Stronghold Totem Quest
8/15/2007
05:19 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Fwiffo's GM Room(#3576RFJL)
A particularly well forested area of the Bawn.
Contents:
Long-Suffering
InleRah
Jamethon
[Sometime during the half moon...]
Jamethon has the three of them standing in a half-circle in the woods, as he has done for other packs he has performed this ritual for. Both palms on each intended pack member are cut with flowing blood, and in the center James stands, with his right hand joined in Yi's and left in Ayita's. Yi's and Ayita's other hands are exposed to the air, and all hands, joined or not, drip blood slowly to the ground beneath them. Jamethon speaks loudly and with certain strength. "Gaia! Together we stand. We call to you and your children! Send forth that which will complete this circle and bond us to each other under your guidance!"
Yi stands to Jamethon's right, just this side of stoic by expression as he performs the ritual to bind the pack to spirit. She eyes him sidelong, but only for fleeting seconds. The ragabash twitches her cut hand in response to the pull of the moon, but remains silent and watching for any sign.
The Songkeeper looks across to the others. She is silent and has an expression of general interest in the Fenrir's ritual. Ayita keeps her hands intertwined tightly with Jamethon and Yi's as the ritual progresses in strength.
The three would-be packmates feel a pressure--like gravity times 2. The weight pushes down on them, increasing exponentially until it seems certain that one or more of them will pass out. The world seems to shrink and go black from the outside in, like in those old movies where fade to black came in a slowly closing circle. the world does not disappear, however. As it closes, the center becomes a bright light. The weight begins to lift, and the trio is draw into the light. On the other side, they find themselves traveling up a moon path on some strange, ethereal umbral realm, (Not /the/ ethereal realm, mind you--just ethereal in the sense of the adjective). The sky is a hazy green, and meteors shower like fiery rain all across the sky. None are near-by, but that seems pure luck at the moment. Lightning in the form of wavy lights illuminates strange clouds, and the air tastes of Ozone. The moon path continues upward for many miles, and in the distance it disappears into a black spot. The spot draws like an unexplained mystery, but the trio are faced with more immediate issues--and not just the meteors. Off the side of the moon path there is a band of small...beings? Spirits? Five in all, running towards them. They are shouting and gesturing, but the trio can't yet make out what's being said. One thing is clear, however. All five wear a red and black tabard with a mysterious symbol on it. If thye look down, the three garou, somehow, also wear the tabard.
Jamethon only opens his eyes wider under the oppressive weight, teeth grating together in a snarl. Once through and onto the moon bridge, the Fenrir seems to find strength in the hands of his packmates and as those 'beings' close in, Jamethon looks to the blackness ahead, the path behind, then stands and faces those spirits. "We do not run from that which we do not understand."
Yi tries not to look disconcerted by the changing pressures and warps. Her expression changes to that of awe around at the meteors, eyes staring for a time. Once she follows a meteor trail down to see the spirits incoming, she blinks and points out the five to her would be pack. "There are five," she says simply. And it's on her point out that she realizes her clothing's changed, raising an exposed arm to look at the peculiar colored fabric.
Ayita whines under her breath as she feels gravity push her down. When it finally lifts and she can finally see again, she looks nervously towards the other Garou. "Very unusual," she murmurs. She looks towards Yi as she looks at the clothing the Ragabash and the rest of them are wearing. "What's this mean?" she asks, gesturing towards the symbol on the tabard.
The symbol on the tabard is a simple circle of black with three lines cut through it. The circle is attached to and enshrouded in a pair of unfolded wings, also done in black. It doesn't seem familiar to any of the garou, but it seems to unify the group. As the beings run toward the packmates, it becomes clear what they are running from. Over the distant hill from where they come erupt a mass of other beings. Some are misshapen but clearly made of flesh, some are wispy and incorporeal. All are very angry. Growling and spitting, they surge over the hill like a hungry wave. Maybe twenty in all. The beings themselves become clearer as well. They are garou--or at least, some strange, dream-like image of garou. Each is exaggerated and strange.
Jamethon growls out and looks to the fleeing garou running towards them, then to the creatures behind those Garou. "The Wyrm comes, those Warriors flee from it. The numbers do not stand well in our favor, my friends... But we protect Gaia, and all her children." He looks to Ayita then Yi, "We stand our ground. The fleeing warriors will regroup with us..." Here he melts instantly up to the crinos with a loud snarl, ~Then the foe will crash apart upon our claws like glass upon stone.~
Yi squints at the approaching wave, growing more or less uneased at the Warder. He rises to warform, and she drops the pretense of Veil after him, matching form. ~I hope you know what you're doing,~ rumbles the ragabash with a flex of her claws before calling out to the fleeing spirits. ~Over here!~
The Uktena follows the pack-leader by shifting up to crinos as soon as she senses trouble among them. ~Stand and fight,~ she rumbles in echo to the Fenrir's words. The hairs at the back of her neck are raised with anticipation.
The five fleeing garou are soon on top of Jamethon and his pack. The largest of them bellows out, ~You're late!!~ He stops just before the moon path and wheels to face the oncoming wrath. On either side of him two of the others do the same thing so that the three of them form the beginning of a line. They each wield impressive oaken staves that are now thrust out toward the enemy. The final two--one tall and one very very small, continue past the trio of garou. The tall one gives Jamethon an open glare for his tardiness and then billows out his tabard like cloak. It floats back down to enshroud the tiny one beside him and in an instant those last two strange garou-beings disappear completely. The three others remain with Jamethon, Yi, and Ayita to face the twenty pouring down atop them. In no time, the wyrm-ridden enemy is there. The large one in the middle lets out a roar andy Fenrir would be proud of, and it cows the first seven or eight slavering dogs that approach. They whine and pee themselves, and slink backward in fear. The giant strange garou's staff comes down to take out three more like a sickle in a grain field. The others jump in as well, each taking on more than one of the enemy. But, oh, there are plenty more that slip through for the Garou of the Walk.
Reflection has no words, just an answering roar as a warcry to his new allies. The Crinos Fenrir practically rolls forward, what with the smoothness and force his feet and hands strike upon the ground to drive him forward with. He snarls and points to a particularly icksome looking foe and with weight of will and gift commands, *Attack your allies!* He is already, after this, aiming for another among the Wyrm-tainted enemies, claws ready to strike.
Runner's lips peel back as the spirit-leader of the group makes his 'complaint' on their tardiness. ~Only because we were not going to wait around for the main event,~ she grins toothily. Taking a moment to determine a path of action, Yi seeks out a small group out of the fear-ridden dogs, claws and fangs flashing when she attacks. Her intent, to drive them back and 'encourage' the fleeing.
Long-Suffering's claws ready to take a strike at the oncoming enemy. Her ears pin back against her head and her teeth bare to threaten off the oncoming enemy. ~We are here now,~ She growls to the newly arrived around her.
The Get of Fenris's command immediately has two of the wispy incorporeal spirits turning from them to attack their own. They bite and slash, and claw at two others, and soon those four are out of the fight, too content to kill each other. Then one of the larger dog-like fleshy ones leaps for Reflection's throat. The Fenrir is knocked to the side, but his claws strike home, nonetheless, and score long wounds along the dog's shoulder. It yelps and whines, but continues on like a rabid animal. Teeth sink into Reflection's arm instead of his throat, and both begin to bleed. The dog, however, bleeds more.
Runner tracks one of the cowering dogs, and as it is far too pre-occupied with trying to dig a tunnel to escape, she has no problem actually ripping the one's throat out. It dies in a gurgle of blood and spittle. The act brings one of his friends to the attention of the ragabash, however, and once it is not focused on running, it attacks her. It's claws are reckless and uncoordinated, but they score rends along the Bone Gnawer's belly.
Long Suffering is surrounded by three of the wispy spirits. Like wasps, they are quick and dart in out out with their stinging attacks. Nonetheless, The Uktena stands her ground, and despite the fact she is littered with dozens of stings ten times as painful as a mere wasp, her teeth catch one and shred it literally into silken web like strands. The spirit dies.
Reflection roars out, not in pain... he feels no pain, but in defiance. Rage pumps through his veins like a drug and he uses claws into the foe's belly, fangs at the foe's neck to rend it to pieces.
Runner snaps her jaws shut with a snarl at her next enemy. The dog gets an angry look from the ragabash, but instead of going for the kill outright, she moves to snatch it up and hurl it away into its brethren before making her way towards Ayita.
The Songkeeper continues to battle off the two remaining wispy spirits while baring the pain of their stings. Long-Suffering switches tatics, attempting to swat at them with her claws. Her ears remain plastered back, concentrating on that which is attacking her right now rather than her attention on anyone else.
The Get's strike nearly eviscerates his enemy. Reflection is rewarded with a coating of the dog's offal and digestive juices, not to mention blood. As the one falls, two more take its place, and Reflection is pushed backward, biting and clawing against the foe that outnumber him. The three of them are a blur of dust, blood, claws and teeth.
The misshapen dog on Runner is tenacious, to say the least. He eludes her attempt to snatch it up and hurl it, and with a dodge and weave it sinks its teeth into her haunch. Flesh and muscle are ripped from the ragabash's backside.
The two remaining wispy spirits are careful not to get close enough to become victims of the Uktena's claws. But the new tactic lessons the wounds she takes, as well. In one of these dancing exchanges, she scores another strike to one of them, shredding it lightly but not killing it.
The giant brute lets out another bellow, burying the end of his staff in one of the dogs on Reflection. Another staff from one of his companions beheads yet another dog. The remaining wyrm, including the wispy ones, scatter and flea, the battle lost.
Reflection does not seem worried in the least at his prediciment. ~Do not suffer the coward to live!~ He seems to have the sense to roar out to his allies as one hand pushes one of the two creatures away just long enough for the claws of his other hand to close around, and then squeeze right through one of the dog's throats, popping the head off in a small shower of gore, like a broken pez dispenser... filled with blood and viscera.
Runner snarls in pain and anger as she misses her strike, and whirls around to retaliate. This time, she makes /sure/ to aim for it with intent to fatally maim or kill the creature outright. The other enemies fleeing don't have her attention in the heat of battle just yet.
~Get the fleeing!~ Long-Suffing roars out as she continues to attack. Her claws are at ready to continue the fight, bring down the last of the Wyrm.
The giant brute lays a massive claw on Reflection's shoulder. The heavy weight has the effect of literally immobilizing the Get. ~Enough, brother!~ he rumbles, and the sound carries like thunder. It's enough to still the wind it seems. He adds for the Get's benefit, ~They do not escape. They merely return to the horde that they came from. And we will need to wade through them to get where we are going, eventually. Best to rest and heal first. There will be time for killing them soon enough.~
Runner whirls and leaps for the throat of the dog still tenaciously clinging to her. Her jaws find its throat and tear through vulnerable flesh and fur. Like the first, it dies in a gurgle of its own blood, and the first thing Runner sees is one of the alien-garou, yellow-eyed and grinning toothily--peering down at her with approval. Another of the strangers wheels in front of Ayita and stops her from pursuing the wispy ones that plagued her.
Reflection snarls at the hand that holds him back, but then turning to look to it, he quiets and nods under the force of the giant's bellowing... though not bothering to clean himself of the enemy's viscera. ~Their numbers will be greater later for not killing them now... but the next fight... more rewarding.~ He offers in low growling. Then glances up to the brute for a moment before looking out to where the dogs flee, ~Fenris forgive that my foes still live. They shall not be alive for long.~ He looks over to his packmates and nods with approval, ~You two handled yourself well. These minions of the Wyrm will know to fear us.~
Runner bites down with a satisfied crushing crunch of her teeth on the throat of the wyrmdog. After a moment of making sure it's dead and done, she spits out its carcass and has a look at it for closely, just before glancing up towards the alien-garou grinning at her. Her ears splay, and she looks about. ~Where are the other two wearing black and red?~ she asks aloud.
Long-Suffering snarls at the one who blocks her, although she quickly sobers and looks up at them. Her ears remain flatten against her head as she swivels her head towards her other packmates. ~Who are you?~ she rumbles towards the strangers, looking confused.
Though no one can claim to see exactly where they came from, or when they returned, the missing two strangers are back--almost as if Runner's words had called them. The giant's eyes shine with amusement and understanding at the Get's words, his massive head nodding to the words. With the battle over, the garou get their first good look at this weird collection of alien garou. There are five of them, in all.
The first is tall and lithe with shifty eyes and an effeminate visage. His fur is white and slightly curly like a sheep dog. His talons are elongated, so much so that when he wraps his claw around the gnarled staff, his digits have to curl in on themselves. His muzzle is elongated as well, giving him a sophisticated, intelligent air. His eyes have a slight epicanthal fold that gives him a an almost Asian look. The staff in his hand is thin and straight, and imbedded at the top is a yellow stone that reflects the green light of the sky with prismatic winks.
The second is brutish and hulking. He is clearly the largest of the five. His fur is a dark ash and brown. It is thick and bristly, almost like a boars hair, and indeed two tusks just up from the massive jaw. The eyes are wide and searching, inquisitive and thoughtful. And yet, the claw that grips the huge staff in his hand could and would crush the life of any crinos garou, should this beast feel the need or urge. His staff is like a wrenched tree trunk, it's end a curled, broken and twisted branch with a giant knothole in it. Among the twisted wood one might almost see a face.
The third is the quietest of the group, and nearly the smallest. Her fur is silk-like and deep ochre, short and functional. Her eyes are watchful and calculating, the same yellow-green color as the sky. Despite her small size, she has an air about her that wreaks of confidence and agility. The talon that wraps around her staff is slender and ends in black, wicked claws. the top of her staff, too, ends in the sickle-like curve of a sharpened blade.
The fourth is an aloof being. Dark eyes, almost black, regard each in turn as if they could see right through to the garou's soul. Her fur is long and black, and perfectly groomed. Her slender frame has a frailty about it. The staff gripped in her claw is black as well, and taller than the others. It ends simply, without fanfare.
These four surround the fifth. And she is a tiny little thing that--quite clearly--is very dear to all of them. She might as well be mute, for the small and fragile creature does not speak to any of the garou. She simply stares, watching and taking in everything. she goes where they tell her to, and does what they ask. But the girl is vulnerable, without strength or claws. And yet, they treat her like a queen.
Reflection gives something like a snort of laughter, then turning he spots the smallest of the 'spirits'. He bows his head deeply to her and offers, ~I feel like I know you.~
Runner studies the five (with the two returned), taking a moment to sniff at them. She almost repeats Ayita's query, but instead points to the logo writ across all their chests. ~Each of you looks so different. But each wears the same symbol. What does it mean to you?~
Long-Suffering is watchful as she listens to those surrounding her, including the Garou she knows. The red-furred crinos lowers her guard marginally as she shifts her eyes from one to the next.
The four bigger strangers exchange confused looks before peering back at the Walk garou. Only the fifth seems unaffected. She remains wide-eyed and watchful, but unconfused. ~Are you alright, brother?~ The big one asks of Reflection. The one near Runner, with the green and yellow eyes, echoes the concern with her own question, ~Do you not recognize us, sister? Your family?~ The one near Ayita lowers her staff and adds, ~Very strange. They do not know us.~
Reflection stands taller and more self-sure now. ~I am fine. Just where I want to be. Let us be frank though. We came here from the forests of earth. We are Gaia's warriors. Garou, as you appear to be. Among us, children of Fenrir,~ Here he nods to the great one before him, ~Of Rat,~ He nods to the one before Yi, ~And of Uktena,~ Here he nods to the one before Ayita. ~We came here on a quest, sent by ritual in Gaia's name... to seek out the one that would guide our pack as it's totem. We know not why were are here, the meaning of our tabbards, nor your names. Speak, do not be worried with confusion, and enlighten your brothers and sisters.~
Flicking her ears, Runner looks to the yellow-green eyed alien-Garou at her question, following the conversation down to each speaker. ~It is not that I do not know,~ rumbles the Gnawer uncertainly, before a mild smile spreads over her muzzle. ~I just happen to have a big family.~
Long-Suffering licks her lips and lets her packmates do the talking for her. Her ears twitch, waiting for the reply to the Fenrir's comment.
The one beside Runner seems to like the Gnawer's style, at least, matching the grin with one of her own. The big one beside beside Reflection remains confused, though. And perhaps a little concerned, as well. His massive claw is lifted from Reflections shoulder, and it's then that the Get notices the battle was hard on the great warrior. He's covered in blood--much of it his enemies, but a great deal of it his own as well. He's weakened and tired, but remains stalwart nonetheless. Once again, the four larger alien-garou exchange looks, unsure what to do, it seems. Finally, the one standing with the small one speaks up, ~Perhaps some food, and some rest, and we can talk more.~ He's the one that leads them to a small, secluded glade that offers protection and warmth. There all of them can sit, rest, and eat. It's the big one that hands out food to the three Walk garou, saying a small prayer over the meager portions. ~Mother, we ask your blessing upon your children tonight, let you heal them and make them strong so they may defend you.~ Once settled and eating, The four of them, in turn, tell the garou this much:
They learn that the first one's name is Maenth, that the big one's name is Sharduhm, that the yellow-eyed one is called Poua, and the dark eyed one is named Osha. It becomes clear that while words like Earth, garou, totems, and even Gaia have no meaning for them, they do understand that a pack is a family, and that they are family. And they always have been. The tabard is harder to explain, and none of the four can seem to put it into words. Finally, it is Osha that says, ~Somethings just 'are' and can't be defined more than that. The tabard makes us family. It is part of us, and always has been.~
Reflection offers a bow to the prayer, then when Osha speaks, he nods to this wisdom. ~I understand.~ He speaks, and then in a curious tone asks, ~But the symbol, what does it mean to you?~
Runner doesn't turn down the meal offered, even if she gives it a sniff over before partaking in small, quick bites. Her gaze strays towards the silent fifth, and she wonders to the other pack, ~And who is your young sister here?~
Long-Suffering is paying special attention to the smallest member of the group of alien warriors. She only pecks at the food offered.
Osha's lupine visage turns down in a thoughtful frown at Reflection's question. ~Home,~ is all she says. It is Sharduhm that speaks next, ~Which is where we need to go. The Little One will not last.~ Each looks to Runner, then, their ears splaying in genuine surprise at her question. It goes completely unanswered, except for a rumble of light laughs. Poua finally adds, ~Which is why I say in the morning we pack up and go straight back. The quicker in, the quicker the kill, the quicker home.~ ~That would be foolish,~ Is Maenth's answer. ~They outnumber us one hundred to one, even with our brother and sisters here. I say we wait. We can shelter here. They may not find us, and with our combined talents, I think we could find another way home. Once there, with all our power, they would fall like flies.~ Poua bares her teeth to show how much she dislikes that plan. Sharduhm is sullen and quiet, still smarting from his wounds and not quick to add opinion or argument. Osha, as well does not seem to have an opinion. The Little One stares back at Ayita, unblinking. The Uktena's picking makes her smile though.
Reflection shakes his head at his brother, the look in his eyes truely showing he somehow feels this way about the giant. After eyeing Sharduhm's wounds, rests his hand upon his shoulder. ~You will know Gaia's light, and be healed of the burdens of war.~ He says as a healing light pours through his arm, out of his hand and directly into the wounds.
Runner's ears swing back against her head at the laughter, looking confused and then to the little one for another head-quirking contemplative moment. ~How did you become separated from home?~ she asks the group.
Long-Suffering just sits there, making a funny face at the Little One, although she is also paying close attention to the questions being asked by her packmates.
Sharduhm's eyes widen as Reflection's healing touch relieves some of his pain--if not all of it. The great giant of a garou rumbles his thanks to Reflection, a pleased and proud look in the brute's oddly gentle eyes. the Little One seems amused by Ayita and smiles, her eyes shining. she mimics the young Uktena warrior in a game of copycat. The strange umbral night passes quickly, but for all it's brevity each passing moment restores the garou as if they were resting and sleeping for a much longer time. It does not take long before they feel refreshed. It is Osha that answers Runner. ~It does not truly matter, sister. What matters is that for now the Little One is safe. In truth, home is really wherever she is. Therefore I suggest we do not make any rash headlong attacks. I say we go along the moon path you were on. It may yet reveal something useful.~ The others, all, object. ~That is rash and dangerous. we do not know what the universe holds out there. It may put the Little One in danger,~ Sharduhm says. ~I say we stay right here. This glade is a good place. I can feel it healing us. The Little One would do well here, with our guidance. We could create a stronghold against the forces of the enemy that would make them shake with fear.~ Poua has different ideas. ~We are strong,~ she says. ~If we are intelligent, and careful, we have the endurance and ability to make our way through the enemy. Yes, they are numerous and powerful, but with a careful route, we could pick our battles. Take them on one small group at a time, until we'd reached our destiny. Together, it could be done.~ And Maenth, still, has another plan. ~If we cloaked ourselves in the guise of the enemy, we could move through them and past. It could be done, easily, I think.~ The discussion grows heated.
Jamethon considers each opinion with vivid interest shown in his features, his gaze does stand up Sharduhm for a moment with the giant's words, but soon enough moves on to the others. Finally, James looks now to the little one, "Tell me, which idea do you like?"
Listening to the discussion coming heatedly, Runner holds up a claw. ~Wait, wait, brothers and sisters. There is no reason to start fighting amongst ourselves. Save your strength.~ She looks over to Osha, the one who answered her question. ~We were just in battle - not far from here. If we do not want the Enemy to track us to this place, then we must move.~ She looks to Sharduhm then. ~But as said, we /were/ just in battle. Rest and healing is good. We need some time to recover, but we are Garou. We are not meant to live completely in peace either. As you say, a stronghold can defend. But creating a stronghold would mean living in fear of being attacked. Always having to defend. It is paranoid.~ Then to Poua. ~And unfortunately, we have our strengths and weaknesses, all of us. Some are not as able to make their way through enemy territories as stealthily as others. We must be careful.~ It is Maenth's suggestion that draws her attention questioningly. ~How do you suggest such things done? And, if we are found out, in the middle of it, are you prepared for those consequences?~
Each of the four who have spoken look to each other in confusion as Reflection speaks to the Little One. They seem slightly dumbfounded and perhaps even irritated. The Little One merely stares back at Jamethon, mutely. Her expression does not change, and she makes no other obvious movement. Runner's slew of comments and questions are all met with approving nods from the four. Maenth answers her, ~Each of us has talents that others lack. And, yes, if we are discovered, I am prepared to fight, like any of you. I think it will work.~ Osha eventually gets to her feet. ~I,~ she says, addressing her fellow strange garou and planting her black staff in the earth almost commandingly, ~have decided that I will seek what lies beyond the darkness on the moon path. The Little One is safe in your hands, and I trust she will remain so. But I will go.~ Turning to the Walk Garou, she offers, ~You may come with me or stay and protect the Little One. It is up to you.~ Without waiting for word, she makes her way out of the small glade toward the moon path.
Long-Suffering listens to everyone. Then, looking to Jamethon, she asks ~What is your decision?~ Her eyes shift over to Runner.
Jamethon stands and looks to Osha, voice booming and holding some small potency, ~Your curiousity is admirable, Osha. But your path leads to nothing wise, or good. That way isn't... right. Not for the little one. If you are family, as you say, then you will remain and be here for her. The moon path has been there before, it will be there to satisify your curiosity later. Now is not the time for selfish acts. Act like the pack you, we, are.~ This said he doesn't wait to see if Osha will remain or continue on to potential folly, he looks back to his packmates, shares a glance with them as if in a triangle of thought and instinct, adding up to one intention. He nods, then looks to the alien garou, ~Is it this one place you seek, a piece of land that holds some /power/ that is important. Or the little one, your true home. The mother and daughter, that truely matters to you all?~
~To leave your brethren,~ Runner reminds Osha, ~and to go seek what lies beyond is brave, but forget not that we are best when together. Strength in numbers. The prey we hunt understand this, and so do we when we hunt them.~ She looks to Reflection and Long-Suffering both, before gazing after Osha a little longer in contemplation. Standing, the Gnawer howls after the departing one, ~Forget not this place, and return soon!~
Long-Suffering looks up at Fenrir. She considers what he has said, then bobs her head approvingly. ~I think the Fenrir's plan is the right choice,~ she retorts.
Osha does not respond to the urgings and proclamations of the Walk garou. Staff before footfall, she makes her way out without looking back or stopping. The other alien-garou watch those of the walk without even turning toward Osha. Sharduhm's thoughtful eyes consider Reflection's question. ~The Little One binds us. Both are precious. Away from Home, the Little One is weak and vulnerable. In time she may grow into a new power, here. But until then she is too weak to be of use. Stay and wait, and risk being overrun. But that is what I would do.~ Poua adds, ~Take the battle to the enemy--tooth and claw. Choose each battle wisely, yes, but make the long, weary run and reach home, where we--together--will be unstoppable.~ Maenth plants his staff in front of him, saying ~Or move even more directly, among the enemy. With cloaks and intelligent disguise, they will not even know we are there. And we reach home the soonest.~
Sharduhm's soft rumble adds, ~Each path has risks and potential rewards.~ Maenth and Poua both nod to the great warrior's words. Now, the three look to their three counter-parts, waiting.
Jamethon looks over the three and then to the little one, ~She is strong, and full of potential. She is home, and she is what matters. A piece of land only matters in that it is connected to /her/. And this land /can/ be. We must protect. Her and her land. If we have failed to protect that land, than we have failed our duties. We are not hunters, we are not seekers, we are not spies. We are Guardians. We stand and we guard so that the hunters, seekers, and spies can do what /they/ must do. Protect Gaia. Do not fail in this, and this pack has no need of Osha, Poua, or Maenth's plans.~ He steps forward to Sharduhm and reaches out his hand to rest it on the giant's shoulder, ~As you would have us do, so would we.~
Runner almost grimaces at Jamethon, her unease about his words evidenced by a glance to Poua and Maenth. ~Your plans suit the talents of those who can follow them. Your packmate, the little one, she needs as much time as we can buy for her to gain her own strength. With Osha gone, we rely on who is left, and ourselves.~ Maenth gets a wan smile. ~But you have other plans, you wish to go out to the Enemy's territory and walk amongst them. But Maenth, doing so when there is the little one and your packmates injured? That is not the wisest of plans, for the enemy seeks weaknesses.~ And she looks to Poua. ~And your plan is courageous, fierce one. I would go with you in a heartbeat, but my heart now says to stay. I stay with the pack, and guard.~
Poua's muzzle wrinkles in defeat, and Maenth's hackles rise. As the pack turn to Sharduhm, the other two alien-garou fade into wisps of blue-grey smoke that are taken into the yellow-green umbral sky by the light wind. The Little One also disappears, but her exit is a little more dramatic. Her wide, staring eyes drift closed, and she literally melts into the earth beneath their feet. Immediately, there is a warmth that invades the garou from the feet up, transcending any earthly bliss they've ever felt. Sharduhm's countenance grows proud. The giant lifts himself to his feet, and in the way of dreams it seems he does not stop growing. The image of a garou fades, as does the bristly, boar-like fur and tusks. The wind suddenly picks up, carrying dust and particals. For a moment it's hard to see. What emerges from that, with a rumble like distant thunder is the shaggy, lumbering image of a bear. The pack immediately also notice they stand at the heart of their own caern umbra.
The Songkeeper, again, nods with her packmate's words. There is really nothing else for her to say. The Uktena stands up, shaking her fur, as the ground fades around them. Her ears perk, swiveling towards her packmates. Her eyes blink, looking confused as she realizes that they are within their own caern and then when she sees that Sharduhm is the representation of bear.
Jamethon takes a deep, yet halting breath at the sensation, his fingers spread rigidly. As the dust kicks up he stands stoic, peering through intently for what he will see. He nods, as he sees Bear, and finishes that breath from before, his exhaling spinning the dust in the air before him about. ~Bear. I've... been waiting for you for sometime. Brings-The-Buffalo-Home would be proud. Together, we will be sure that the little one will never need fear losing her home.~
Runner, as much as her eyes go wide when the fifth melts into the ground, closes her eyes when the feelings of warmth seep into her. In the moments that follow, she carefully slides her eyelids back open to find the familiar view of the Hidden Walk caern's umbra there. A sigh of relief follows with a gasp at the sight of the bear-spirit. Runner sneezes, and blinks at the changed Sharduhm.
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