspice of Theurge. ~What does it mean to be a Theurge? We are all listening.~
We? Did she mean spirits too? She exhales softly before begining to speak. Her dark eyes opening slowly as she looked straight a head, as she she was going to attempt to view something just beyond normal viewing. "A Healer, a protector. A Voice for the spirits, a Voice for the Garou. A Voice for Gaia herself."
The paste is cool to the touch, but it warmed by the mineral ridden mud from the steam vents. It clings to the girl's face, but at the same time isn't clumpy. ~And what, then, does it mean to be a Garou?~ The Gnawer fostern next moves to the right cheek, writing there with the mud and claw, the cub's name in the Garou Tongue.
Kristin focuses her eyes straight a head narrowing them. "To be a garou means to be a protector of Gaia, of the Earth herself, of all her creatures, except for those of the Wyrm-which we are to defeat, even though they are Gaia's creatures and have been corrupted, to bring the Weaver back into balance. To bring balance and maintain that balance which we have brought." She doesn't smile, the cub bearly makes and facial movements as she thinks.
And finally the glyph of the cub's supposed tribe, the Children of Gaia, is carefully painted out with a fresh glop of mud upon her forehead. ~What will it mean to you, to be part of the tribe - the Children of Gaia?~ Runner finishes the glyph, a C-like shape with an arch beneath, and four lines below.
Eyes finally closing all the way, Kristin's voice seems to strength perhaps. "It will mean doing my duty, to the best of my ability. Be the voice of the Earth and Garou,call for peace where there is only fighting. To be what is required of me when and where it is needed. No matter what the task." She almost bites her lip as if the answer could be wrong. But there were no wrong answers in this kind of 'test', were there?
Finally, the claws move away from the cub's face and the Gnawer turns to set the bowl down. When she turns back, it is with another wooden bowl. This one is much smaller, and filled with a shotglass worth of some thick, brackish liquid that smells both medicinal and absolutely unappealing. The small sprig of mint that floats atop it seems like an afterthought to try and spice up the foul drink and make it try to seem more presentable as something to be consumed. ~Fears-Pain, a cub who wishes to join the Children of Gaia. A cub who wishes to join the Garou in our lives, our fight. Drink.~
Kristin nods. She inhales, and then well holds her breath, perhaps it was better not smell what was being drunk. She drinks the liquid slowly, as if her mind were trying to work out what the ingridents were. She swallows, but tires not to make a face, the last thing she needed was to have spirits making comments about her, when she couldn't yet understand them.
As bad as it smells, it's even worse going down. It takes everything not to retch the moment the drink slips, like a slug's slimy bottom, down the slide of her esophagus. Now Runner affords a smile, made feral by the rows of fangs of her crinos muzzle. ~Good luck, Fears-Pain. May you return to us with wisdom to share.~ The scarred ragabash steps forward, arms opening to draw the cub into a tight hug.
Eww.. yuck... Kristin struggled. She wasn't going to retch, and she knew she must not vomit. She wrinkled her nose, telling herself to keep it down. She nodded slowly. She waited. Was something supposed to happen? She ran through the small check list of what the drink could actually have been, probably some kind of plant with hallucenogenic qualities.
And as she wonders about which plants those might be, the world is enveloped in a haze. There was definitely drugs in that concoction, but what it was exactly she might never know. The hug from Yi stays steady, providing a constant even as the energy in the cub ebbs away. As the dwindling daylight fades towards sunset blackness, so does consciousness turn. The feeling of warmth spreads out from the belly to all of the cub's limbs, wrapping her in as gentle an embrace as the Gnawer ragabash. Sleep overtakes the rest of her faraway thoughts.
A single thought, though fleeting crosses the cub's mind as she slips into a sleep. It didn't make much sense, the thought, it was hazy and incoherent but as dying daylight caught her eyes before she closed, Kristin realized the power behind the drink, to make her sleep. Her breathing slowed, and shallowed as she drifted towards sleep.
"May you return to us with wisdom to share," echoes Yi as she slowly reverts to breed form, clutching the sleeping cub in her arms as a support. "... or not return at all," she adds quietly, her face twisting into a pained expression at the thought of such dark, but real words.
PART 2 - The Dream Realm Reveals
It is height of spring, and this year the village's orchards look to be healthy and strong, having survived the winter. As you wake to a new day to begin your duties as the new young nurse, you know that all the girls in the village envy you your position. The doctor you are serving is quite a looker, smart and handsome to boot, with dark eyes and darker hair. He's been the apple of every eye, including yours. But like the rest of the village too, you also know that spring holds little comfort at night when the moon comes close to the earth. Everyone in the village knows about Them. The werewolves' howls and snarls, you remember their calls baying into the night. Terrified moments spent huddled in the heavy shelter beneath the trap door of your house, hoping they wouldn't discover you. Yesterday, you heard their howling in the forests beyond the village. It's not safe. But it's also all you've ever known. Today you are simply Kristin Hunt, nurse and assistant to Dr. Zayne.
Sitting, leaning intowards her desk, and quietly reading through a book, Kristin looks up, she shivers, not because she's cold but because of the moon. She could feel it's closeness. She inhaled deeply, and the closes her book, she looks up, what was there for her to do? They were out there...
The moon will be full tonight. The sun is already on its way down and it won't be safe to travel at night. But as the quiet lingers on, thoughts turn again towards the fear. Fear, and curiosity drive on. The werewolves will come, and more people from the village will disappear. No doubt, they will be killed and eaten by these werewolves. There's nothing you can do, but hide. "Kristin? Kristin," calls Dr. Zayne. The man stands at the doorway, his bright, intelligent eyes shining in the flickering candlelight. "I need you to make sure that Mr. Bramson and Ms. Serway are tucked in for the night." Mr. Bramson's leg had been sliced open by the inexperienced scythe of his young son. He considered it fortunate, because at least it meant his son would have learn by himself how to handle that tool in the fields. By himself. Not a very affectionate man, Mr. Bramson, but he does a good job with tending the grains. Ms. Serway on the other hand, simply came to the hospital pretending to be sick so she could see the doctor. She's been doing that a lot lately, but for now it seems like she perpetually hangs around the healer's inn. Her father doesn't see the harm in it either, busy as he is out in the fields as well. "You'll be all right here by yourself, right?" asks the doctor.
Kristin nods, slowly. "I will be, Doctor." she whispers. A small smile. She'll be alright, as long as 'those wolves' didn't come for her, or hurt her patients. She nods. "I will be fine doctor." she repeats herself as she stands to make her way into the room with the patients. She blinks, and puts her hand to her head. She looked back towards the door, full moon she could feel it. The shelter, she wanted to be there, but... no... she needed to with her patients. To run and leave them would... it wouldn't be right.
Nodding in satisfaction, Zayne turns to leave. "Oh and remember, no matter what happens, don't open the door for anyone past sundown." The warning is filled with ominous portent and worry. The doctor does his best to appear calm about it, but he's as terrified as the rest of the village of these monsters. He bites his lip and chews on it for little bit longer, lingering in the shelter of the inn's threshold, before slipping out. Time passes on and thoughts of those werewolves out there intrude with the fear. The sudden clanging of the bells that signal the night has begun sound.
Raising her head from her daydream, Kristin stands up and begins to make her rounds checking on both Mr.Bamson and Ms. Serway, though the later she glares ar most of the time, "You know, feigning to be sick is the least direct way to get his attention." she tells the woman. "Being a nurse is so much better."
Ms. Serway cracks an eye open from her comfortable bed. That same eye rolls with sarcasm, as does her tone. "I get /plenty/ of his attention this way," she fires back with a nasal twang. "You? He makes /you/ work." And it's true - every little thing, Dr. Zayne asks you to do save the complicated things. Like stitching up Mr. Bramson's leg. "Anyway, all I have to do is lie back and w--" Ms. Serway's words cut off as a lone howl of a wolf breaks the quiet of the night. All the confidence of her haughty demeanor drains with the color of her face. Her hands clutch the blanket over her, drawing up the flimsy covering past her mouth. Fearfilled eyes flick to the windows. "C-c-close it!"
Kristin sighs. She walks to the window. "Yes, Ma'am." she says pleasantly, almost a smirk. She wasn't exactly a afraid of the howls, if anything she enjoyed them. She could hear them.. almost understand them... She smiled. "He makes me work, but I enjoy every ounce of that work. And you know you're not getting the right kind of attention from Dr. Zayne. He sees you as a patient and nothing more." she closes the window firmly. Inhaling deepling in long steady breaths.
Hauntingly beautiful as those howls might seem, they hold nothing but death. These werewolves come and kill villagers. Those caught outside at night when they come are as good as dead. "What are you so smug about?" demands Ms. Serway, catching that insolence despite the pleasantry. "Someone's going to die tonight, Kristin. Someone always dies!" Ms. Serway's worried eyes then turn towards the door of the small inn. The door through which Dr. Zayne left is still unlocked. "I hope he's made it back to his home in time." The howl stops, fading into the distance. For a long moment of silence, fear hangs in the air. "Those monsters won't ever stop," whimpers Ms. Serway, her words muffled by the blankets.
Kristin nods. "I know. But you have to wonder why?" she walks to the door. "I'll be back I'm going to go and lock the door." she says quietly. She walks towards the front door leaving the woman to whimper in her fear. She has a job to do, lock the door, and then return.
The door's lock clicks. Before being able to return, however, a chorus of howls sounds from the outside of the building. They've come. A shriek of terror from Ms. Serway pierces the air, and the woman dives into her blankets, sobbing and praying. That seems like the most logical course of action for her. You too, feel the chill of those calls deep in the pit of your stomach. A low "shut your mouth before they hear you" snaps Mr. Bramson on the second bed, awake now that the werewolves have come and just as afraid. "Hey nurse. Put out that light," he adds with a nod towards the lone candle.
Kristin nods. She nearly freezes; terror, fear...perhaps even a bit of knowing hangs in her soul as she crosses the room and blows the candle out. She swallows. "No one will die." she whispers to herself, reaching for something, anything. "No one is going to die, not while I can do something about it." She walked back to the door, and stood there, several feet away from it, waiting, watch, she didn't know what she would do... but she knew thatas the nurse, she had to protect those she'd been put in charge of. She glanced...something to hold them off with... not much.
Blowing out the candle leaves the group in the dark, but there's some moonlight shining through the cracks of the thick wooden shutters. The readily available defensive tools are naught but the books she was reading and the chair she'd been sitting in. And really, knowing these beasts, their strength is terrible. Not even the strongest man in the village could stand up to them - Conrad had tried. His ribcage had been found the following morning. "They're going to come. They're going to eat us. They're going to come..." Ms. Serway rocks back and forth in her bed, staring at the dark, not even stopping when Mr. Bramson tells her to stop fidgeting and making so much noise on the squeaky frame. Then suddenly, the rapid sound of pounding at the locked front door booms into the small inn. "Kristin! Kristin, let me in! Hurry!" It's the doctor's voice, panicked and in a rush. "Kristin, hurry!" The chorus of howls that had died off sound again, a little more distanced but closing in.
[You paged the room with 'As you hear the howls this time, you can sort of understand them. They're communicative howls, telling of where the prey has been sighted. And they're converging in.'.]
She glances, back towards the room with the patients. A trick perhaps, no there's too much realness in the voice, in the terror inhabiting Dr. Zayne's voice. She walks to the door, the last thing she wanted to do was let the werewolves in there, but to leave Dr. Zayne to die? Kristin shook her head "Mr. Bramson, can you stand? I need you to help me with something?" she asks. She looks at the desk she'd been sitting it, a good door barrier. "If you would Mr. Bramson, can you upend it, and turn it into the a barrade. I'm going to open the door, enough to let the doctor in, but I need you to use that to keep it from opening an farther." she says. The young woman tries to focus, those howls... she exhaled, prey... sight... it was all she could catch.
The pounding grows more fervent. "Hurry up!" cries Dr. Zayne, fear as genuine as it can be. He's going at the barrier with both fists. Mr. Bramson squints in the darkness, and with a low grunt of effort he starts to stand. With his leg wrapped up, though, movement for him is excrutiatingly slow and painful. "KRISTIN!" The howls and snarls get even closer, until they're so loud it sounds like they've surrounded the small inn. ~Over here!~ ~Puny human! Die!~ Somehow, you can understand the bits and pieces. A blood curdling scream a little further off sends its definitive message. Someone's been caught. But the doctor is still alive, still pounding at the door. It doesn't stop rapping, but just as Mr. Bramson reaches the desk, suddenly Ms. Serway flings the blankets off and charges forward to knock into the man. "Don't do it! You'll kill us all!" she wails at him.
Kristin inhales. She holds her fingers against her chest. "Mr. Bramson." she barks. She twitches, she could understand the sounds the others could not. But she could just allow the Doctor to be killed. "Doctor, ready?" she asks softly to the man outside. She waited for the bigger man to tip and positiion the desk. She placed her hand on the door. "Just enough to let Dr. Zayne in." she re-iterates. She tells him.
The fear pounds hard in the hearts of all. Mr. Bramson, unfortunately, is tied up with fighting against Ms. Serway for control in the darkness while Dr. Zayne pounds hard enough to wake the dead. "Just open it!" pleas the doctor, "PLEASE! Oh God!" Suddenly the heavy thuds of multiple footsteps comes on the tail of a multitude of wolven snarls. The pounding stops outside. A howl sounds so close that it must be right outside the door. The terrifying call stops both Mr. Bramson and Ms. Serway's tussle to a dead halt, and tension hangs thick in the air. None of them dare to breathe.
Kristin growls. She Tenses. "I'm going out here, once I'm out...baracade the door. THey want me, and I'm not risking your lives. You have families to go home to... I don't." she whispers. It was true, the girl had wandered into the village nearly ten years ago, speaking another language, but possesing such a kind and gentle nature the people of the village had felt compelled to get the child off the streets before her innocence became stained by working at a brothel. She placed her hand on the door. Preparing to open it, to go outside where the wolves were.
Caught in the dark, the two patients of the healer's inn don't budge a millimeter to stop Kristin at all. The door opening meets resistance, as it opens outward. The doctor, still alive, stands in shock at the sight of glinting round pupils. The crinos - which somewhere deep within your human psyche you remember the name of the form - number only three. But three Garou in their form of war is terrifying enough against a measly human, or even a pair of humans. The door opening isn't expected, but it draws their attention. ~A foolish one!~ snaps the right side crinos. ~More for the culling,~ growls the one on the left. Only the one in the middle remains utterly silent and still, staring at doctor and nurse. It looks as if deciding which one to kill first.
Kristin steps out closer. "Doctor.. inside now." she hisses. She inhales. A deeper part of her wanted to howl... to run, to shed the human shell that held it contrained.. even the simple sight of the three large beasts, while it started her at first... it made her remeber something more.... from her childhood, those beasts... those... wolf-beings... she could feel it. "Inside doctor." she barks firmly. She wanted... she could feel a tugging in her inside of her body. She wanted to answer it's call, to howl,hunt and run... but she couldn't feel it... not quite yet... the human next to her was too much of threat... she cared about him, but for him to see her like... that... no. She would let it happen.
The doctor, much like the two inside, suddenly is just too paralyzed to move. His eyes catch upon the middle crinos' like a bird in the coils of a snake. That instinct tugging brings up even more memories in rapid succession. Incoherent flashes they are, but the feel of the hunt, the call of the wild so to speak, echoes inside like the howls of the wolves at night. These Garou, muzzles covered in the blood of their prey - humans - nevertheless show no mercy. The middle one, alpha of the pack it would seem, evaluates a little longer before utters just one growled command. ~Kill the males.~ The two large crinos on either side spring into action, leaping forward with claws flashing and blurring in the moonlight. There's a muffled scream as the doctor is seized by his head and shoulders, dragged away.
Kristin blinks. Kristin bearly saw the moment, bearly responded. All she could remeber.. feel really was the knowning. She placed herself in front of the door. "You won't go any further..." she whispers. Her voice is shaking and she's moving still. The scent of garou-or perhaps more wolf than garou, wafts off her. "Put him down... now." her voice is firm... silent... and if to be believed deadly. Her breathing was coming in short gasps, as adreaneline pumped through her system. She needed to get him away from them, but she wasn't much use... like this... but.... to chance, could she eve do it? She felt a vauge tug... deep inside. She let her eyes close. To save the Doctor... to save the other two in the Cabin. Given in... "Wait... what do you want?" she asked softly. "If I come willingly will you promise not to harm him... anyone more than you have... and will you promise not to hurt anyone else... what ever it is you want I'll give it you if it is within my ability."
It is a gruesome scene. Kristin's protests don't stop the carnage that the other two Garou wreak on the doctor's soon dead body. And right before her eyes, she can see them feasting upon the man's flesh. Her voice though, keeps the attention of the alpha and in a blur the crinos lunges forward to knock the girl down. It feels like getting struck by a tree trunk, hard and brain addling. ~Foolish human,~ snarls the alpha in the Mother Tongue. ~Weakling. Do not worry. Your death will be swift and warm our bellies as the deer do for the wolves.~
Kristin coughs. It's startling being struck by the massive beast. She coughs again turning her head to the side. Her nose was bleed that mugh she could feel, bright red dripping down her lips, though she could feel the cuts there tooo. "Doesn't matter." she whispers. "At least then I'd be doing some sort of good. Rather be food then simply be mittigated to the sidelines. What can I do to help you, other than being food?"
Suddenly, the alpha of the Garou stops his snarling and stares at the girl. Seizing her easily by the front of her clothing, the crinos hauls you up right off your feet to stare at you from his ten-foot tall eyes. ~You understand what I say?~ asks the black monster.
Kristin nods slowly. "Yes! I understand!" she says angrily.... She looks around for the doctor, a momentarily concern rushing at her, was he already. She'd be roughed up by the big.... beasts but they'd probably mauled him. She was breathing quickly. "Yes I can understand what your says.. can I please attend to the human male...." she asks sincerly, trying to stready her shaking hands.
~The male is dead,~ snaps the Garou alpha. He is joined soon by the pair who killed the doctor. And as he continues to hold on to you, a couple of quick movements of his massive head send the two around the small hut of the healer's inn. ~As will be the pair of wounded inside. You, though... you will live yet, human.~
Kristin eyes widden. "No..." she shakes her head slowly. "Why?" she shouts. She her voice is small and meek compared to the Garou voices. "Why.. what have they ever done to you, they don't deserve this... if there something I can do... something at all... just don't kill them. Its not like.... they have done anything against... you.. have they?"
Golden eyes stare deep - there is no hint for mercy in the wild Rage-filled gaze. And the alpha's answer is no less angry. ~Your kind poisons the very heart of Gaia with each breath you take! Like a plague you spread, your numbers grow too great. You plow the lands until the Earth Mother cries in pain. We have decided to take action. We will cull the humans as the wolves cull the deer.~ The crinos swings about, turning away from the hut and tossing you down. The heavy sounds of werewolves knocking down the back door to the inn break in contrast with the sound of Ms. Serway's high-pitched shriek and Mr. Bramson's fear-filled yell.
Kristin freeezes. she crumples to the ground. She's no match for strength or power, and not even cunning coulr save her or them. But she turns towards the doors, and then back towards the beast. "Now wait just a moment..." she hisses. "You ever think of just talking to them.... to... us... to people... get us to listen.. instead of culling us. Things would be resolved much better without violence and bloodshed."
The black crinos' head shakes, his fangs reveal in a snarl of disgust for the suggestion. ~And waste time and breath, where in each passing moment your kind continues to breed, continues to spread, continues to destroy the land? The flesh and blood of the weak ones will be returned to the Mother.~ The dying screams of Ms. Serway and Mr. Bramson inside are silenced soon. ~You, though... how do you know the Mother's Tongue?~
Kristin shakes her head. "I don't... I only know that I can understand." she whispers. "Images... bits and peices... feelings." she whispers. "Just that... it is all I know." She winces as she realizes it is silence... nothing more, nothing less. She inhales and then exhales slowly. There wasn't anything she could have done to save them.
The alpha takes a long sniff of the girl, his blood covered muzzle coming very, very close. ~You do not smell of the Wyrm,~ he rumbles, thick in thought. ~And neither are you known to us.~ Then another dangerous snarl issues forth from the crinos as his companions return from feasting. ~If you are lying to me, girl, I /will/ kill you where you lie. Answer me the truth! Who taught you the Mother Tongue?~
Kristin exhales. "I don't know.. all I know is that I know." she says firmly. Her voice seems to ring true perhaps. It's quiet, but there's something about it. "All I know is I know."
A displeased growl rattles the air around from the alpha. ~Then give me a good reason why I should not destroy you where you lie, abomination.~ Even though you know you're human, more memories return. Memories of the Litany and other things you were taught as a cub.
Kristin frowns and then brightens. "I could act a go between, if you'll have me. Between the humans and the.... well... and your kind." she says softly, two fingers placed against her head. " Hmmm.." she focuses trying to bring those rushing memeories back into place.. focus... so strange...
One of the Garou returned snaps impatiently. ~Why are you still toying with the girl? End her already. We have other villages to go through.~ The alpha snorts at the offer, and then as his packmate speaks up he snaps his teeth at the pair of werewolves. ~Hush! This one understands the Mother Tongue.~ As if such a notion is preposterous, the other pair stare down at the girl. ~Is she a spirit?~ ~No, my nose smelled only humans here.~ ~Then she is a Wyrm thing.~ ~No! She is not tainted.~ The debate continues on.
Kristin eyes flicker back and forth between the trio of beasts. "I'm no Wyrm-thing... nor am I tainted.. thank you very much. I guess I know why what ever is out there. I know what I know. I think I'm supposed to help. Now will the three of you stop arguing?" she asks politely calmly. "There are better things to be arguing about I'm sure,"
As Kristin speaks, the other pair suddenly stop their bickering argument. They stare much the same way the alpha had. ~She's right,~ the third crinos rumbles, teeth flashing with blood and gore. ~Like which of those human settlements we will go to next.~ The alpha throws back a claw, his patience thinning. ~No. We will take this girl back to the bawn. The spirits will aid us in deciding what to do with her. There will be no more culling done tonight.~ At the first signs of protest, the alpha quickly shuts down the argument with a snarl and a snap. The pair with him hop to, moving away from the village. The alpha reaches down to grab your arm, pulling you to your feet.
Kristin follows. "I can walk." she whispers. "I can I follow." she looks back. Her yes closed.. three people dead because of her... or perhaps it was the number that was supposed to die. Or better yet, perhaps she'd saved lives because she'd been stupid. She followed the three crinos, better to follow the wolves, then be burned at the stake.. or stoned or tortured.
At some point, the fog within the forest beyond the village grows thick. And the crinos pair in front all but disappear, leaving just the girl and the Garou to continue walking in the dark. Despite being human, you feel the distinct energy of a caern the further you walk. The time that passes is quite a while, but eventually the journey stops before a black, deep pit lined with smooth mud that makes getting out impossible without tools. The crinos alpha grabs you and jumps down into the pit, landing on the packed earth below. You are set free for the moment, as he jumps back out without another word. The howls of the wolves ensue again, and this time you recognize them as an entreaty for the spirits to appear.
Kristin blinks. She knows the sound. Kristin tesnes , the mud the pit, it frightened her. But once her feet touch solid ground then energy of the Caern, fileld her she knew... she was... safe wasn't the best word to use, but it fit. "Here." she whispers softly. Were they listening? Were they spirits that the howls had called listening?"
The howls die away to nothing but distant echoes. Soon, the sky at the pit mouth is blocked by the silhouette of a crinos shape. It is the alpha returned, jumping down to join her once more. ~Girl. The spirits have spoken. You are not Garou, and not a spirit. You are to be brought before the Council of Elders, where they will decide what to do with you.~
Kristin nods slowly. "Alright." she whispers. She looks down at the floor, embarassement sweeping through her. She'd not broken a law.. least not one she coudl recall. And on top of that... well it just didn't seem right. She remained silent she was in a room of her 'betters'.
~Think hard, girl,~ the alpha counsels, ~and remember how it is you know all this. Because they /will/ ask.~ As the Garou turns to jump back up to the pit's mouth, he pauses. ~Do you require food and drink?~
Kristin shakes her head. "No. I am fine." She closes her eyes. "I only know.. what I know.. not where it came from, or how it got there. I wish I did. But I don't." she murmurs this quietly as if to try to make sense out of things, they think she could or perhaps should not possibly know.
The crinos turns more fully to stare. Those golden eyes once again look as if they could penetrate through the more guarded soul. ~Then I would spend tonight coming up with a very, very good lie,~ he rumbles in reply. His fangs clack against each other, hackles bristling for a minute more before he bends and leaps overhead to land outside the pit again, disappearing into the night.
PART 3 - In The Days Of The Impergium
The night passes without further incident, but the haunting howls of the wolves - the Garou - continue to faintly sound around until the moon hangs low. It's when the sunlight lightens the sky and fills one side of the pit that you are woken up again. And again, it is the same warform shape, the same Crinos, who comes dropping into the muddy bottomed prison to face you. His muzzle is still red and brown splotched with fresh and drying blood. His belly bulges only slightly with its filling, and even then the muscles can be seen covered by short fur. ~Wake up, girl. I am taking you to the elders.~
Kristin yawns. She's stands, it slow and careful. Making her flex in slow repeating patterns, she runs a hand through her short hair, and nods. "I'm ready." she says softly. Exhaling she eyes the Garou, and then begins to fall into step. She's not exactly terrified, though her breathing is a little rapid. She takes a moment to try to steele herself. "It's talking to some high ranking people, no trouble at all... not all..." she tries to convince herself with soft spoken words.
That is all the 'permission' the crinos needs before reaching over and taking ahold of you by the waist. With one powerful leap almost straight up, he clears the pit and then some to come to a heavy landing outside. Immediately, the green forest looks pristine and wild. It's not an area to be familiar with - no villager besides the wood cutter dares brave the deep forest for fear of bandits, witches and of course, the wolf monsters. Once above ground, he sets you down and points into the forest. ~We will go this way. Do not fall behind.~ And again the Garou leads on. Along the way, there doesn't seem to be any path visible through the forest floor. Interesting as well, perhaps, how such a large creature could move through the forest with hardly a sound at all. He's almost graceful, for a killer of men.
A solemn and quiet nod. She blinks at the change in light. "Yes." Kristin quietly. She exhales again, taking in the scent of the green woods. She'd eyes the area, the trees and grass. And then begins to follow. She has more trouble than the larger Garou, stumbling and climbing over branches and through brushes as best her human body can handle it.
The very trees and bushes seem more alive around here. An effect of the caern's power, perhaps. The pace quickens over a flattening section of the forest as the trees get less frequent and grass replaces needles and leaves on the floor. The reason is clear eventually - the pair come upon more Garou gathered together, where you can see seven of them in their various forms. Two homids, one male and one female, engage in a tense debate with each other about a village you know as a neighboring border town. Others wait in crinos, hispo and even one lone lupus rises to its paws as the pair break the tree line. A hush falls over them, but then one of the crinos - this one a purely white colored werewolf - steps forward to address them. ~This the girl?~ rumbles the creature with an evaluating gaze over you.
She follows, though once or twice she has to run to keep up with the Garou's pace. Kristin doesn't tense as she notes the gathering of Garou. If anything she looks as if she's about to bolt, but she remains still. She remains silent, taking deep slow breaths. She nearly does panic and turn around as the lone lupus removes itself from the surrounding area, a large swallow. She turns to look at the two homids, accessing them as they talk.
~She is,~ answer the black crinos. He is being obviously submissive to the white crinos, stepping aside and giving a berth. The debate between the male and female homids changes to brief shifts into their subsequent Glabro forms as they start to stare directly into each other's eyes, but soon one of the hispo snaps his teeth at the pair in a wolven 'stop it'. One pair at a time, the eyes of the Garou train upon the girl. ~You, girl. What is your name?~ Again the white wolf, a Silver Fang no doubt by the almost silver shine of his pure breed showing through, growls at you.
Watching the black Garou, she keeps her eyes down, nearly closed. "Kristin." she says quietly. "My name is Kristin." She tries to keep her body still, but fear crept into her voice as she spoke her name. She looks around beneath her eye lids, left and and right view the acitvities as unobtrusively as she can.
A murmur ripples through the group of Garou, with various snarls and discontent growls. Gazes turn from distant and curious to evaluating. The Silver Fang himself snorts and gives silent signal to the black crinos in a nod. ~So, the rumor that there is a human who understands the Mother Tongue is true, is it? Who is the one who taught you?~
Clearing her throught, Kristin straightended up, carefully averting her gaze for a brief moment, before turning back to the Garou who had spoken to her. Her black eyes, scan the few assembled Garou for a moment, her dark brown gaze nervous. "I understand, and I was not taught to speak the Mother Tongue." she tells the Silver Fang as politely as she can, honesty and simplicity in her voice.
~Impossible,~ dismisses the Silver Fang. ~Only the Garou truly understand the Mother Tongue! Someone must have taught you, girl.~ Off to one side, the black crinos looks on, ears splaying back and hackles lifting. ~If not, then how do you know our language?~ The Silver Fang leans his muzzle closer, breathing hotly through clenched fangs. The distance is held intimidatingly close to your face. ~How much do you know?~
Kristin moving back a little bit, away from the protruding muzzle of the Garou. "If anyone taught me, I have forgotten, who." she states. She swallows firmly. "How much do I know? What do you mean?" she began to move her lips to address him in some form, but then stilled her lips.
Impatience begins to color the Silver Fang's demeanor. ~About the Garou, Chosen Warriors of Gaia. Protectors of the wilds, and Cullers of Man.~ Away and up, the muzzle lifts and the Silver Fang stands tall. ~Before you stand the Council of Elders of this Sept. You are here, a human, standing here because the rumors had come that a human girl understood the Mother Tongue. We see this is true. And we ask, what else do you know about our kind, girl?~
Kristin steps back. She straightens up, fear and nervousness in posture. "I know a little bit." she rubbs her her hands together as she thinks. "You are supposed to protect the earth." she says slowly waiting a moment. "You are supposed to protect the earth, and stop something bad."
The girl's response gets a number of amused - and not amused - snorts and mild laughter from the elders. Amongst the not amused is the Silver Fang lookalike who questions her. ~Indeed. We fight the Wyrm. The Corrupter. We tear away the binding, maddening webs of the Weaver. And we kill humans who would use both to try and ruin the Earth Mother.~ A chorus of assenting growls colors the Fang's words from behind him. ~Is that all you know?~
Kristin closes her eyes. "There is a... a hole, or more like a gate or door, it swings bothways. Another World, there are many spirits there." she begins trying to recall, things her fingers pressing against her cheeck, the four of the them resting on the cheek bone, while her thumb is beneath her chin. "There are also big power spots, kind of like a bowl I guess, used for holding power, a c-something." she bites her lip again. Not enough to make her lip bleed, but enough to leave a teeth indentation. "There spirits, but they don't come to this side often, they are called, usually, but they do live here sometimes."
As Kristin continues on, the Fang grows increasingly wary of her. The white wolf's hackles lift along his neck. An angry bark comes from the lone lupus who stands off side, followed by many quiet murmurs. Gradually, the white crinos shifts down. The intimidating size of his crinos form melts and melds into the form of a strong looking middle-aged man, chiseled jaw, blond hair and bright blue eyes. He wears riding leathers made ornate by the designs etched and metal studs that make it appear more like armor than simple clothing. "How is it you know these things?" he asks again.
Kristin exhales. Her arms cross, as if to protect herself from something. "I don't know. I guess... I was taught them. I just remember them." She inhales again, her breathing has picked up a little, fear edging its way again into her voice. Tears are starting to form in her eyes, which she wipes away hastily.
"Tell us everything you know, then," the man says to her. "Everything. Don't leave anything out, and I warn you. If you lie, we will know. And you will not live to see the sun set."
Kristin bobs her head hastily, as she realizes just how dangerous this is. Her eyes widden a moment in fear. "I know there are different groups within the garou- tribes, and within those groups are smaller groups, kind of like interlinking circles. The groups have different functions, storytellers, and peacekeepers and healers, warriors and tradition questioning rebels. The tribes themselves have functions usually, but they don't always follow those functions. I think there are thirteen of them."
A quick glance from the Fang to the elders behind him, and he's back to listening. "Go on. What else do you know?" He's interested now, hanging on the girl's words.
Kristin nods, slowly. "The groups work together. There is a heirarchy, kind of like a wolf pack. Umm, there are rules, a um.. Litany, something like 13 rules." she thinks her eyes closing for a few moments, before opening again. "There are big group meetings..." she looks around her eyes flickering from Garou to Garou, and then back to now human-skinned Garou.
"Wait. Go back." The man holds up a hand, this time confusion crossing his face as he regards the girl. "Thirteen rules? What is this Litany you speak of?" There is a voice from the back - the female now-Glabro who steps out a pace.
Kristin shrugs. "I don't know it just... came into my head. Like I said, I don't know where it is from. I just know it. The word Litany sounded right, and the number thirteen sounded right too." she admits. She relaxes, as much as one could be with a group of killer wolf-people around her.
"She speaks the truth, for the most part," remarks the woman who steps forward. "But she also speaks utter nonsense. We don't have this so-called Litany. Why don't you ask her more pertinent questions, like whether or not she can speak to spirits? Or demand to know who taught her." Even though she's only in Glabro form, the woman's face is frightful. The Silver Fang growls through homid throat, clearly dissatisfied with the going ons. "More importantly, roll that tongue back into your mouth before I feel like ripping it out," threatens the Silver Fang to the interruption. The threat garners a baring of the woman's slightly sharper teeth at the man, but she retreats with a snarl of displeasure. "Don't waste our time," she instead says with a crook of a sharp nailed finger at you. "Tell us who you truly are."
Kristin blinks. "Who I am?" she murmurs. "I'm Kristin." she says slowly. She watches the finger, and then slowly continues. "I'm a nurse, a healer, I try to keep the peace. I'm not exactly brave, but I do try." she thinks, tapping her foot as she does so, though she stops after a few seconds. "I try to consider all the sides of the matter. I try to listen to as much as possbile, try to help people get along, if I can."
A sneer crosses over the woman's face. "I don't expect /humans/ to have courage in their breasts. More like the women scream it out with their shrieking breaths, and their men piss it out into their pants the moment they are faced with danger." Now the Silver Fang turns to glare at the woman, and she does actually back off a few paces. The man once again turns back to Kristin. His expression is stark, somewhat unfeeling. "The spirits mark you as nothing but human but you know about us. You have come to our caern. And now in light of this, we cannot allow you to leave." He pauses significantly. "Alive."
There's silence, she closes her eyes. "Hmm." the sound is neither of exceptance or denial, it simple is. "I see, so it's death, to keep from telling anyone." Kristin says quietly. "I don't think anyone would believe me. If anything they would think me as crazy, as you think I am." she shakes a little bit. Her eyes closing, as sobbs finally take over. Realization is sinking in, Kristin sobs, understanding and fear finally gripping her. "What did I expect..." she whispers, still crying. "I've always know weird things." she inhales, trying to control herself. She exhales. "You make it, sound like humans don't have any idea of the word courage. I hate to disagree, but for me to come here, I think that took courage. I stood up to you, answered questions, I could have just asked to be killed but I didn't." her voice is quiet, choking on tears, and then sobbing again.
"You speak of courage, but you shed tears and stink of fear! You mince your words with us, baby us with your passive phrases," snaps the woman again from the back. Kristin's words anger her more and more, it seems. "This is why you are weak, and the Garou are strong!" The woman turns to the Fang, now dismissing Kristin entirely. "Order her death, Courage-of-Falcon, and be done with it. We have more villages to prepare for tonight. We need not waste more time on this pathetic wretch who calls herself brave."
Kristin inhales, it's a shaking a slow breath. "You're right. I'm scared. I admit it." she struggles to get to her feet. Her eyes are still closed. "I'm weak because I know my weakness, when faced with things I bearly understand. I don't think it's weak, if anything I believe its a good thing. I know my weak points, and I try to improve them. I'm not physically strong. But I also know- somehow- that your kind value not only strength of body, but of mind and spirit." she seems to struggle with the words trying to choose them carefully, each blink of her eyes, seems to make her crying fade a little bit. She opens them slowly, her eyes are a bit red, though they are dark. "There are different types of courage. Courage on the battlefield, and courage that comes when protecting ones friends and family." she says quietly. "I don't mean to disrespect you, in anyway." She looks at the male,whom she believes in Courage-of-Falcon and then attempts locking eyes, however briefly with each Garou who choose to meet her gaze.
Having turned away in order to resume other debates with the other elders, the woman stops as Kristin speaks up. She even turns as the human girl continues to talk, rotating so her gaze does in fact return to regard the girl again. The Silver Fang stands in silence, having done so since this minor debate has gone on. His blue eyes have not left once. It's into these blue eyes that you challenge by staring there, and from that moment, a certain expression changes in the Fang's hardened eyes. "There are many fields of battle, girl. And the courage to fight within them does not come in types, but in phases like the moon. So. I ask you then, Kristin. If you were me, Courage-of-Falcon, the one who faced the blackest darkness and found light and strength in him... what would you do when faced with this battle?"
Kristin closes her eyes, her right hand against her cheek. "Like phases of the moon, so courage changes, fluidly from full and bright to dark and unseen, and every place in between. I would consider it carefully. There is someone who could, possibly be useful. I apparently know things that I apparently should not know, and yet some find that I should be killed for simply being different, aren't differences a good things? They allow you to see all sides, all faucets of the diamond which is the world we live in. You said you faced the blackest darkness and found the light within, didn't you? I consider looking beyond what you can see, then, over coming darkness and finding even the smallest flame to light your way is the first step of any journey."
"Child," the Fang rumbles as he looks to his large hands. Hands that are calloused with scar and work. "You have given me no reason to believe you would be useful. You understand our tongue. But that is all. What use do I need of you? We can shift to forms of Man ourselves and walk amongst you, wolves hidden amongst the sheep."
Kristin nods. "You're right. I guess bringing that into view, it does make me more useless. But I am sure I can do something for your kind." she closes her eyes. "I just don't know what I can do for you, but there must be something I can do." she thinks. "I do want to thank you for giving me this chance to speak, for myself." she begins. "What can I do, for the Garou, for the warriors of Gaia?" she closes her eyes.
The Fang considers her awhile longer, but then turns away and shifts his forms back to that of the crinos. There is nothing spoken or uttered, but because of the closed eyes, you miss the signal. Only the sounds of the other Garou moving off are heard. Should you open your eyes in time, the elders are disappearing off into the woods surrounding. Only the black crinos remains, having stood like a statue in silence at the proceedings. ~Girl. It seems your life has been spared tonight. Return to your village. But remember what you have seen here. Remember what words you have spoken. The power of your voice has that power to sway the hearts and minds of others - if you have the courage to do show that power. Take this Gift as reward for the Wisdom you have shown.~ A large claw drops heavily upon your thin shoulder. This time, a warm feeling rushes through. The knowledge of how to persuade others transfers from the mysterious black crinos to you. And then he turns to point towards the direction in the wood. ~Go in that direction until you reach the river, and follow it downstream. You will reach your village by next sunrise.~
Kristin nods. She's dumbfounded, her eyes simply close, she is not shaking physically, at least not noticibly. She opens her eyes, just to see the bushes and trees moving-just enough to know they have left her alone. "I will." she says. She doesn't stand yet, simply taking things in. Her hands feel the ground, as if waiting for something. Though she stands slowly, she staggers, reaching for the nearest tree to use as a brace. Kristin fingers grip a young tree, a deep firm breath. "I understand." she says looking towards the river. She starts a slow walk, gripping a tree every few feet to keep her from collapsing. "At least I won't become too thristy." she murmurs.
PART 4 - Where The Last Wolf Stands
Armed with new knowledge, progress through the forest is slow. When finally the cub chooses to sleep and fall into unconsciousness, her rest is long and full of dreams. The dreams that come are filled with the howls of wolves and the scents of the forest, the scent of snow fall in far away mountains, and the scent of cloven hoofed prey. Every dream is fitful and titillating, stirring the heart towards action. The feeling of wanting to run fills the legs, to howl and sing to the spirits around fills deep inside the throat. When next the cub wakes, she finds herself in her wolf form, in a forest lush with life. The scents of wolves, unfamiliar and yet inviting, smell strongest from their markings on the trees and bushes around. To the east come the howls of possibly those same wolves, calling in a cacophony. It is a defensive, territorial howl. A warning howl, to keep intruders away.
The howl alone, made the young cub, freeze and take stock of those singing to the night sky. The young she-wolf wanted to cry back, that she was no threat, she wanted to run to join the howls to cry to them that she was alone, and no threat. She walked a few paces through the grass, now noticing that it was scent and not sound or eye sight she relied upon most.
The howls continue on in a language that is nothing like the words of men. There are no names or words, just feelings and illusions to what men might personify as the emotions of wolves in these howls. The calls gradually fade away and the forest falls into stillness. But even in this area... no, /especially/ in this land of green, there is the feeling of life. It isn't exactly like a caern, where the power radiates strongly like a bright light on open ocean, but the power is living and wild, as real as a heartbeat. And indeed, the sense of smell is keenest to a wolf. The telltale odors of urine left behind show four other wolves, three male, one female. They are all healthy from their scents.
The simple emotion powering her next howl is that of Hunger, the need to hunt to eat, a strong furtive howl, asking permission to hunt on their lands, to find their prey to hunt and share her kill, even if it is meager. She started off, before double checking the scents trying to track, both prey and the small pack of wolves. Every she wanted to stay away but hungry drove her on.
There is no answering howl to the cub's plaintive cry, which fades away once its echoes have stilled in the air. The scent of prey is not present in the immediate area where she wakes, but as she continues tracking the smells of the wolf pack there are a few very old game trails. The wind is ominously still as she continues on, and the feeling of the unnatural quiet burrows like fleas into the fur. Then before she knows it, around a small gathering of bushes amongst the trees, the wolf pack appear. The alpha male's fur stands out brightly, almost glowing like silver flecked snow. Behind him come the two other males, submissive to his will but clearly and intensely curious about the cub. They all look excited to see her more than territorially angry. The one female approaches from the side, also another grey furred wolf but with a streak of rusty red like a tear drop running down the left cheek.
Small, and still a cub, more or less , the young wolf cub, takes a few steps back, trying to orient herself withsomething other than wolves at her back. She sinks, submissively to ground, nearly allowing herself to roll over on her back in submission, but she doesn't go that far. She simple watches them, waiting.
Large and a little imposing, the alpha male snaps his teeth at the other two males to make them back off from their close inspection. Placing his nose very close to the cub's flank, the alpha male takes a few sniffs to gather her scent in. He even places his body between the cub and the other female, quite literally hogging the cub to himself for a time. It is after the alpha male finishes his inspection that the others are allowed to take turns. The two sub-males snap at each other and vie for dominance with stares and fang-revealing twitches of their lips before one, the darker marked, gives way. Once they've all gone around, the alpha male grows comfortable enough to lie down near the cub. Like a sphinx, he reclines in a regal manner, ears flicking and twisting occasionally. The others take their cue to do the same, resting upon their bellies nearby. The dark marked male edges a little closer to the cub, almost finding comfort in her presence.
Ears dropping, and feeling relaxed she calms down, watching the others, the white she-wolf cub, eyes the dark sub male which comes closer. She stretches, letting her nose across her paws.
There the pack rests, all uninclined to move in the shade of the trees. The day of peace is long, all up until the sun has journeyed across the sky and starts the end of it on the western edge of the treetops. The dark marked male dozes lightly with his own nose buried in his curled tail. The other submale lies beside the trunk of a nearby tree. Even the alpha male has his head on his paws, eyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily in sleep. There is one wolf in the pack who is not asleep, though, and that is the female with the red tear. She gazes at the cub with golden eyes, staring unnervingly in silence. You will not survive, she says with a low snort.
Standing up slowly, and looking over at the female with her eyes down cast. She looks up for a moment and then stretches, eyes the alpha female with a quiet glance. Will survive,will live. Will hunt. The smaller, younger female responds with a low growl.
Only the strong and the smart will survive, insists the female with a touch more intensity. But the strength of her stare is different from simply being a bully. It is wisdom and desperation embodied. The others continue dozing, though the alpha male stirs slightly. The female steps closer, head lifting higher. You will not survive because we will not survive. Listen. The female's gaze turns away, looking off into the darkening forest. Do you hear it? The breath of the land is slowing. It is dying.
Closing her eyes, her powers outstretches like tree roots before her, the smaller white wolf listens, to the sounds. Dyinging, I hear life, and death, both. Not one winning over the other, a circle. She insists, it's not strong insistance as she moves to sit down her tail drapping over her hindpaws. We will survive, we cannot and will not die. We can and will on, better hunting grounds are near I think.
The red-tear female bares her teeth at the cub, a combination of fear and anger and confusion in her hackle raising posture. You do not hear anything! she growls, her tone turning into a worried whine. We are dying, but not the same way. The forest grows more silent. Soon, our voices will disappear.
Listening, and snapped out of her thoughts, she looks at the alpha female with more focus in her eyes. I hear it, and the silence is louder, but isn't there something we can do? The pack is small, stregnth is in numbers... Her whimpers and whines are puppy like, seeking both placication and wanting more information. She lowers her head to her paws again looking upset, and submissive. Our voices will disapear? We need to do something, lying around and crying to the moon of our sadness fixes nothing.
Once she looks back to the cub, the female moves over to placate her with a small nudge. We will howl until our voices disappear. We will howl until strength wanes like the moon. Come with me. Not waiting to see if the cub will follow, the red-teared female turns and lopes off towards the brush, leaving the others of the pack to their sleep.
Looking back to the pack, and then back to the red-teared female, she follows, a white snow ghost-wolf, moving into the green of the brush. Where? she asks, though she falls silent again after a few moments of attempting to keep pace with the older more expereinced wolf.
You will see, is the female's answer, because you will not hear or smell. And so, leading on towards an unknown destination, the female picks up speed. Soon they're running through the forest over rocks and dirt. The trees start to thin, and the wispy threads of spiderwebs drape like moss over the branches. The pace slows only when it looks like the ground has become covered in snow, becoming white all around. Only, it isn't snow, but webbing. The female slows the pace to a grinding halt when the trees become skeletal and bare, their only foliage consisting of the misty silk.
Walking softly as if trying to hide that she is eve nthere, the white wolf pup nearly gasps in shock, her lip curled up and a low growl of dislike. Death and more death, she growls. She pulls her paws free of the webbing stuff, trying to walk in the alpha females pawpints to avoid bein stuck. Why?
The female looks back to the pup, her ears splaying in confusion to the younger wolf's question. I do not understand. This is how it has always been.
Slowing to walk behind her leader, the pup accepts the answer. Always, this cold and dead, will it spread to the whole of land? She asks, trying to place her paws carefully in the places left the by leading female. If so, then I fear the land really is dying.
As they continue to walk, there are signs of life. At least, signs of former life, entombed in cocoon-like shapes here and there. The trees themselves, mummified in webbing, do not move at all or resonate with the same feeling of liveliness that had been present where the pack met the cub. Off to one side, the curled form of a hind rests as if it had just decided to fall asleep and never wake. The land has always been this way, the female repeats as she stops to inspect and sniff at the encased deer. The air is so still, it feels oppressive in its silence. It has always been this way, and it will stay this way. Do you see it? The land is dying... and so are we.
Stepping closer to the deer, the small wolf sniffs and pauses as if to assess the encased deer, and then reaches foreward with her muzzle. Can we just free it? Wake it up? She asks sniffing again before turning towards the adult. I know it won't brign the trees to life, but I feel bad, we could be eating that deer instead of letting it sleep. It could be bringing us life. She shivers though the air isn't cold. Then we will cry to the moon, let our voices ring out, tell others of this... perhaps they know of ways... she let her voice trail off.
The female licks her jaws, looking back at the cub. The moon? she asks with a glance skywards. There is no moon hanging in the sky above them - point in fact, the sky itself is separated from them as the webbing above stretches all the way up. The strands are so many and so thick, the moon and stars are absent here. The female sighs and comes to a stop again, looking all around and flattening her ears back. We have come far, the female rumbles softly, and I am tired. Let us rest here.
Looking back at the deer, and then back at the female wolf, the cub snorted, in slight irritation. If we rest here we'll endup like that... lets move on go back the way we came, at least until there's green grass and birds. She inches foreward, whimmping in slight fear. Please! Move, back to the forest, back to the green land. She says anxiously moves closer still almost wanting to race foreward and get the older female on her feet. She pauses, and then backs up walking towards her quickly, and then nips at the air near the old female's hind quarters. Move, please. This place is bad, and dying... we don't want to be here.
Snapping her jaws in irritation, the older female flumps to her belly and stubbornly refuses to move. I said I am tired, pup, now leave me be! growls the wolf. Though the air is deathly still, a hackle-raising chill comes to settle on top of it.
The young wolf simple sits there, thoug she is shivering now more violently. Lets go, I don't really care how tired you are, eve n if we just walk back to where there's a little green I'd be happy. This place.. it's too dead. She snorts and begins walking a fare distance away, within eyesight though. You don't feel it do you, that cold air, like coming snow?
The red-teared female doesn't respond in any way but a steady breathing rhythm and a closing of her eyes. The chill remains, but the female also doesn't respond to that either. Her fur remains slick and flat. The most unnerving thing about the area is its lack of stimuli. Everything is white and uncolored in its web covered state. There is no scent of anything, and no wind to carry sound. Everything is just frozen space.
Please... She turns around and races toward the older female. If you won't get up, then I'll make you. I will not leave you to die here! She growls, and for a moment she's much more aware of herself, taking into account her own size and that f the older female she goes behind her and nips at her haunches. Move! The bark is firm and angry. Move! Now, you said it yourself the land is dying, but it is not time to die just yet, you have the rest of the pack to consider. She doesn't whine, but she makes another point by this time actually going to try to sink teeth into flesh.
After the fangs finally break skin and draw blood, the cub is rewarded with a hearty yelp of pain and quick retaliation. The red-teared female surges to her feet and twists like a cat, teeth nipping hard at the cub as well. The small wound begins to soak the female's fur, gathering on the very tip and eventually dripping one small drop onto the ground. It splatters upon the web-covered dirt, showing up brightly red against the white. Though she bares her teeth at the cub, the female actually returns to showing some sign of activity and energy. Panting with her pink tongue lolling out, she gazes about her in mild confusion, like one who had been roughly awakened from sleep.
Frustrated, the cub sits down. We need to leave. She growls moving closer to lick the wound. I didn't mean to draw blood, but you need to leave, we need to leave. This place is sick, like water that doesn't flow. It needs time to heal, I think. And we do ourselves no favors by stay. If you wish to stay than stay, but I am going to return to the pack, and take your place, if nessacery. I won't have the others laying down and dying like dogs. She growls, and begins to walk off, hoping that her threat may awaken the she-wolf.
As the cub turns to leave, the red-teared female lets out another growling yelp - this time, it is filled with fear. The trees come alive, not with leaves but with spiders. Countless arachnids change the colors of the tree bark from white to black, their hard exoskeletons morphing from their camoflauged state. Thousands of legs and millions of eyes stare at the pair of wolves, every single one of them cold and unfeeling. That heavy rustling of legs shuffling themselves comes from the spiders, their numbers as many as leaves on trees.
Turning to help fend off the spiders fro mher semi-injured pack mate, the young she wolf growls, and start's howling, hoping to wake the pack with her cries and bring help, though after a moment looks at the red-teared female. We run, now! She saids angrilly.
The howl from the cub stirs the spiders from their frozen state, and they start to move in a concentrated swarm. Like a black wave, the arachnids scuttle after in a chase. Their legs all move in eerie unison, every single one moving in the exact limb in the same motion. The sheer number of legs striking tree trunk and ground creates a din of clicking. The female needs no more spurring on to move. She flees headlong and without reason, wheeling and balking as more and more spiders appear from the webbed woodwork. It seems like ages before off in the distance, a long, searching bay of a howl comes from the west where the sun supposedly sets. It's the voice of the alpha male.
Running and howling, howling and running, the younger female leads the way, following their scent trail back. A part of her wants to escape the spiders to run and take off, but a part of her too wants to keep the Alpha female safe. She falls behind a little bit. Keep going, she says spliting off from the alpha female by a length or two and running parrell to her, though still closer, they were really only seperated by a tree or two, and then she begins to weave in and out, closer to alpha and then away from her/
The continued howling gets another response, as the calls get louder and closer. The red-teared female continues to run, partly herded by Fears-Pain's direction, partly drawn towards the call of the pack. The webbing clings at the pawpads and fur, and though they run swiftly, the spiders catch up. Like little black riders, the arachnids clasp onto the fur stubbornly and shoot tiny strands of spider silk onto the fur of the two wolves. Though many fall or are shaken off, more still manage to climb on. There is hope, though, as a short ways away the end of the white is in sight. The green forest is not green anymore but filled with vibrant red rays from the setting sun, red as the blood that dripped onto the ground. There, at the edge of the white, are the three male wolves waiting for the two females.
Racing ahead as fast her legs will carry her, driven on by the desire to live, Fears-pain's howls of joy are excited but not without a twinge of fear, she looks to where she thinks the alpha female is, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She continues to run. Retreat into the Green! she howls.
They're almost to the edge, when the red-teared female's pace lags. She's covered with spiders and their webs stick her to the ground. She doesn't run anymore, but drag and try to force her way through. The three wolves of the pack bark and dance on their feet at the edge of the webbed area, but they dare not enter. The alpha male bellows his encouragement to the two, but only the cub seems closest to making it out alive. She's literally less than five lengths away from breaking through to green land as a new surge of spiders fills in the gap between her and the red-teared female.
Fears-pain, turns noting the alpha female's struggles with the small spiders. She howls, racing back, no wanting the pack to lose a crucial memeber. She growls trodding on spiders and attempting to clear a path for the alpha female. Move, shake them off, she yelps, and then looking around for a brach, she can carry, she picks a limb off a lower tree and begins swinging in her maw, hoping to clear more spiders away.
It's the lone cub versus millions. The branch ripped from the tree does little to swipe away the wave, about as useful as dragging fingers through water to try and part it. The red-teared female falls, buried beneath weight and webbing. Then, the cub has bigger problems to worry about. The spiders reach the edge of the white first and start to spill over to the green, weaving their webs along the trees in their agitation. The three wolves retreat further, barking at the cub and female. The alpha male calls out to the cub, urging her to go with them.
Dropping her stick she runs, towards the green, towards safety, towards her pack. Fear's pain tries to pick up speed, she doesn't look back though she knows and imagines the spider's weaving their webs. She puts on speed trying reach green and relative safety, four legs bounding against webspattered ground, hoping, to reach safety, hurting from exertion, but not wanting to give up at all.
The cub finally breaks through the spiders, her pelt covered in them still, and joins the three males who run for their lives from the invasion. Fleeing further and further into the forest, they leave the web-covered world behind. The sun sets and night comes, where the sky above can be seen again with the moon and stars shining. The alpha male leads to a wide, shallow stream where the wolves splash through to the next bank, and finally calls to stop.
Taking the time to swim through the water and drown the rest of the spiders, Fears-pain stops and climbs the banks with the rest of her pack. She nearly collapses near the others. She falls silent looking at the alpha male with only sorrow in her amber eyes. That place was death ,and she didn't listen. My fault, I tried to warn her. The cub tries to explain, as she stands to shake off excess water from her coat.
She did not listen, rumbles the alpha male in echo. She is lost. There is not sorrow in the alpha's tone however, but simple fact. Lost, but not unable to be found. Red-Tear is like all of Gaia now, remarks the dark-marked male. The lighter grey submale whines as he looks over the water, We are the last?
Fears-pain sighs, If we are, then we will make due with what we have, we will continue living untill we can do no more, we will change with the times. That may have been our downfall, we chose not to change. We must change if we are to live. That was Red-Tear's problem, she chose to change. I noticed, listened, I felt. I knew something wasn't right. She chose not to heed my warnings.
Dark-Mark lifts his voice to the sky, howling deep and low with sorrow. The mourning dirge of the wolf floats towards the skies, and the other pair join in. There is only one breath's worth of howling before it is over and the alpha male turns from the banks of the stream to face the cub. His ears splay out to either side. Red-Tear saw beyond what we see. She saw the time of the wolf growing short like sunlight in winter. I know not what we will do with her gone. Cub, you speak of change, but we cannot change. This is how it has always been.
Fears-Pain howls too in sadness, though after a moment her voice dies away from the others, and she moves closer to the alpha male. You are right, we cannot change, just like we couldn't stop the spiders, but I just feel like something we can do, form bigger packs, and then scatter, find better homes, warn others of these spiders. Red-Tear, I think she knew what I was trying to say, and perhaps my ideas of change are too big, and we can't do it, but I'd like to think that maybe we're like the return of the sun, and grass and prey after winters cold had gone.
The alpha male tilts his head at the cub, as do the others. Bigger packs? Scatter? Which is it we should do?
Laying back, relaxed, and calm, finally feeling at ease with them. Both, we form larger packs to hunt better in the winter , and we scatter during spring, but then again that doesn't work all that well. Forget my ideas, their the dreams of one who hasn't lived a full season. Dreams of one who hasn't really ever known hunger.
The trio of wolves look at each other, then at the cub. Dark-Mark licks his jaws to stave the expression of confusion, and the alpha male simply sneezes. The lighter submale sits with another look across the water. There are no others, says the alpha male. The others sleep like Red-Tear. Only the two-leggeds remain where the spiders live. We do not go there.
Fears-pain lays her head down on her paws. We will not go there. She repeats the words firmly. And we will not be lulled to sleep.
Then? asks Dark-Mark with a whine of impatience, looking from the alpha male to the cub. What will we do? There is only one way to make bigger packs, by mating and bearing cubs. The alpha male quickly leaps forward, teeth bared in dominance over the two submales. No! It is not time for mating. The big silver male rounds upon the cub, holding his head high. We will go to the two-leggeds. We go because they have prey. Dark-Mark chimes in, They are prey too.
Ears up, her head turns. We'll killed! She says getting her feet, her eyes and growls vurning with a fiercer fire than even one started by a lighten strike at the height of summer. They'll kill us for killing their food. We don't go to the two legs, not as pack, we'll be hunted and and killed just as we hunt the deer. Even taking the weak and sick of human prey-animals will see us dead fast than the wind. She's on her feet interposing herself between the three males and the water. We'll have to pass through the spiders again, and we won't make it this time. There's no safe place. We stay, we hunt, we live as we have always lived. This isn't the change I spoke of. Hunting the humans food is to court death.
The alpha male growls deeply, his own eyes flashing as he senses the challenge. There is no prey here! he roars in the face of the cub. The two-leggeds have taken it all! You are not Red-Tear. Red-Tear saw how we could survive by hunting the two-leggeds. Stamping a paw on the ground, the silver male demonstrates his annoyance with the cub. The others don't intervene with the alpha's tantrum.
Fine we will go, but death is sure to follow, I warned Red-Tear and look what happened, and now I warn you of the dangers of hunting two legged prey. She leaves the rest of the phrase unsaid as she falls into place behind the two sub males. Fears-Pain growls up anger are soft, but audiable. Death will come for those who hunt two legs. She murmurs, she follos quietly after the commonent.
The second stamp of the alpha's paw seals the decision, and he charges away at a tense trot. The others fall in, but Dark-Mark casts a look back at the cub. Birds have two legs, notes the wolf in a brief bit of insight. Not that there are any birds in the forest they're in right now either. As the group travels, once again they come towards areas where the trees are thin and there are signs of webbing here and there. But then the pack comes to a concrete asphalt road, where the smells of tar and crushed rock, rubber tires and burned gasoline fumes linger over the ground and in the air. The alpha wrinkles his muzzle and sneezes again, but presses on and follows the road.
Following slowly, at a lagged pace, behind the rest of the now female leaderless pack, the she cub, trots. Fears-Pain growls. You'll be killed, and even if not now sooner or later, the two leggs will know they hunt us. She says very very slowly, looking at the tail ends of the three males in front of her.
The others seem to ignore the cub now, set on their destination. Of the two submales, Dark-Mark keeps looking back at the cub and her grumblings. Soon, the pack comes to a stop where a black asphalt road cuts its way through the land. Even the alpha is careful enough to stay hidden, and watches. We are the last of The Land, rumbles Light-Fur, the other submale. The two-leggeds will come like the waves on Big Water, unending like the flow of Mountain River. They will gather and flood The Land, wounding it with their sharp sticks until the earth cannot bleed any more and crying out with their thunder sticks to scare all the prey away. We are the last of The Land, and if This Land dies, so shall we. So sang Red-Tear, the one who saw far and cried. The growls are low and solemn feeling, each of the other males watching Light-Fur's repetition of the fallen female's prophecy.
I understand. She told Light-Fur, moving beside him from her place at then of the procession. She took a moment to regaurd the Alpha male, and then looked at the black road. The humans trail. They will come, but there must be other lands we can walk, and hunt and claim, though we can not change Red-Tear's cries, we can move on and seek better hunting grounds, at least, hope that there are still lands where two leggs do not hunt.
Have you ran along this black stone river? The alpha male bares his teeth at cub. Do you know what it is that waits beyond? Only Red-Tear has run that far, and when she returned to us that is what she sang. If we leave this land, there will be none to protect it. 'If This Land dies, so shall we.'
Silence from the white cub. So Red-Tear sang,perhaps she is right, but perhaps she is wrong. The cubs falls silent again before looking up and down the black stone river with careful eyes. Then I shall run it, I shall see what lies beyond, why do we not head away from this stone-water way? It brings death as the humans do, we will stay and defend the land, but we must also know when to move on, when hunting has become scarce and we can no longer hunt or eat, or provide, will we await death? I say we move, follow the herds though they have fled."
The alpha male snorts his annoyance, pushing around the two males to come upon the cub in a display of dominance. You follow me! And we stay! We hunt the two-leggeds, hunt them until they are all gone and the true prey return. Spittle flies from the jaws of the alpha male as he snaps his teeth in the cub's direction.
Standing her ground she doesn't flinch, she almost doesn't submit. Then starve. Red-tear said humans were bad, then why hunt them? Their thunder sticks fell prey I have seen it! One can tack down what would take a pack. She says moving closer, her hackles are raised. We stay and we will die, we must change, we must move. Fears-pain's growl is firm but she seems to understand the alpha male's wants. Lead on. She says calming down, a low growl of annoyance.
The alpha doesn't take the challenge lightly, to the point that he knocks into the cub with his shoulder to knock her over. First thing's first, and that is establishing the leadership of the pack. Submit! I AM LEADER! snarls the male, jaws agape and readying to bite should she not surrender.
The snow white, she-wolf, yearling doesn't tumble over, easily, but she does go over and gets to her feet. You are. She admits firmly. But without Red-Tear, there is no Leader Female, the pack is unbalanced, we risk death. She says the words calmly, her hindquarters touching the ground, in submission. You are leader. she says again.
The pair of submales cast glances at each other, and then Dark-Mark and Light-Fur both seem to get the same notion in their minds. Not leader anymore, growls Light-Fur towards the alpha male, who spins around to face the new challenger. No! barks Dark-Mark. I will be leader! We go with the she-wolf! The alpha male puffs out his fur in utter rage, staring down Light-Fur first.
Turning around to look at Dark Mark. This is where, our paths part it seems. She says to the Alpha male, though she looks at Darkmark agan and then to Light-Fur. You are welcome to come, but I will ask what you are going to do, now... She looks to the former alpha, perhaps still alpha male of the small pack, with a curious gaze, hoping to hear his name and not his position spoken.
Dark-Mark slicks back his ears, made nervous by his own challenge but standing boldly on the path to completing it. You will leave? asks the darkly colored male towards Fears-Pain. The alpha male and Light-Fur start to circle each other, take a couple of steps and then leap for each other in a clash of fangs and blunt foot claws. Fur and cries of pain fly as the two find marks on each other. The sudden eruption of violence catches Dark-Mark by surprise, but the nimble male is able to escape the fight.
Fear's-pain isn't quite as lucky, she's not hurt or anything just startled and dances back into the brush. I want to. She tells Dark Mark, leave this land. It's sick with is spider-land and death smell in some parts. The old male clings to a song that leads to death, instead of seeking life by following the herds. She explains to Darkmark, but she watches the two males fight for dominance.
The darkly marked male grows anxious, not replying to the cub as he watches the pair of wolves fight. Both have drawn blood now, their coats slick with wounds. The distress caused finally gets to the young submale and he barks out a series of high pitched pleas for the fighting pair to stop before he too dives in. Soon it's three fighting, a twisting ball of bodies coming together for quick clashes and then breaking apart again. In one instant, the alpha male gets ahold of Dark-Mark's nape and bites down hard, twisting and shredding the loose skin. The wolf yelps out loudly, trying to break away and retaliate.
Watching the three way fight the she-wolf howls. It's a clear somber note, of calling on the wolves to listen to her voice and her's alone. Stop. She begins, walking towards the fighting males. Stop it, we're hungry and we need a leader, and since I seem to be the only one who's not going to die fighting, listen to me and work this out later. Fear's-Pain's hackles are up, her lips are curled back showing her fangs.
The fight continues until finally, Dark-Mark gives up on trying to separate the pair. Rather, he's forced out of the fight with deep wounds to his face and forequarters. The other pair though, the silver furred alpha male and light white submale have turned each red and pink with their bloody battle. They break off at the howl, not because of the female, but because of their exhaustion. Neither seems to be giving in, or really listening. They circle again like sharks in a tank too small.
Fear's-pain, stops her howls and heads towards the trees looking for herbs. She knows them by scent, grabbing a few the makes her way back with leaves in her mouth to get them on to Dark Mark's wounds. Be Still. We will leave these silly males to their deaths. She states placing the leaves on Dark-Mark. I'll hunt for both of us.
The herb search takes a while, what with having to travel back to an area that actually has something that smells like a medicinal plant available. Plus the time it takes to gather enough with the ineffectual mouth of a wolf adds delays. The sounds of the fighting pair can be heard as the cub is away, and finally they all stop. By the time she returns, there's not one, but three injured wolves on the ground. One, the alpha male, has dragged himself to the road's edge and toppled over. Light-Fur lies fatally wounded where he dropped, bleeding out. And Dark-Mark remains where he lies as well. Dark-Mark weakly lifts his head as the cub returns, ears slicked back with a whine. The Land is dying, wheezes the wolf with a look into the eyes of the cub. The Land is dying, and so... am I. Go.
Fears-pain shakes her head. "Not without you, you can fight, Light-fur will die and the Male Leader refuses to see, you wanted to come, and help me. We'll make it. Just wait a moment, you'll be feeling better in no time." she searches his eyes, her nose sniffing for signs of death or recovery.
Dark-Mark again whines, this time weaker in sound. Go. Keep The Land alive. There are no signs of recovery, as it is with the way of the wild. The scent of death lingers as Light-Fur's death rattle issues forth.
Slinking away slowly sowalks away, only to find a quiet place, to issue a long howl, tell those who can still hear, that Fears-Pain, still lives, will go one will keep the land alive.
The howl lifts into the air, carried by the wind further and further. There is no answering howl, however, but a shrill cry that sounds like an unearthly creature. From the forest's edges, a flowing equine figure comes galloping like a vision. A unicorn, brilliantly pure in its fantastical sight, wheels around past the trees and leaps over a hedge of bushes almost weightlessly before coming to rest nearby. The long, spiralling horn juts straight from its brow, pointed in the direction of the wolf cub. Then the glowing hide of the mythic horse dulls enough to not be blinding. It paws at the ground, almost looking at the cub expectantly.
Walking towards it slow, Fears-Pain knows what this is... the gaurdian of the Land. I am here. I am Fears-Pain. She says firmly siting down as close as the creature will allow her to.
*Fears-Pain,* speaks the unicorn, *What have you done?* Though the spirit uses its own tongue, the listening cub finds it to be in a language her mind understands. The unicorn... is not happy. A stomp of its cloven forehoof is telling.
Shrinking down, as if in shame from the voice of the Gaurdian. I watched, I suppose I tried to mediate a fight, to prevent the death of a group, and I suppose I brought it swiftly to them instead of stopping it. I understand and except my mistake, my niavete. Instead of trying to prevent the death of the wolves, of land, indeed of the those who fear change, I only brought it quicker by trying to force change, by trying to make them do what they were afraid of. As she speaks she seems to reflect on it, and understand.
The unicorn waits in seemingly infinite patience for the wolf's reply. *You do not yet understand what it is you are,* is the horned creature's next statement. *Fighting. Struggle. These are things your kin and kind understand. The Children of Gaia too, understand what it means to fight. What it means to live.* Turning its head, the unicorn levels an eye upon the young wolf, and then it steps closer. It lowers its horn gently, to where the point lightly brushes the very tips of the cub's head fur. Then it steps back, and the feeling of being able to shift returns. The Rage, the spiritual fire that burns, grows more evident like the flaring of a bonfire before it smoothes out back to glowing embers. *Return to your kin. Tell them what you have done. And when it is time, perhaps you shall return here and truly find The Land alive.*
A relaxed moment as the power-the knowing of not being trapped anymore in one form or another returns. I know to live and to fight can be on and the same and I am willing to do such, but not when needless deaths are involved. Dark Mark need not have died, and yet I understand why he did such. I should have joined in the fighting, but I did not. I needed to watch and choose my time. She whispers. I chose to watch and wait, to heal the wounded, to attack only when nessacery.
The unicorn turns to leave, its leonic tail twitching behind. Before it starts back off, however, the horned head swings around to gaze upon the cub one final time. *Fears-Pain. That is your name. Know that the longer you wait to see what to do is the longer that others will suffer.* The unicorn's words linger like bells in the air, and then it gallops away, kicking up the dirt and leaves on the forest floor as it goes. The white light begins to glow off its body, brightening the night further and further until it is blindingly white all around. Then, the world goes dark again.
PART 5 - The Reason of Unicorn's Displeasure
When next the cub awakens, she finds herself in a small cave, lying upon a mat made of leaves and pine needles and some more covering her for warmth. Some food has been left out, a fresh looking apple, a bowl of water. Joints are stiff and muscles weakened from disuse. There are a few sores, but nothing a moment's shifting wouldn't heal. In essence, the cub finds herself back to her actual self, back in reality once more.
Kristin doesn't sit up. "Huh?" she blinks her body aching. She can smell the water and turns over to drink, slowly. "Hello?" she asks looking left and right.
A small notebook of lined paper lays beside the wooden bowl with the fruit. Lingering in the air, the smell of incense of some sort along with sage burned to keep the air clear. The cub's voice echoes in the small cave, but there is no answer.
Kristin scooting around to look at the paper carefully she munches on the fruit alternating between it in the water, looking a little more upset. "What'd I do wrong." she whispers.
Down the paper is a series of numbers and slashes, with other numbers. One side looks like dates, chronologically dictating the time spent. It might be surprising to find the numbers go for a fairly long while. Then there's a note written in poor English on the back: Kristin, If you wayk up waile I am not their, Eat 1st. Then, go back to the caern. --Yi
Kristin sighs. She gets to her feet. Taking the paper with her she makes her way to back to the Caern trying to make things make sense. "The unicorn was there from when I was found, the Gaurdian of the Children of Gaia?" she squints trying to remmber is that was correct.
Though not exactly waiting at the caern, Yi is nevertheless patrolling the area. The going there is tough enough with muscles that have weakened from being asleep for so long. The Gnawer fostern spots the girl, though, and in a bit of surprise just out a hand up and calls out. "Hey! Over here!" The path down into the caern itself is treacherous and steep for the inexperienced, and so the ragabash picks her way towards the path. When she meets up with the cub, her eyes are expectant. "Well?"
Kristin smiles. She begins to relate her tale to the Bone Gnawer. "Well there was this Unicorn at the end I think it.. he-she... its' the gaurdian of the Children of Gaia isn't it? It told me I had to tell you what happened and so I have does it make sense to you or am I stil being tested or something?"
Yi blinks a few times, listening very intently to the cub as she retells the journey of her Rite of Passage. Many a moment passes where the Gnawer's face twitches indescribably and she glances skywards. Finally when Kristin reaches the end, the ragabash lets out a long breath she almost didn't know she was holding. "Come with me," she indicates with a wave of her hand, and leads the cub back down to the caern where they situate themselves by the pounding waterfall. "Wash your face first, and I shall tell you what I believe is going on."
Kristin nods. She follows and rinses her face in the water scrubbing firmly on her hand ans arms as well. "Alright," she says moving towards the Yi.
"Kristin," Yi begins very slowly once the cub's finished washing up, "Unicorn saw reason not to accept you into the Children of Gaia." She lets the statement sink in for a long, silent moment. "It means, you have not passed your Rite of Passage, given to you by the Garou and our pact with the spirits."
Kristin nods. "That much I came too on my own. It felt like I'd missed the point on it." she says. "Like I'd walked right by it, that I'd missed it some how. But I suppose it's a set back. I don't get killed for not passing right?" she asks quickly her mind jumping to the fact garou did a lot of less than pleasant things for failure or missing things.
Yi wets her lips, pausing to take a drink of the water herself. Wiping her chin with the back of her hand, she continues, "If you must ask me whether Unicorn is the 'Guardian' of the Children of Gaia, then... I would say the spirit is right to turn you away. You said you waited and watched as the wolves kept fighting until they killed each other. What does that mean to you?"
Kristin frowns. "I didn't exactly watch them. I waited, hoping to stop the fight, but it didn't stop them, when one moved away I went for herbs when I returned, the other two had stopped fighting... the were dying.
Yi nods again, picking at a blade of grass. "You waited. You hoped. Which means, you did nothing. Kristin, you have seen three wolves die before you. Knowing that maybe you could have stopped them, but instead you did not act. Does that not bother you?"
Kristin nods. "It does. It really does, I didn't want to get killed, I saw what they could do to one male, I was smaller, less muscular and to get even close to them would have cause my death in a matter of moments. But I see what your saying I should have just jumped in."
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