August 2007 Moot
8/31/2007
06:00 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
From Bawn: Western Forest, Demons can be heard to howl, ~Warning! No weaver at Moot! No weaver allowed at Moot!~
Center of the Caern
This is the central point of the 30-meter-wide clearing. The ground is a mixture of dark, rich, muddy soil mixed with clay, though there is an occasional patch of grass. At the center rests a large white boulder, immovable even by the strongest crinos. The boulder is shot through with streaks of quartz that produces scintillating colors when light strikes it just right. It is, for lack of a wholly adequate word, beautiful.
Around you, twenty yards in every direction, stretches the caern. To the southeast, a waterfall plummets over the edge of the chasm into a small pool in the caern; nearby, to the southwest, steam comes from cracks in the ground, perhaps some of the same water. Northwest, a rocky spar juts out of the ground at a low angle, showing a sloping but smooth top. The chasm walls narrow a bit to the northeast, causing some of the mist to swirl in that area.
Contents:
Vera (Culls-the-Herd), Jamethon (Reflection), Kaz (Ears), Lefty (Ferret), Moon Otter, Reggie (Snakepatcher), Stacey (Moonwalker), Yi (Runner), Abraxas (Bitter-Harvest), Alesia (Demons), Basil (Bad-Penny), Kenneth (Far-Cry), Lara (Sun Clencher), Masao (Leaves-None), Morgan (Song-of-Luna), Olga (Fat-Ripper) Salem (Scar), Timothy (Hunter), Adalyn (Learns-Quickly), Casey (Fire-Eyes), Melodie (Ankle-Biter), Jo (Bruiser), Matt (Found); [NPCed: Jonathan (Lune-Calmer, by Yi), Coriander (Tenderfoot, by Stacey), Lizard (by Ankle-Biter), Squeaks (Sees-Too-Far, by Olga)]
Obvious exits:
Rock Slab Windy Spot WaterFall Steam Vents
Kaz clambers down the trail from up above, and drifts toward Reggie and Morgan. "Hey hey," she mutters. "Gang's all here."
Learns-Quickly walks rather ungracefully to the center of the caern. She pauses to look at all present. Realizing that none of her own tribe is present just yet (at least to her own knowledge) she finds a place by herself.
Ankle-Biter wags her tail. ~Yup! Been practicing my speaking for this.~ She seems full of excited energy.
Fire-Eyes follows behind Lara in lupus, staring around at all the others and trying to take them in as his ears keep focusing his attention on different places. A new Uktena with hazel eyes.
Salem's ears flick as he observes the comings-in; his attention focuses sharply on Hunter as the other Walker comes over. His greeting is polite but brief, marked with a note of quizzicalness as he does not recognize the other.
Bitter-Harvest moves a little further in, though not much. He picks out his own little patch to brood on, rather distant from anyone else, and settles there.
Sun Clencher murmurs something quietly to Fire-Eyes.
Song-of-Luna's greeting of Kaz is considerably less reserved. She wags her tail again, sniffing. Ears-rhya! Hello.
Bad-Penny turns when he hears someone approaching, his ears splayed out on the side of his head until he recognizes the wolf. Bad-Penny nuzzles the face of the other lupine, then gives her muzzle a few quick licks in greeting or in play.
Fire-Eyes stays close to Sun Clencher for a moment, looking up to her and listening, then bobs his head and surveys the others. Hello... still shyly, trying to identify the other cubs at first.
Leaves-None's tongue lolls from the side of her muzzle briefly as she noses fondly at Bad-Penny in return. Settling herself down by him, she cants her ears towards some of the young and new faces she sees about.
Kaz doesn't actually try and do anything like scritching Bug; she just grins at her, and nudges Reggie in greeting.
Moonwalker stops once she's found a decent spot within the center, then sits, surveying the interaction amongst the others and growling softly to the cub beside her.
Moon Otter emerges quietly from the woods and makes his way into the throng of garou gathering in the center. He immediately picks his way closer to the Shadow Lords present. In passing, his eyes take in the new and unfamiliar garou.
Vera makes her way into the Caern, mere steps behind Moon Otter.
Sun Clencher points out Ankle-Biter, among others.
Hunter gives a quiet chuff to Salem and raises to the warform, arms crossing on the powerful frame. ~Heart-of-the-Hunter. Warrior of the Glass Walkers, master-of-arms, and son of the wise Adren Philodox, Catches-The-Flag of the Steel Angel. At your service, sir.~
Anvilhead lumbers in and makes his way toward Moon Otter and Vera, tail wagging low as he kowtows to the higher-ranked Shadow Lords.
Snakepatcher circles around Song-of-Luna, and enthusiastically greets Kaz with a body-slam on her knees, his tail wagging.
Bitter-Harvest's attention shifts as Moon Otter arrives. He eyes the other Shadow Lord with fairly obvious apprehension, though he doesn't make any obvious signs of greeting. Vera receives only a little less scrutiny.
Salem tips his head up as Hunter shifts up, then slowly rears onto his hind legs to join him in that form. ~Good, good. We need to talk. After the moot, of course.~
Learns-Quickly lifts her head to find the rest of her tribe has settled in and /she's/ still by herself! The Lord cub scampers excitedly to the rest of the group through the crowd but remembers to contain herself amongst her elders. Head low, she approaches, tail wagging.
Kaz oofs and stumbles backwards, before crouching down and giving Reggie something which is half scritch, and half hug.
The blue covered lupus detaches herself after a few moments from her packmates, making her way with faintly nervous steps toward the place of the Caller. Once she reaches it, she shifts abruptly upward into her birth form, and grips the glyph covered stick in one of her larger, un-deformed hands.
Song-of-Luna howls long and loud.
From Center of the Caern, Song-of-Luna can be heard to howl, ~Garou of the Hidden Walk! Come to the Caern, it's time to Moot!~
Hunter dips his head in understanding and acceptance, his posture the picture of a Noble Knight awaiting orders... with an edge no Arthurian legend ever quite had. This accomplished he turns and looks towards the proper center of the Caern, awaiting the 'festivities'.
Bad-Penny lays down right beside Leaves-None, resting his head quietly near one of the Ragabash's paws. Though his eyes are closed, his ears remain pricked up and swivel every so often to catch various sounds.
Bitter-Harvest's scrutiny shifts from Vera and Moon Otter to Anvilhead. The fur along the back of his neck lifts a little. He stays put though.
Demons scans the crowd, her eyes checking each garou in turn, searching for something it seems.
Leaves-None stretches herself out a bit in a reclining pose, crossing those paws by her tribemate's head and raising her own to watch and listen alertly.
Moon Otter gives Learns-Quickly a brief pat of greeting on the head before moving outwards towards the traditional spot claimed by The Fool for the moot. Vera gets a passing ~rhya~ in respect.
Salem's ears skew a bit as he eyes Hunter, head cocked to favor his good eye, and then he settles into a crouch, ears flicking up again.
Found makes his way in, even a bit late before making his way on over towards his tribemates.
Fire-Eyes looks up and catches the latest arrival of Found on the way in, and pads off from Sun Clencher's side to try and catch him before he joins the rapidly forming groups. Hi!
Learns-Quickly squishes herself in with the other Lords, greeting each accordingly with their rank. Where's he going? The cub looks to Vera, not knowing the other well enough to ask questions.
Snakepatcher leans against Kaz. His ears perk as he listens to Song-of-Luna's announcement.
Kaz thunks into a seat, once Morgan howls.
Song-of-Luna licks her muzzle. She still looks a tiny bit nervous, but that seems to dissolve as she lifts her nose to the sky and howls again. No words this time--just a long, loud, rough howl, inviting others to do the same.
Anvilhead settles down in Shadow Lord Corner, tongue lolling. He pants heavily, in big loud doggy huffs, drool collecting and dripping off his jowls.
Sun Clencher joins in willingly, gleefully, howling out the full moon and the sensation of the night.
Kaz just pumps her fist.
Ankle-Biter barks out a hello to Bruiser, over here! She's sitting with Rises Above the Demons in the Fury seats.
Found looks over to Fire-Eyes, and gives a soft whuff, sniffing a bit. He does look a bit confused though, eyeing Fire-eyes all over.
Moonwalker nudges the cub with her, then shifts up into Crinos as she joins in the howl. Tenderfoot follows her example, adding her more timid voice to the rest.
After making his way around the caern's perimeter, the Truthcatcher for tonight arrives with a large bone over his black-furred shoulder. Far-Cry strides into the caern, to take up a spot not far from the Children of Gaia, where he leans in to rumble something at Moonwalker. A tense look is sent skyward at the moon. After that, he finds his way to the rock slab, where he observes the proceedings and sniffs about in silence.
Lune-Calmer also slips his way in to the caern after the announcement howl is made and finds a spot to stand quietly. A crinos claw fingers the proportionately sized bow strung around his shoulder.
Runner dissolves into view from the other side of the Gauntlet by the caern's waterfall, shaking off some water from her fur and dispelling her gift which blurs her outline to others. The Hispo'd Gnawer fostern gives her fur a shake before looking in the crowd's gathered direction.
Learns-Quickly throws her head back and also joins in the howl, loud and passionate.
Vera settles into a sitting position, offering Learns-Quickly a warm smile as she places a hand on Anvilhead's massive shoulder. "He goes to play the Fool."
Bruiser sniffs around a little, before spotting the other Furies. Ankle-Biter gets a quick little chuff, and she pads unobtrusively towards the other cub.
Bad-Penny sits up slowly on his front paws, scooting up bit by bit until he can join in on the howling.
Leaves-None tilts her head towards the sky to let her own high-voiced howl join the surrounding discord.
Salem rises to his full height and lifts his muzzle to join the howl, his voice loud and thunderous. Even louder, though, is Anvilhead, who bays out in a canine song full of froth and fury.
[To Moonwalker: Far-Cry greets with a ~Big moon tonight. They say there's going to be an eclipse.~ The wariness in his tone about it shows, but after that he says nothing more before moving away.]
Hunter throws his crossed arms down to his side, claws balled up in fists and tilts his head back to release a powerful and dischordant howl, lower pitched and nearly rumbling with a bass that is rarer... and less pleasing to the ear, than most.
Ankle-Biter joins in the howl, enthusiastic and high-pitched, clearly thinking this is fun!
Fire-Eyes glances all over Found and sniffs back at him. Hi? He gets a little confused, too...but the howls distract him, and he runs back to Sun Clencher to join in the howls from closer to his own tribe.
Bitter-Harvest leaves off eyeing the other gathered Shadow Lords. He stands and adds his own howl; loud and deep and angry.
[Demons pages to the room: Alesia is doing sense wyrm. Please let me know or a wizard know if you are so they can let me know if you want identity secret. :)]
Moonwalker tenses slightly as Far-Cry approaches her, listening to his words. There's a lingering wariness in her posture as he moves away, her gaze following him for a moment before lifting to the sky, her own howl having long drifted into silence as a result.
Demons sniffs and eyes the gathering. She seems tense and her usual spear is missing. She doesn't seem to want to stand still, moving slowly around, but staying mostly close to the Fury cubs.
Found sniffs Fire-Eyes a moment more, before finding a place to flop his fuzzy butt down. Well, he's alone where he lay, his tail curled around his side.
Once the howls have begun to die down, Song-of-Luna lowers her head for a moment, as if gathering breath for another. She doesn't howl this time; instead, she straightens up again and says, ~The Warder has asked that everyone stay in non-human forms for the entire moot.~ This announcement complete, she allows yet another moment for that message to sink in before she raises her voice and clenches her 'story stick' between both of her natural hands. ~Garou shall not mate with Garou!~
Moon Otter's stance and demeaner runs completely contrary to how the Fool is almost always portrayed. There's no humor at all: instead, there is tremendous conviction and fire. Fanaticism taken to the extreme. ~The law is clear, yet among us--even now--are a few who will argue that there are things that do not count as mating because no metis will be born. Using protection, males with males, females with females. These are the arguments of the weak and foolish who would drag you all down with them. It is *wrong* to mate in any way, shape, or form. We all know this. But I ask you this....~ The Shadow Lord elder points towards the garou gathered in the center of the caern, finger moving slowly to single out every single garou present, each in turn. ~How much wyrm taint is too much? How much taint do you find acceptable within your septmates? Your tribemates? Yourself?~ The accusing finger is lowered as Otter continues. ~This is the very first law in the litany, and thus the most important law for the garou to obey,~ the ragabash claims, pausing to let this statement sink in. ~The spirit of this law is clear: there is to be *nothing* between yourself and your fellow garou. Not only should there be no mating even when there is no possibility of a metis, there should also be no touching, no hugging, no kissing. To those who have even *looked* at another garou or *thought* of what it might be like to have the other as a mate, you are *just* *as* *guilty* as if you had sired or birthed a metis.~ Moon Otter emphasizes each of his three final words. ~You. Are. Corrupt.~ He falls silent, eyes staring fire at the gathered garou as if daring anyone to deny the words and convictions of The Fool.
Two Crinos, greatly different in size, claw their way down through the easy caern's easy paths. Their coats are clean but stringy and unremarkable, their gait is steady and purposeful - until the howl rings out, and expedience forces them to abandon what little decorum they had about them and scramble quickly down the path. The larger - Fat-Ripper - is the first to force her pace into a lope, while the smaller, a creature unknown to most of those assembled, follows a few seconds after, with a confused start. She trails behind her a five foot tail, python-sized and cumbersome, covered with the grime of the trail and with coarse bristles. The pair are headed towards Bad-Penny and Leaves-None, steadfastly ignoring any stares, eyes ahead, when the howling of the first law catches them by surprise, and they stop where they are, at the clearings furthest outskirts. They say nothing.
Kaz falls into crinos just after Morgan's announcement; possibly it's a reaction to the order, possibly it's a silent testament to what being a Metis means. ~Mating is mating,~ she says. ~Packing is packing. I do not accept your argument.~
Sun Clencher says, ~Thoughts are not deeds. Deeds are what matter. And there are far too many of those deeds, in these times.~
Bitter-Harvest doesn't offer anything terribly constructive. Moon Otter's first remarks only inspire a snarl from him, an angry, frothy snarl that is certainly not actually directed at the Fool himself, though he quiets down to listen to the twist his tribe mate is putting on this argument.
Found keeps himself really quiet at the moment, ears folded back, as if rebuked.
Ankle-Biter's ears go back at the chastisements, not really understanding the point of the exercise.
Bad-Penny lays down after his howl is finished, a small glance of irritation given in the direction of Morgan when she makes her announcement. Once the Fool starts to speak, Bad-Penny puts his head back down on the ground and stares blankly ahead like a bored Bloodhound stuck on a porch.
Salem, who'd been standing tensely still when the first law of the Litany was called, skews his ears backwards, clearly not expecting Moon Otter's tactic and, it must be said, not approving much. He utters a low, disgruntled growl.
Hunter considers this arguement from Moon Otter in seething silence until a few others have chimed in. ~Your words paint a picture of a bleak world for the Garou and Gaia, where Gaia's love that is shared with all her creation is denied because it is to be feared. No! Embrace her! To obey the first law, one does not have to forsake her as you would have us do, fool.~
Fire-Eyes stares, laying down, a lupus-form caricature of deer-in-the-headlights from near the other Uktena. Moots are very big, and very loud.
Song-of-Luna listens to Moon Otter with perked ears, before glancing toward the gathered Garou. She spots Bad-Penny's reaction, it's there, clear on her face, and for a moment she too, looks rather rebuked. Then her eyes narrow and she stands straight, growling, ~Fools have more than one way of twisting the laws!~ She spreads her lower set of arms, in all their grotesque glory, fingers only slightly curled. ~Garou shall NOT mate with Garou!~
Far-Cry snaps his jaws at the Fool, snorting out, ~Even harder still, to police the very thoughts of every Garou. How do you expect that to happen? Do you expect that we turn to a hive mind, where each thinks and feels alike? Or perhaps, that we feel nothing at all.~
Moonwalker growls at the Fool's words. ~You would blur the lines between mating and friendship. I also do not accept your argument! Following your path would lead to such distance and paranoia, we would all succumb to Harano!~
Learns-Quickly seems to prance in place at the words of the Fool and her eyes glance to both elders near her, as if nervous to say what she'd like to say. Finally she barks, ~Extremes of the law will never work. It's about balance!~
Snakepatcher growls at the Fool. Touching is not mating. Only bad touch is. No bad touch!
Leaves-None's posture stiffens slightly as she listens to the words, the Ragabash restraining herself from commenting beyond much more than a low growl. Her attention is riveted enough that she barely catches the approaching sounds of the two Gnawers behind her and Bad-Penny and certainly is too preoccupied to acknowledge their presence just yet.
Kaz coughs at Reggie.
~/Every/ law of the litany is important!~ howls out Runner loud as she can, stomping a forepaw on the dirt.
By the waterfall, Reflection remains in his apparently fervant prayers, silent and stoic by the waterfall in anticipation of his role to come.
Song-of-Luna waits until the responses have begun to die away, though not so long as to leave silence in their wake. She continues down the laws, appearing to gather steam with each one called and each Fool response, getting more into the ritual as they go. ~Do not eat the flesh of humans!~
The ultra-conservatist, ultra-traditionalist interpretation of the Litany continues as Otter tackles another tenet. ~We all know it is wrong to eat the flesh of the humans. Of this, there is no question. But I ask you this....~ The Shadow Lord elder points towards the garou gathered in the center of the caern, finger moving slowly to single out every single garou present, each in turn. ~How much wyrm taint is too much? How much taint do you find acceptable within your septmates? Your tribemates? Yourself?~ The accusing finger is lowered as Otter continues. ~We forbid the humans' phones from being in the caern. We forbid the humans' cigarettes. Yet we allow human food brought in to this caern? What madness is this?~ Otter asks the assembled. ~When humans work to make food, sometimes pieces of skin fall off. Sometimes a finger is pricked and a drop of blood falls into the meat. Sometimes a hair falls into the packaged vegetables. Sometimes they even spit their foulness into drinks. Sometimes even fingertips are sliced off and lost in the machines used to make the tainted food of the tainted humans who destroy Gaia each and every day.~ The accusing finger comes up again, pointing again at all the garou present. ~Most of you eat these foods grown, packaged, and prepared by humans with no thought as to how you defile yourself--and through yourself, Gaia. Each day you eat food made by humans, you eat just a little bit of the humans. Over time, you might as well have eaten a finger, a hand, an arm, a leg, a head, or a whole human. You,~ the finger stabs vaguely and all-encompassingly at the collected garou, ~are guilty of breaking this law each time you eat this tainted human food.~ Moon Otter emphasizes each of his three final words. ~You. Are. Tainted.~ He falls silent, eyes staring fire at the gathered garou as if daring anyone to deny the words and convictions of The Fool.
Sun Clencher says, dryly, ~Personally, I avoid this by not eating processed food. But it is nonetheless the /flesh/ of humans, the active and whole flesh of humans that this law is meant to address.~
Kaz says, stubbornly, ~Am not.~
Ankle-Biter thinks the fool-man smells funny! So there!
At the mention of human food in the caern, Snakepatcher paces around the caern, looking busily for food.
Found pauses a moment. One cannot eat two legger food. One cannot hunt on bawn. Will One starve?
Moonwalker growls more at this argument. ~Again, you would spread paranoia! This is why you are not a Philodox, Fool. Think of the intent, the purpose of the Law!~
Oncoming Storm wrinkles her nose, eyes narrowing. ~Wendigo eat only what the Ways tell us.~ Then adds, ~Grandmother tells us not to eat of humans, not that we should remain apart from them. We bear their children, we eat what they cook. That is not taint.~
~Picking at nits,~ Salem says, lips wrinkled up from his fangs like he smells something bad. ~That is not what our ancestors meant by that law.~
Demons growls, ~Now even human food is forbidden. They wyldings are upset, nothing of the weaver is allowed here now. You twist the words of the litany, you are a good fool, for your words twist the meanings but you lose the spirit of the litany. You forget the truth behind the rules. All of us are tainted with the rage of Gaia, this is not news. None of us is completely pure. But we must follow the rules and struggle to follow the laws of our kind.~
Hunter tilts his head now, seemingly at a loss for words at the fool's logic. He opens his muzzle to rebuff, then closes it. This repeats twice before he manages to choke out, ~We are here in the Caern, a place of the Wyld surrounded by warriors of Gaia. I welcome any to show that the Fool's words have merit by using the gifts to sense the Wyrm in me or any of us here! If there is none, the Fool is just a Fool!~
Leaves-None's lips curl back from her teeth and her ears lay back to her head. Bring deer to the two-leg food-places. Bring rabbits. We would hunt. Two-legs would hunt us. It is foolish.
Song-of-Luna's eyes flick briefly to Demons.
Bad-Penny sticks his nose briefly into Leaves-None's side when she speaks, then lays his head back down again and closes his eyes.
Ears mutters, also, ~And eatin' a fingernail ain't the same as goin' wild and eatin' the whole hog.~
Fat-Ripper and her ward have stayed very still, and it's obvious by the elder Garou's posture and bared, clenched fangs that she's having difficulty suppressing her disagreement and revilement. Slowly she stands back up, and bites back at him ~Funny how those most opposed to human things are those most likely to accidently snack on them.~ She moves towards Leaves-None and Bad-Penny, and sits, grumpily, down beside them, the metis always lagging just a few steps behind.
Song-of-Luna once again waits until the responses have started to die down, before she continues on. On and on, calling and argument and rebuking, until she comes to the next law, which is punctuated by stabbing the stick she carries at the sky. ~Respect for Those Below Ye in Station -- All Are of Gaia!~
The zealotrous Litany interpretation continues. ~Few among us would argue against other garou being treated with the respect they deserve. This is the law of the Garou and of Gaia. But I ask you this....~ The Shadow Lord elder points towards the garou gathered in the center of the caern, finger moving slowly to single out every single garou present, each in turn. ~How much respect is too little? How much respect do you give to your sept alpha? Your caern guardians? Your tribemates? Your septmates?~ The accusing finger is lowered as Otter continues. ~All are of gaia.~ Pause. ~*All.*~ Pause. ~Not only should you treat your fellow garou and kin with respect, you should show an equal amount of respect to *ALL* things, for *ALL* things are of Gaia.~ The Fool pauses to let this assertion sink in. ~The metis and charach within this sept. The kin that protect and aid us at the edges of the bawn and within the cities. The few humans who unknowningly assist us. The large number humans who do absolutely nothing for us. The masses of humans who act against us unknowingly. The leeches who would lend us aid. The leeches who would avoid us and stay out of our way. The leeches who would act against us. The banes in the umbra. The Weaver that weaves its insanity across the face of Gaia. All of these things are of Gaia. All of them!~ The accusing finger comes up again, pointing again at all the garou present. ~The moment that you fail to pay as much respect to a fallen foe--or the bugs you trod upon coming to this moot--as you would pay to a fallen packmate, you have failed to respect *ALL* of Gaia. You have broken this law. You have been disrespectful to Gaia. And there is no greater heresy than disrespect for your mother. You,~ the finger stabs vaguely and all-encompassingly at the collected garou, ~are guilty of breaking this law.~ Moon Otter emphasizes each of his three final words. ~You. Are. Disrespectful.~ He falls silent, eyes staring fire at the gathered garou as if daring anyone to deny the words and convictions of The Fool.
Ears merely says, again, ~Am not.~
~Now you'd have us, what, scraping and grovelling to every mote and mite on the planet?!~ Salem snaps his jaws, teeth coming together with a harsh >click<. ~Are you /mad/?~
Sun Clencher says, growling slightly, ~If you show precisely the same respect to all, then there is no actual respect showed to anyone. It does not work that way.~
Fire-Eyes 's ears take on a sideways cant. But one who opposes Gaia can't be of Gaia herself!
Snakepatcher circles back to his original place by Ears, his search having been unsuccessful even among the Gnawers, and snarls at the Fool. All are not equal.
Ringtone says, ~Respect is shown in different ways. Respect for the creatures of Gaia looks different from the respect for a dangerous enemy.~
Demons snarls, ~Respect is NOT the same thing as submit. Respect is not the same thing as letting one live. I can respect that which I kill. I respect the deer I kill for food. I honor Gaia and the deer but I still kill it and I still eat the flesh and use the bones and fur after I am done.~
Despite the thoughts in her mind, the cub of grandfather thunder lets her tongue loll out in a bit of a smile and turns to Vera. ~I want to play that part, atleast once.~
Olga is silent at first, her anger turned to contemplation, as if trying decide if she might not agree with that one. The metis beside her watches the event with awe but no fear. Her amber eyes stare wide as saucers, and she pulls her rat's tail up onto her seated lap to stroke it like a small pet, scratching unconsciously, even nervously, at its flakey skin. ~You're right,~ Fat-Ripper eventually growls out. ~All deserve respect. Even fools. Which is why I still respect you, even as I do this to you.~ The Theurge then performs a particularly vile gesture known only to Bone Gnawers and perhaps a select few Ragabash.
Anvilhead is mainly confused by this high-minded sort of Fooling, but gamely barks and snarls his disagreement.
Leaves-None's ears tilt towards Fat-Ripper and her charge, then back to the calling. She evidences a minute bit of confusion before her posture eases a bit. The Ragabash rumbles an agreement with the older theurge and thumps the ground with her tail in amusement.
Moonwalker snarls at the first mention of leeches and her expression continues to darken, hackles raising, as the Fool continues, a low growl sounding in lieu of actual words. No, she doesn't agree.
Bad-Penny remains still and silent on the ground, paying little attention to the Fool or the responses themselves.
Runner snarls at the Fool quite suddenly at the mention of vampires. ~Those who are dead-but-not are not of Gaia, Fool! Leeches, bloodsuckers, call them what you will. They have no life beating in their hearts. They have no spirit flowing through their veins. They are Not! Of Gaia!~
Song-of-Luna continues, on and on and on. Her nervousness has disappeared, that trace of upset is gone, and by the end, there's a little something, a glint, a glimmer, something about her that is not usually there. She is, quite clearly, enjoying the part she is playing. As she comes to the end, the last law receives the most emphasis, and again she uses the stick, though this time she sweeps it about, as if to indicate the Caern around them. ~Ye Shall Take NO Action That Causes a Caern to Be Violated!~
The extemist take on the Litany comes to a conclusion. ~Not one single garou among us would argue with this law, for a caern is the most sacred--the most holy--aspect of Gaia and the Wyld combined. We are all protectors of the caern and would give our very lives to protect one. Any who would say otherwise.... May they be struck down and disembowled on this very spot at this very instant. But I ask you this....~ The Shadow Lord elder points towards the garou gathered in the center of the caern, finger moving slowly to single out every single garou present, each in turn, one last time. ~How much do you actually do to protect this caern? How much time do you give to patrol the bawn--if you give any at all? How much time do you spend teaching and training your fellow septmates--even the ones you do not like or respect? When the time comes to defend this caern, are *you* willing to have weaker, less effective garou standing at your side while *all* attempt to defend that which we claim to treasure most? Do you fail to share information that could potentially impact the bawn, caern, and sept with the guardians, the Warder, and the sept Alpha--the sworn defenders of this place?~ The accusing finger is lowered as Otter continues. ~When you do not share information, does that not affect the safety and security of the caern and sept? You might as well light fires on the bawn and in the caern in the dry season! When you do not stengthen your fellow septmates, you might as well give a fetish to the Black Spiral Dancers for their next attack! When you do not dwell on the bawn *every* *moment* of every day, you might as well have abandoned this entire sept when the attack comes--and you are resting comfortably in your home or within the scab! For the Wyrm has attacked this place many times in the past, and *will* attack again in the future. I ask you this: Where will you be when the enemy comes once again?~ The accusing finger comes up again, pointing again at all the garou present. ~Are you so foolish to believe the Wyrm will arrive on the bawn and then kindly wait for you to come from afar--to join the *true* garou that defend the caern day and night? The very second that this night is over and you go back to your homes in the scab, the very second your foot crosses over the bawn, look at where your back is pointed: the caern! You have turned your back on this caern and this sept!~ The ragabash nearly starts foaming at the mouth. ~The moment you take a single second of time for yourself, you have placed your own self above that of your septmates, your tribemates, your packmates, and the caern itself! You have taken time for yourself, because you feel you deserve it! Because you feel that somehow *you* are more important--more deserving--of a break than the guardians. The warder. The alpha. You and your *selfishness*, your lack of fortitude and your lack of commitment to this caern, this sept, and Gaia herself. You shirk your duty to Gaia and ask others to cover for you so that *you* *you* *you* can have *your* time to do things for *yourself*. *You*,~ the finger stabs with accusatory finality at the collected garou, ~are guilty of threatening this caern through inaction and your own sense of self importance and entitlement!~ Moon Otter pauses for a long beat, almost as if done, before he resumes once more and emphasizes each and every one of his three final words. ~You. Are. Negligent.~ He falls silent, eyes staring fire at the gathered garou as if daring anyone to deny the words and convictions of The Fool.
Ears says, ~Am not.~ Then she adds, ~I help protect the Caern in every action I do, even if it's not /at/ the Caern. I fight Wyrm, I seek it out, I teach cubs. All of those protect the Caern in the long term.~
By the waterfall, Reflection cannot help but turn from his prayers at this fool's calling and stands with narrowed eyes and perked ears, awaiting what will be said.
Ankle-Biter is just a cub! They won't let me be a Guardian yet!
Demons lets out a howl at the words of the fool. ~LIAR! I Patrol each day, long hours! I teach cubs, of many tribes! I teach any who ask! I spend every waking moment making this a safer place! YOU ARE WRONG!~ She seems to have taken this as a personal insult, her fur rising as she stands proud. ~I seek information, I share all I know, without hesitation. I work every moment I can to protect this place. I will give my life for this place!~
~Combat the Wyrm,~ growls Salem. ~Whereever it dwells. Whereever it breeds. To protect the caern, we must seek out the threats /outside/ the caern. We ignore the rest of Gaia at our peril. You think living in the city is /easy/? You've been out in the woods too long!~
Moonwalker growls in agreement with Kaz. ~Defense alone will not preserve us! We must also Combat the Wyrm where it Dwells! This is why some Guard, some seek the enemy. Some gather information, others share! We all help protect in different ways! THIS is what makes us a SEPT! Not just a group of Garou merely guarding our doorstep.~
Fire-Eyes's eyes narrow slightly, and he starts to wonder if he missed something. This time, the Fool sounded almost compelling.
Oncoming Storm growls, ears twitching angrily. ~Garou who follow the Ways protect this heart with every action. We must leave the caern to fight the Horned Serpent before it arrives in strength. Sitting here, doing nothing, while the Horned Serpent grows in strength will never protect Grandmother's Heart!~
Sun Clencher regards the Shadow Lord with a beady eye. ~I will be working to defend the Caern in the ways that I can. Which will include leaving it, at times.
When Moon Otter's pointing finger rests on her Fat-Ripper looks like she just might leap out and bite it off. The jocularity has left her voice: this assault strikes personally. ~Combat the Wyrm wherever it breeds, you supercilious ass-sniffer!~ she screams back at him, her voice distorted and gross. ~We leave the city alone and it will swell up like the tide and wash our Caerns away like sand! The same sand you big birds have your heads buried in!~ The metaphor loses a little power in translation, but still works.
Leaves-None pulls herself up out of her recline and paws restlessly at the ground. If one lives in mother's den, protects mother's den, and is ignorant of what is outside mother's den, one can not blame another for that. Her tail again thumps the ground, this time in annoyance.
~There are more effective ways to protect a caern than stuffing a bawn full of unmotivated, would-be Guardians whose strengths lie not in sitting on their tails waiting for the Wyrm to strike,~ Far-Cry growls. ~Plus, the philodox don't need the headache of so many Garou packed into one territory. It would be the worst Reality show in the history of Gaia.~
By the waterfall, Reflection , eventually, tilts his muzzle and calls out. ~To be a Guardian means many things, fool. You are right. To know and not to tell is an act empowering the Wyrm. But it is the Wyrm that must be stopped in the long run. Gaia that must be saved. The efforts of the Guardians will be /meaningless/ if brave, honorable, and wise Garou are not out there beyond the Bawn's borders fighting our enemies in /their/ territories while we remain behind, protecting ours from their attacks. There is a dual nature to /everything/ we are and do. This is but one of them. When you have something more useful to suggest about your fellow Garou, fool, come on back and try again.~ With this he turns back to the waterfall, returning to his prayers.
This time, Song-of-Luna waits until every last response has come to the Fool's argument, and then a moment longer, letting the quiet hang in the air for just that tiny space of time. Then she hefts her stick into one of her lower hands and steps down from the Caller's place, moving on all fours back to Ears and Snakepatcher. A glance is spared again in Basil's direction.
Moon Otter steps backwards, one step after the other, backing out of the caern as the gathered retorts to his Litany twisting symbolicly vanquish both his arguments--and the Fool as well. Black fur fades and blends in with the black shadows of the forest, slowly rendering the ragabash invisible.
Bitter-Harvest settles back onto his haunches. If a crinos can truly look thoughtful, the Metis Lord certainly does. He watches Moon Otter until the Ragabash is entirely out of sight.
Oncoming Storm regards Moon Otter warily, but with a degree of respect. Her arms cross over her chest as she turns her attention to the Warder.
Fat-Ripper snorts once in victorious satisfaction before leaning forward to whisper something at Bad-Penny, amusement once more creeping into her high-standing ruff. The metis by her watches the crowd: she has been silent and remains so, non-reactive and all-watching. She stares at each Garou in turn, but flinches away the second she gets a return glance.
Salem lets out a huff and settles back on his haunches, still somewhat riled, but impressed nonetheless.
Leaves-None shakes herself all over as if to shed her annoyance from her very pelt before easing back down into a tense recline.
Demons calms down a bit, but still looks irritated as she looks around then looks back to the Caller.
Song-of-Luna hunches down next to Ears and Snakepatcher. For all that she was enjoying the Calling, now that it's over she seems bizarrely melancholy. A rather un-stealthy glance toward Bad-Penny is made again, and then she turns her attention to the Moot itself.
Found finally and eventually moves to join Song-of-Luna, his tail tucked low for the moment.
Bad-Penny lifts one of his ears and opens his false eye to give the impression of a glance towards Olga. The Gnawer slowly shifts into Crinos and bows his head, speaking quietly back to her.
Leaves-None turns her head towards Fat-Ripper, ears perked, but relaxes at both the Theurge's mood and the response from the Ahroun at her side.
Song-of-Luna sniffs at Found as he approaches, and gives a low, faint chuff.
Snakepatcher nudges Song-of-Luna, asserting his approval of her performance, and sniffs at Found as the cub joins the group, then looks towards the Warder expectantly.
Despite the energy of the evening, the young Shadow Lord cub mumbles respect to the rest of her tribe and then tries to sneak out of those gathered without being noticed. Head and body low, Learns-Quickly begins to disappear into the background, her dark fur blending in perfectly.
Found chuffs back to Song-of-Luna, and quickly submits before looking to Snakepatcher a moment, tail still held low.
Ringtone stands somewhat nervously, shifting his weight from side to side. He turns, looking about the caern as though uncertain what is to come next.
By the waterfall, Reflection raises his arms to the sky as he stands at the waterfall's base, just out of range of the heaviest of the mist coming from it's crashing down into the pool below. ~The Hidden Walk, once the Wheel Renewned, once the Wheel is a place that the Wyld has shown to call it's home. Even the Wyrm has been here for a time, and yet we are home now. We have tasted blood and ash and tears... acid and silver and balefire. And yet we are still here! But the Weaver can /never/ call this place home! For then it will be gone to us forever. A web of steel and concrete... a building for their work, for their industry, for their unending poisons that serve the Wyrm no matter their purpose! Death first! We will never accept this!~ Here he turns from the waterfall, black soot spiked hair stark against somehow bright crimson eyes and he regards the Sept. ~Will we?!~
Sun Clencher snarls, ~No!~
Oncoming Storm roars, anger and defiance coming out in a howl rather than words.
Salem's eyes narrow. ~Neither the Weaver NOR the Wyrm will find a home here, Warder.~
Demons answers back, still on edge, ~No!~
Found howls his own reply ~NEVER!~
Ears growls, ~This place ain't changing any more than it has to.~
Far-Cry answers with a wordless snarl that echoes the defiance.
Runner howls out, ~Never Again will the Wyrm brood here!~
Hunter only roars back, a spitle filled, discomforting, and powerful sound of defiance.
Perhaps it's the amusement and the laxity of the howling, but Fat-Ripper raises her eyes to the bright stars before calling out dryly, ~Oh good Gaia. No. Of course not.~ There's abolutely no force in her words or posture.
Leaves-None adds in a simple wordless howl to join the chorus of responses.
Bad-Penny replies with all the enthusiasm of a child reciting the Pledge of Allegiance for the hundredth time at school : ~No.~
Ankle-Biter cheers along. ~Caern!~
Ringtone says, ~This is a place of Wyld, not Weaver. Not Wyrm. And Wyld it shall remain!~
Moonwalker growls defiantly. ~No! Never!~
Snakepatcher howls fiercely. ~Death first!~
By the waterfall, Reflection lets there be cries of defiance in their own ways from each of the Garou who would make them. Then he tilts his muzzle high, looking towards the stars above. ~Chimera! Guide and Guardian in your wisdom and knowledge! We your children are beset upon by enemies known and unknown! Lift for us the veil of confusion that plagues our thoughts and senses! We call to you in moot so that your Caern can remain strong and united. Chimera, lady of mirrors and visions, come forth, and guide us. We call to you!~ And with this, Reflection's already tilted muzzle bellows out in a loud and clear howl.
The Warder is answered at first with nothing more than the sounds of the hissing steam vents and cascading roar of the waterfall. Then one by one, the waterfall itself slows into visible, individual, shimmering droplets of water until the whole natural phenomenon silences as it comes to a stop. Not another drop of water falls onto the rocks below, and the caern is plunged into an eerie silence save for the hiss of the steam vents further around the wheel, and the howl of the wind at the windy spot. The shining drops then coalesce. They first form a shimmering globule of clear mass, but shifts into that of a giant, radially symmetrical creature of a disc-shaped body and many legs protruding from it. The Thing skitters along in a clockwise motion around the caern's wide clearing before stopping at the north-northwest direction, where it begins to head down a beeline path towards the caern's center. Three shadowy grey forms hover about it with blurry, almost lupine-like heads 'walk' beside it before seemingly out of nowhere, clouds of strobing, erratic colors manifest about and envelop the spidery looking spirit creature and the three wolven headed forms that turn black on contact. The whole thing plays out like a dance of light and shadow.
Sun Clencher gapes.
Fire-Eyes gapes, along with Sun Clencher. And not even in the Umbra...
Ankle-Biter watches, amazed. Her jaw literally drops, in danger of having bugs fly in.
Found ducks his ears as he sees it, tail held really close. He's sure not going near that.
Song-of-Luna stands, looking to Found and indicating that he should follow her lead. She howls, loud and rough as ever, her general mopery forgotten. ~Mirror Lady!~
Salem has seen unusual Totem appearances before, so his sense of amazement is minimal, but he watches the display with interest, ears perked and head cocked.
Found looks to Song-of-Luna, but does not hesitate, tilting his head back and giving out a loud howl, ~Mirror Lady! Awwoooo!~
Leaves-None sits very still, ears up sharply, watching the otherwise odd display with great interest.
Bruiser shakes out a little, sliding forward a bit as if protective of the smaller cub. Still, her eyes are as big as saucers.
By the waterfall, Reflection views this display in answer to the howls and after a look like something 'clicking' in his head, he points to the spirits and calls out, ~Watch! Watch! She would have us understand!~
Bitter-Harvest straightens, glancing at Reflection and then eyeing the figures with clear interest.
Olga's enthusiasm, her good mood and easy defiance, collapses completely before the thing's arrival. She's uneasy and awed, her ears flat against her head and her claws thick into the clay of the Caern floor. Squeaks, beside her, shows all interest and enthusiasm but no real perplexity: she has child's eyes, and to these this is no odder than the billion other things just on the cusp of making sense.
Ears narrows her eyes.
Oncoming Storm watches with tension appropriate to the moon, and an undercurrent of suspicion. She looks around the caern, eyes seeking but not finding someone in particular.
Hunter looks at first, a bit unfazed by the appearance of the spirit, aside from having offered his low-pitched howls and watching with interest. But when it starts towards the Caern he takes a few steps then stops, as if unsure if he should be intercepting the spirit. The appearance of the bright colors and the Warder's words are all that hold him still for now.
Demons watches, intently, tense... cautious, sniffing the air as she waits.
Bad-Penny keeps his eyes closed and his body rested, even though his ears remain up. He doesn't look as though he was sleeping as before, his expression showing a bit of concentration.
As the battle proceeds, some of the cloud spirits gradually fade away while others continue to 'fight'. Roiling end over end over each other, the clouds gather into an uneven mass before separating again. The three black wolven forms speed away from the symmetrical spidery spirit and fly swiftly in and out, bobbing and weaving, amongst the crowd of Garou. The three smoky black breakoffs come to a halt amongst the gathering, disappearing from view right over the heads of the Glass Walkers that have come to the moot. The spidery spirit in the center leaps high into the air. The colorful clouds trail after it in a whirlwind and catch up. At the moment of contact, the entire meeting bursts, casting a shimmering spider-type firework display to suspend into the night air, each bit glittering like an individual, tiny mirror that forms a circle around the full moon. The night is left with a tense, but electric feel that stands hackles up at the backs of necks, like the feeling of being Watched. The Wyldlings disappear. The waterfall suddenly resumes its unending cascade down, adding back the familiar roar of the water and rocks.
Ankle-Biter says softly, ~caern.~
Snakepatcher studies the apparitions with interest, twisting and turning to watch their dance.
Song-of-Luna's ears are straight up, and she watches the show keenly, hardly bothering to blink. There's no apprehension in her form at all.
Ears says, ~Whoa.~
Salem's mismatches eyes narrow suddenly, his hackles rising. Apparently, he's found some meaning in the spirit-display. His hands open and close slowly, and those close to him might hear the Walker Elder mutter something under his breath.
Found pauses a moment, then looks to Song-of-Luna. Is Walkers. They fight weaver in caern. You saw burnt walker cubs.
Ringtone moves toward his elder, crinos brow furrowed and ears turned outward.
By the waterfall, Reflection has watched the display with open and eager eyes. When it is all done, he is looking for a good while at the point of explosion, jaw clenched. Then, well after the conclusion, he turns his head towards the Glass Walkers which the Wolf-Spirits have marked. With balled fists, through those clenched teeth and his rage-filled stare he growls, ~The Inner Sky is open, let us moot.~
Bitter-Harvest follows the progress of the battling spirits, and eyes Salem at his reaction, before sweeping his gaze around to study the reaction of the other Garou.
Song-of-Luna lifts a hand to Found. ~No talking,~ she says, very, very quietly.
Oncoming Storm snarls, rage barely kept in check. She turns, looking away from the rest and takes several slow, deep breaths, before turning her attention to the raised dais of stone.
By the slab of rock, the waiting Far-Cry casts one more look skyward at the shimmering lights before he proceeds to climb up and bring the large, bleached leg bone up above his head, each end held between his claws. ~Garou of the Hidden Walk, tonight we honor the land we were made from. Honor the dust beneath your paws, the air in your chest, and the light in your eyes. Celebrate your kin and kind, those who have come and gone. Before Chimera, Gaia, and Luna,~ he pauses with a look to each one, ~let us Crack the Bone, and find the marrow within! Speak True and in the Tongue of the Mother, or else ye dare to brave the bloodied waters of those who would be foolish enough to deceive and mock us.~ He cracks the bone in two, sharply against the slab of rock before holding the ends out. ~Let those who would join our gathering step forward! Reveal yourselves beneath the witness of the moon!~
Olga watches the play intently, while Squeaks pays it intent glances before looking instead to the assembled Garou and at the waterfall from which it springs. She strokes her tail, but otherwise remains still. Fat-Ripper snorts a few times in contemplation before answering Found, when the display finishes, with a sullen ~I disagree,~ though she doesn't expound any further.
Sun Clencher nudges Casey.
Sun Clencher then snarls at both Fianna and Gnawer.
Fire-Eyes looks at Sun Clencher and blinks a little , then looks up to Far-Cry for permission.
Leaves-None's ears sort of fall backwards after watching the display, not held back but sort of limp. Giving her head a vigorous shake and looking away from the sky, she intently turns her attention to the Cracking.
Song-of-Luna eyes Sun Clencher with sudden extreme wariness, the fur along the back of her neck hackling. It's clear she has no idea what that snarl was about.
Sun Clencher mostly seems to have been concentrating on Found and Olga.
Olga answers Sun Clencher with a few seconds of consideration, lips only barely ajar. She doesn't say anything further, but in frustration drums her fingers lightly and anxiously against the top of Squeaks' head. The metis puts up with the abuse admirably.
Largely silent but participating at points throughout the beginning of the moot, a Silver Fang metis theurge steps up to take the bones from the Truthcatcher. ~I am Lune-Calmer, knife-moon of the First Tribe, Cliath and Metis. I have completed my chiminage, and hence join you amongst the Hidden Walk as one of your own. Thank you.~ He nods once and hands off the bone before stepping back.
Far-Cry takes the bones next, waiting for the next Garou who comes up to hand the bones to them.
Moonwalker straightens with interest as Lune-Calmer moves forward, her posture showing a good deal of approval at his announcement.
His steps at first hesitant, but with growing confidence, the sleek, black form of the crinos Glass Walker makes his way to the side of the Truthcatcher. Taking the bones he turns to face the crowd. He stands still for a moment, looking out at the assembled garou, then nods, apparently to himself. ~I am Ringtone of the Glass Walkers. Galliard. I arried only recently but I have completed my chiminage and am pleased to be counted as a member of the Sept of the Hidden Walk.~ He bows ever so slightly, and hands the bones back to the philodox before stepping down.
Ears shoots Kavi a thumb's up.
Moonwalker gives Kavi a more curious, although no less approving look at his introduction.
Having finally adapted to all the sights and sounds just witnessed, the Uktena cub rises and steps forwards, closes his eyes and shifts up from lupus to crinos. ~My name is Casey Seyet, also called Fire-Eyes, and I am a Philodox cub of the Uktena.~ He seems suddenly proud; exuberant to be standing up and addressing this group that he hasn't seen before, but seems to be holding his tongue from saying any more. He steps back again quickly.
Sun Clencher beams at her tribe's cub.
Moonwalker perks her ears at that, her gaze sliding toward Sun-Clencher and the other Pure Tribes present before returning to the Cracking.
Oncoming Storm gives Casey a pleased look, licking her muzzle as he steps down.
Leaves-None tilts her head one way or another listening to the introductions with an air of otherwise polite interest.
Hunter offers a proud nod at Ringtone's introduction, and then is rather neutral in comparison to Fire-Eyes' speaking.
Fat-Ripper's fingers move from Squeaks' skull towards the back of her head, giving the metis a gently reassuring nudge, grumbling softly in the cubs ears as she sends her forward. The grey-furred Crinos, not even six feet tall, scurries towards the centre of the clearing, her movements hurried and awkward, her tail trailing behind her, leaving a solid line in the soft clay. She takes the bones from Far-Cry with a self-conscious glance up at the looming Shadow Lord and gets to the centre. Whereas before the creature had merely looked interested, staring out at the proceedings with a kind of distanced aplomb, now that she is in the centre of them she freezes. She looks up, her orange eyes round, and her voice sticks in her throat. Seconds of silence threaten to roll over into minutes.
Ears makes an encouraging kind of noise.
Moonwalker remains silent, but offers an encouraging look to the little Metis.
Hunter can't seem to help but stare wordlessly, though at least with a continually neutral expression, at the metis' "tail".
Song-of-Luna leans forward, suddenly watching Squeaks very, very intently.
Leaves-None thumps her tail against the ground a few times in an attempt at -quiet- encouragement, fidgeting a little in place.
Salem, who'd given Ringtone an approving nod, looks amused at the young Metis; this leaks through the aura of rigid tension that otherwise surrounds him.
Ankle-Biter looks very nervous, knowing her turn is coming up.
When the young metis looks like she's gotten stage fright, Runner adds to Ears' encouragement with a rough 'Go On' chuffle at Squeaks from afar.
Far-Cry waits, though he starts to scratch his claws against the stone. His tongue licks at his chops as teeth tips reveal under flickering lips.
Lune-Calmer, having done his introduction, looks sympathetic but distant.
Eventually the metis gets her body low, as if to struggle out from beneath everyone's eyes, and she speaks, though her voice is strained and rushed. It comes out in a strenuous squeaking sound, like a bunch of dog toys stuffed in a blender, as she chokes out ~I am Sees-Too-Far, Bone Gnawer Theurge, and -~ and that's as far as she gets, as with a final, wordless squeak she dashes back towards the Bone Gnawers and the safety of the sidelines. Fat-Ripper, who waits for her there, is not pleased, and her fur stands from her like bristles, as she leans in on the cub and gathers her up in her arms. Her anger is palpable.
Ears adds, ~Unchanged cub,~ with vast sympathy.
Song-of-Luna continues to watch Squeaks for a time, even after she's fled back to the Gnawers.
Oncoming Storm's expression, watching Squeaks is more disappointed than disapproving, but both are present.
Bad-Penny opens his eyes when he hears the silence and looks up at the Metis in the center of attention. The blackened Gnawer's lips tug into a hint of a smile, and he lifts his paw to wave at her and to make the 'talk' motion. When she suddenly darts back, Bad-Penny rises up and moves to sit right beside Olga instead of Masao, and leans in to murmur something quiet and reassuring.
Salem utters a low, rumbling chuckle, very briefly.
Fire-Eyes gives the metis a look that he thinks is sympathetic, and nods to her.
Oncoming Storm bares her teeth in Casey's direction.
Ankle-Biter steps forward nervously, and recites, as if rehearsed, ~I am Melodie Rodriguez, Ankle-Biter. I am Philodox, and I am Black Fury, and I am a Cub, and I belong to this Sept!~ She looks a little overwhelmed by all the attention as she reaches the end of her speech. ~And, um, I like the Litany, and I eat meat.~ She stumbles back to her place with the Furies.
Song-of-Luna looks rather abruptly disturbed for a moment, as if someone had stuck a needle into her, and she pulls her attention back to the Moot itself, shoulders hunched.
Ringtone tenses at Melodie's introduction, jaw clenching as he turns his eyes from her.
Demons blinks at Ankle-Biter's add on comment, frowning just a tad then but as the cub returns to the place she gives a little nod, not being too harsh it seems.
Fire-Eyes cringes at the elder Wendigo's gesture, opens his mouth, then closes it again and sits back down, giving another nod at the last cub's departure.
Leaves-None looks up from her recline to the metis cub and opts to put her attention back to the Moot rather than focus more attention on Squeaks. Ankle-Biter's introduction gets a quietly amused rumble out of her for now.
Bruiser looks amused at the smaller cub, as she takes her turn. ~Black-and-Blue. Black Fury. Cub. Ahroun.~ She steps back, figuring that's enough.
Bad-Penny looks up when he hears the the cub speaking, the skin of his brow twitching as if it were going to raise. He chokes, and it's all he can do not to laugh at the previous Furies' speech.
Ears gives a double thumb's up, this time.
Fat-Ripper scratches Squeaks' head comfortingly, not showing the cub the baleful eyes she turns on the rest of the proceedings. She watches the other cubs, but these introductions are not enough amusement to lift the heavy ridge that's settled along her brow.
Ringtone glances once at Bruiser, and then down again. His ears are cast backward.
Lizard waits until after the other Furies have made their introductions. The young crinos is clearly nervous, but he rises up from all fours to address the gathering. A deep breath, and then, ~I...I'm called Lizard. Ragabash Cub. Son of Pierces-Shadows, Fostern Black Fury Ahroun, and of Dreamcatcher, Fostern Galliard of the Fianna, now fallen in battle against the Wyrm. I hope to be accepted by Pegasus.~ His forked tongue is easily visible during his introduction; his pupils are wide at night even under the full moon, so it's somewhat less obvious that they're elliptical.
Ears quirks a small, approving smile at Lizard.
Song-of-Luna turns her ears back.
Ringtone's head snaps up at Lizard's introduction. His eyes go wide and his ears flatten against his head.
Far-Cry takes the bones back from the last speaking cub, attempting to remain stoic as his golden eyes gaze out in a silent last call. When there are no more who step up, he grunts and speaks up once again, holding the bones. ~We now know the faces of all who sit and stand with us. Amongst your septmates, Hidden Walk, share the news you have.~ He holds the bones high overhead.
Bitter-Harvest eyes Lizard with very, very narrowed eyes. His mouth is closed, so his own tongue is not visible, but the Shadow Lord looks highly disturbed.
Salem doesn't show the slightest flicker of discomfit at Lizard's, well, lizardness. His expression remains neutral.
Sun Clencher regards the interplay between the Elder Wendigo and her cub evenly; she breaks this regard to loll her tongue happily at Ankle-Biter, and otherwise seems not to care about the other Furies, just now.
Reflection has been coming forward since the closing of the opening and moves in to take the bones. ~Guardians have come together as a pack. Runs-The-Gauntlet of the Bone Gnawers, Long-Suffering of the Uktena, and I, Reflection's-Howl of the Fenrir have each made sacrifices in the name of protecting the Caern... so the fool can continue to suck it. Alesia in her wisdom and /honor/ has also agreed to join. Stronghold packs under the wisdom and strength of Shard! A totem of /Bear/! And when you see this totem on the Bawn, you will treat it with /respect/!~ This is said with an intensity and obvious sweep of his senses over the Sept that challenges them to question his words and decisions.
Sun Clencher seems confused as to why the Warder needs to emphasize this so strongly.
It takes a few moments for Ringtone to calm down, but he does in time to hear the Warder's words. Confusion passes over his features, coming to rest in a show of distaste.
Runner blinks at the Warder's strong words, and stands as her name is announced amongst the new pack. The fostern ragabash looks as if she's trying to hide her nervousness, and doing only a fair job of it.
Suspicion returns to the Wendigo elder's expression, though she doesn't seem displeased.
The Warder's inviting the fool to `suck it` is apparently all it takes to lift Fat-Ripper from her funk, if only briefly, because she snorts loudly, and lets her mouth slip open, and her grip on the metis she's wrapped around loosen enough for Sees-Too-Far to squirm out and sit at her side. The cub is embarassed, that much is obvious, but the distance and darkness allows her to merely watch, and the emotion is beginning to dissipate.
Bitter-Harvest flattens his ears, and the fur along his neck hackles. He looks annoyed, but why isn't exactly readable.
Demons nods as Reflection makes his statement. She looks around, taking in other garous'reactions. She seems not quite happy but at least stoic at the news.
Snakepatcher perks his ears at the news of the guardian pack, and looks pleased at the mention of Bear.
Leaves-None tilts her ears towards the Warder, tail wagging in small amusement at his jibe to the night's Fool. After his intense words, she glances towards Runner and offers a lupine grin of sorts to the elder newmoon.
Bad-Penny snorts again at James' speech, but the Gnawer does eye him curiously at the mention of Bear. The Garou gives James an approving nod, then goes back to paying most of his attention to Squaks and Olga.
Found just sits there and wags his tail happily.
Ears takes the bones after the Warder. ~This ain't as big of a deal, but y'all, tell your Kin and your other tribemates who may have business in the scab, don't take that new drug, Fuzz? It's Wyrm Tainted. We're looking to see if there's a connection between it and some wasps, on the other side-- Also Tainted. Scouts good in the scab Umbra, or theurges who want to make talens, come see me.~ She hands the bones to the next person looking to speak.
Runs-the-Gauntlet steps up to take the bones from the Truthcatcher, turning to the gathered. ~Some time ago, a young cub named Tenderfoot, one who would be a theurge of the Children of Gaia, came to me and asked me to teach her of the ragabash and teach her of our trickster ways. I agreed to do so. And so, not more than a few nights past during the full moon, I tricked her. I disguised myself with mud and clay, painting the glyph of Those Of Our Kind Who Have Fallen To The Wyrm upon my chest. I waited, hiding in the north for her to come. And then I leapt at her, cackling and whistling like one of Them.~ She casts a glance over the crowd of Garou, hackles involuntarily lifting for a moment. ~The cub did not fight. She was much Wiser. Knowing she was no match for one of the Fallen Ones, she ran and instead howled for help.~ The Gnawer looks back to the Garou. ~I tell you this because I wish to make a point - this caern may not have enough dedicated Guardians, but there are plenty of Garou here who travel the bawn's grounds every day. And they come when there is signal of danger, real or not. Moonwalker, before known as Walks-the-Middle-Road, answered her own cub's call. Ears-to-the-Ground, Kills-the-Cries, Brings-the-Bitter-Harvest, Song-of-Luna, they came. Even a young Fury cub, Ankle-Biter, answered that howl to defend the caern.~ She looks about for the faces to these names, nodding to each as she finds them, before turning back to the gathered. ~Not a bad turnout for one prank. One test. Our honor in this sept may be tarnished in the eyes of those outside us. But, were /I/ the Wyrm's spawn, I would fear setting even one toe upon these grounds.~ The ragabash bares her teeth fiercely. ~To that note, good job. And on that note, let us do Even Better when the Real Thing comes... because when the fifth turn of the Wheel of Ages ends, we will Have to.~ She turns to hand the bones back to the Truthcatcher and slips back down to her spot by the pack.
While Tenderfoot lowers her gaze, looking mildly embarrassed at the sudden attention, perhaps at being tricked, Moonwalker gives her cub a proud look before listening to the rest of Runner's words.
Ears mutters, ~Amen.~
Ankle-Biter wags her tail happily. I was there!
Bitter-Harvest's air of annoyance remains, though he does glance at Runner, one ear turning back. He doesn't look as though he's quite sure how to take his name being mentioned.
Oncoming Storm looks from Runner to the Black Fury, apparently pleased.
Hunter looks to Abraxas and manages to give him a rather sober expressioned 'thumbs up'. Brief this is and he returns his attention to the center.
The grizzled, heavily scarred Glass Walker stalks up to the Truthcatcher to take the bones, then faces the gathering. In the warform, Salem's Shadow Lord heritage is blindingly clear. Obvious, too, are the glyphs burned and scarred into his forearms -- 'Charach' on the right and 'Dishonor' on the left. When he speaks, his voice holds a note of authority and carries easily across the caern; he's no stranger to public speaking. ~Some of you know me as Scar or Dark One. For those who do not, I am a Philodox of the Glass Walkers and, in the absense of Spies-the-Wyrm, have claimed Eldership of my tribe. Whatever problem, whatever issue may come up with Cockroach's tribe, you may come to me.~ He pauses a beat, then displays his teeth. He adds, with considerable force, ~I have heard, recently, of the incident involving one of my tribemates and two of my tribe's cubs. Rest assured that 'urrah' does not mean I condone /any/ action that causes or threatens to cause harm to the caern that I have repeatedly shed blood for, and should any of my tribe be guilty of this crime, I will not shield them from justice.~ He punctuates this with a vicious snarl and snap of his jaws that suggests that, far from shielding said guilty parties, he'd probably be first in line to throat them. Then he hands the bones back and resumes his place near Hunter.
Far-Cry growls his approval of the words from the grizzled Walker elder, and looks about for the next speaker.
Hunter gives a nod as Salem officially takes elder and a huff with a shake of his head comes as he calls out potential law-breakers in their tribe.
Ringtone stares for a while at the scars on his elder's arms, but the final words get his attention and a small bark of approval and appreciation.
Leaves-None actually wags her tail at Runner's recounting and shifts a bit to sit more alertly in her recline. The next bit of news earns a curious look but a comprehending rumble in her throat.
The two Gnawers statements are enough to perk up Fat-Ripper's mood, or at least get her out of her self-centred sulk. Therefore she's more than capable of regarding Salem's announcement with an entirely original dourness, glancing at the scarred Crinos only briefly and grimly before turning her gaze to the Gnawers who'd spoke, a flick of her head showing her approval. Squeaks meanwhile merely stares at the glyphs on the man's arms, disinterestedly curious; she points and, with a sort of pride, tells those around her in a loud and hideous voice, ~I know that word!~
Of all people, Bitter-Harvest moves to take the bones next, and he avoids looking at any individual Garou as he goes. ~I bring a warning for any of the city tribes, or packs that claim territory there, but also any Garou that would go into the scab. This may already be known, but I've recently learned that the humans are sending a unit from their--~ he pauses, clearly struggling to translate this into the Mother Tongue. He finally settles for, ~From their government. A special unit to look into this Pink Fuzz. We should be careful not to draw their attention. I have also learned that several homeless have been found drained of blood. I echo Ears's advice to caution your Kin.~ That said, he hands the bones back and returns to his lone spot.
Oncoming Storm's earlier anger returns, the growl held tight in her throat. Still, she seems to be pleased by Salem's words and throws a nod in his direction.
Bad-Penny puts two fingers on the nose of the Metis and pushes down just gently, making a quiet 'Shhh' sound.
Ears says, in grating English, "FBI?"
Bitter-Harvest glances sharply at Ears, and nods.
Ears looks enlightened.
Salem's ears flick at Squeaks' voice. He gives the young Metis a wry look, then snorts as he settles into a crouch, turning his attention to Abraxas' announcement.
Sees-Too-Far is humbled but not chagrined. She moves further back, as if mere distance would keep her from more trouble.
Far-Cry looks sharply towards Squeaks as she speaks without the bones, teeth flashing in displeasure. And with the bones returned, that disapproval ratchets a couple of notches up when Ears does the same, though he waits for the conversation to finish before snorting and bringing one end of the bone to clack loudly against the stone. ~Speak not when you are not holding the bones. Are there any more announcements?~ He waits for a while, letting the silence settle again, and then looks to Kaz. ~Master of the Challenge,~ is all he says in invite for her to take the bones.
Ears mutters, ~Sorry,~ as she takes them. ~Hi. I'm your new Master of the Challenge. But you knew that. Anyway. The only oustanding Challenge I know of that is outstanding is "Stacey's"-- where she had to take Garou of all auspices, and lead them in a pack against a suitable target. She chose Shouds-The-Truth, Lune-Calmer, Far-Cry, and me, before I took this position, to do this task; after consulting with spirits, scouting, and reconnointering, this pack defeated its prey-- some skull-monkeys-- and Cleansed the area. So. Warder mine. What is your decision?~
Salem gives Ears a toothy, savage grin.
Far-Cry licks his chops again, eyeing the Warder upon the final decision.
Reflection steps forward once more and stands at the Master of the Challenge's side. ~I have heard the story of her pack's battle. The scouting of the ragabash, the knowledge and talens of the theurge, the cleansing balance of the philodox, the tale and unique powers of the galliard, and the claws and /leadership/ of the Ahroun. She surpassed every expectation and deserves the honor once bestowed upon me. The Child of Gaia, Walks-The-Middle-Road the Cliath, is now... Walks-The-Path-of-The-Moon the Fostern! Honor, wisdom, and glory onto her and those she had chosen to follow her.~
Fat-Ripper succeeds, at Far-Cry's look, at looking chagrined enough for half a dozen Gnawers, looking down and scratching at the back of her neck distractedly. She glances up at Ears' announcement, her mood a mixture of pleasure and embarassment, her face down while her ears are up. She whispers, in a hissed yowling growl in the that barely carriesthrough the noise that follow the announcement, already apologetic and hiding her eyes from Far-Cry's gaze, ~You're Gnawer Elder, too.~
Ears pumps her fist, and takes the bones back. ~Since I don't know of any other outstanding Challenges, or plans /to/ Challenge, I'm done for now. See you, um, in a few minutes...~ She's about to stop talking before she adds, ~Oh, uh. Yeah. Other than that I'm Bone Gnawer Elder again.~ /Then/ she hands the bones to Kenneth.
Oncoming Storm lifts her muzzle, giving a yip of approval to Stacey.
Salem voices a congratulatory howl in Stacey's honor.
Moonwalker straightens proudly as Reflection steps forward, and as the verdict is given her jaws part in a pleased, wide grin as her gaze seeks out each of those present who helped her, seeming as proud of them as she is joyful about the passed Challenge.
Runner lifts the end of her tail and wags it at the announcement, looking towards the newest Fostern.
And Far-Cry's sobering look briefly vanishes for a proud look. Waiting for the cries and yips to die down, he receives the bones from the Master of the Challenge and looks about once more for announcements. When there are none, the Truthcatcher raises the bones over his head to call silently for silence and draws attention. ~Hidden Walk, your septmates have shared their news with you. We have new members, new cubs, new packs, new elders... and now the Cracking ends, as new stories are shared. Thus ends the Cracking of the Bone.~ He brings the ends sharply down to strike, gavel like, down upon the rock. ~Talesinger, it is your time.~
Fire-Eyes sits contentedly, listening. It's so much information to get through...but there's so many new voices.
Ears hasn't stepped very far away. ~That'd be me. See, I realized, back when I got back the most recent time, that there were people who didn't know the Caern had once fallen to Black Spiral Dancers, let /alone/ how the Sept was founded. This... bothered me. So I thought about it, and then I realized that, um, hey! I'm a Galliard! So over th' next few months, I'm gonna be tellin' stories of th' past, an' givin' other people a venue t'tell stories, too. Speakin' of, next waxing Gibbous, we're having another Storytellin' Moot.~ Her glance seeks, in particular, Aubrey. ~Anyway. So I figured I'd start the whole damned thing by talkin' about how the Sept came to be founded. Or rather, re-founded. And why it was abandoned in the first place.~ There's a short silence. ~And the events surrounding its first year or so as the Wheel Renewed.~
Ringtone's ears perk forward and he gives his full attention to Kaz.
Salem shifts down into lupus and gets comfortable in a dignified sort of way.
Squeaks sits equally contented, watching. Her eyes twitch back and forth, and she curls her tail up into her paws, scratching it distractedly. She glances briefly at Ears, but she watches mainly those Garou she doesn't know, eyes passing over them like strobelights.
Leaves-None resettles herself more comfortably, paws lazily crossed as she prepares to listen.
She looks around for a certain Gaian cub. ~I tol' this to Cori awhile back, so scuse the repetition. And although I don't think there's anyone here who was there then, if there are, well, um, pardon my errors, because there will always be errors. Anyhow.~ She settles into a slightly more formal stance, wording becoming more formal, the accent which lingers even in the Mother's Tongue fading. ~To begin with, this was a Wendigo sept. All theirs. No one else's, and they were quite protective of it. This was back,~ she gestures with an arm, ~Back before the Europeans got here. But around, I dunno, the 1600s, the Sept and the Caern kinda... became dormant. Just... disappeared. No one knew exactly why, really. The Wendigo let that happen for awhile, and then they took matters into their own hands and restarted the place, back in the 1820s. Named it the Wheel, after the Lakota Wheel of the Seasons. And they did just fine, for over 100 years. Fought the Wyrm, lived their lives, existed in Gaia's arms. There was some other Caerns having problems up to the north, but the Wheel? They had an idyllic life. Until 1944.~ Kaz glances around. ~By this point there were Bone Gnawers and Glass Walkers in St. Claire, so there's some outside confirmation of all this. So we know, for a fact, that in 1944, the Wendigo just... disappeared. All of them. No one had any clue why. Since there wasn't enough Walkers and Gnawers to keep the Caern alive, it just kinda... faded, and went dormant again.~ She pauses.
Song-of-Luna sits up. She's heard this story before, but even so, she listens with rapt attention.
Oncoming Storm's eyes narrow at the beginning of the story, but she settles into a crouch and listens, ears pulled forward.
Moonwalker also settles into a more comfortable position once the story begins, glancing once toward her cub as she is mentioned. Tenderfoot straightens at the recognition, nodding faintly as Kaz looks toward her, seeming more than willing to hear the story once more.
Fat-Ripper is intensely eager. She gets down on all fours, like she might pounce, and her ears are straight as ramrods.
~The thing here is obviously that you /don't do that/. You don't just /leave/. But these warriors... They did.~ Kaz makes a 'poof' motion. ~Gone.~ Her hand opens. ~And no one knew why. Seemed like a mystery that'd never get answered. So... About 50 years later, in 1991, a pack of exploring Black Furies and Silent Striders found the Caern. The other thing you have to understand is that it was different, then. It was...~ She gestures up to the top of the ravine. ~Before this valley was made, it was up where the cliffs are now, flat, with the markings of the four elements. A huge rock, a pool of water, a fire pit, a spot where the winds played. I am told by those who know that it was very beautiful. And... the Wendigo had not disguised the spot, they had just... Left. So, this pack went back to report to their Elders and all, and a couple years later, more people came.~
Demons nudges Ankle-Biter and Bruiser as if trying to make extra sure they are paying attention.
Ankle-Biter is listening, and her ears perk up when the Black Furies come into it.
Ears goes on, ~It was... pristine, really. Perfect place to have a Caern. And is pathstone was still there. So a fairly large group of folks came to this out of the way part of Washington, to try and get things started. One of the leaders was a Silent Strider Elder by the name of Horus. He wanted... Well, he was an idealist, and one of the things he wanted for this place was that it be a Sept of all 13 tribes. That is,~ she says, looking around at the various tribal representatives, ~Not so easy. But he was... a personality and a half, and he wanted to do it. So he and others-- the Gaian Elder Aspen Demilune, the Get of Fenris Old One, Warstripe the theurge, Arjun Fletcher, Astram, the Glass Walker... they and so many others came together, representatives of all tribes. All tribes but one. There were no Wendigo. At all. This was,~ she says with a slight grin, ~Remarked upon.~
Runner's ears shuffle forward on her head at the beginning of the tale, listening intently. Her growl is withheld upon the mention of Garou simply leaving. But, she does stifle it a moment afterwards, listening on.
Far-Cry finds his way down closer towards the Children of Gaia pair than his fellow tribemates, but not too close. The philodox remains apart, and he too listens. There is an occasional flicker of his glance towards the representative of the Wendigo at current for her reaction.
Oncoming Storm is tight and still as she listens.
The Galliard continues, ~They tried the Rite to re-awaken the Caern once; it failed, with angents of the Wyrm bringing silver fire from flying Weaver machines. Horus and others were almost killed. The Garou, being Garou and stubborn, perservered, and tried again. The Caern came back to life, and Buffalo, strong and patient, and Magpie, inquisitive and generous, came to the Garou, to be their Totems. And because they had a sense of history, these Garou named it the Wheel Renewed.~
Ears paces. ~The Garou of the new Sept of the Wheel Renewed set to being Garou, fighting the Wyrm (and each other), and working to protect the Wyld. But about a year or so after the Caern was reborn, strange things started happening. For one thing, it was getting colder. A lot colder, a lot earlier in the year than it should. Weird portents were coming fast and furious, and visions were disturbing the theurges. No one could pinpoint it, but /something/ was clearly up, that winter of 1994. Humans were dying of exposure, Washington was snowed in more days than not, and people were... seriously confused. And in December...~ She pauses. ~The Wendigo show up. And they are /not happy/.~ Kaz sighs, and says, ~Honestly, I can't really blame them. The place had been theirs and only theirs, before, and now they show up and all 12 tribes are there and not prepared for anything. And the Wendigo, although they would never admit it to anyone, are scared. Because what's causing this whole out of the ordinary winter turns out to be what made their Caern disappear in the first place. It is the Ice King. It is an ancient enemy of theirs, a powerful and potent spirit of the Wyrm, and it had reawakened, after 50 years asleep. And it is... not weak.~ A little grimly, she adds, ~Far from it.~
Runner flattens her ears back, riveted on the story enough to look a little intimidated herself.
There's a silence. Then, ~This was why the Wendigo left. They left because they thought they were a danger to the Caern. The Ice King, back in 1944, wasn't coming for the Caern, or the Totems, or the other spirits. At that time, or at least, so the spirits told them, the Ice King was coming for the Wendigo themselves. So most of them left, and nine of them-- what came to be known as Cougar's Nine-- stayed. They stayed to the bitter end with the Cougar Totem spirit-- stayed, to lure the Ice King in and try and defeat it. And in 1944, /something/ happened. No one knows what, exactly. The Ice King disappeared, Cougar was defeated, and Cougar's Nine were slain, all of them. I do not know their names.~ Kaz is silent, very briefly. ~I will find their names. Some day.~ She shakes her head, abruptly. ~So the Wendigo of that time declared the area cursed, and left. But they loved the place, and when others came to it, 50 years later, they could not stay away. And as it turned out, the Ice King had been after more than just the Wendigo themselves. The Ice King had been after Cougar, after the Caern, and after eternal winter. And in that winter of 1994, he was coming back. No one knows how. No one knows why. The wiser spirits who could have told the Garou anything were paralyzed, some by the cold, some by fear.~ The metis takes a breath. ~So, in the winter and spring of 1995, the Garou prepared. Red Sky the Wendigo, Alpha of those who had returned to the Wheel, led them in the search for Cougar, and Cougar, the third Totem, came. Cougar is a fierce fighter, more geared to attack than defense, which given what was coming was all for the best. Garou made talens. They sought fetishes and aid from other Septs, other Caerns. And the Ice King, he advanced, slowly, inexorably. Inevitable as the winter itself.~
Oncoming Storm's hackles rise, but she settles herself as well as she can.
Leaves-None lowers her head to her paws, ears pinning back as she continues to listen raptly.
Fat-Ripper's enthusiasm has died, replaced by a thick and nameless anxiety. She's still, except for the occasional twitch of an ear.
Far-Cry's eyes remain on the Talesinger, a low growl rumbling through him at points during the story's progression.
Ears shivers, almost theatrically. ~That winter which would not end. In March... March was when the Ice King's advance brought him to our doorstep. He manifested in both the spirit world and this world, and he had allies, strong and vicious allies. The Garou of the Sept, they had, as I said, strong spiritual weapons, and also weapons borrowed from the army. Machine guns, lasers, grenades. And--~ she adds, speaking slowly as she tenses her hand, claws popping out-- ~They had their natural gifts of tooth, claw, and Rage.~ She regards her claws for a moment, and they relax, resheathing. ~The Ice King called them dogs, and filth, and vermin. The Ice King taunted. The Ice King, and his allies, fought these Garou of the Hidden Walk, led by their Alpha, Arjun Fletcher. And Garou died.~ Kaz takes a breath. ~Those names I know. Velasquez, Ahroun of the Bone Gnawers, Elder of the tribe. He-Strikes-Twice, Walker, Ahroun of the Uktena. Shana Eyes-Glow-Green, Ahroun of the Fianna. Jeremy Hand of Sekhmet, Ahroun of the Silent Striders. Flying Bear, Ahroun of the Children of Gaia. Mouse, Itunkala-Counting Coup, metis Galliard of the Uktena, who in fact counted coup on the Ice King himself, shaming him, but dying in the process. Wind In Trees, theurge of the Wendigo. And the leader of the Wendigo, Red Sky, an ahroun of his tribe. It was, as I said, he who first brought Cougar back to the Wheel. Angry, difficult to get along with, difficult to make alliances with, proud, and wanting desperately to make up for what he saw as the failures of the Wendigo of 1944, Red Sky was... complex. And he and the other Garou fought, and beat the Ice King back, and chased him as he fled, forced out by a combination of ancient magics and modern technology. And Red Sky, he fell in battle at the gates of Hell itself, struggling to ensurie that the Ice King would never come to these lands again, never menace them again.~ There's a silence. ~As he has not.~ She finally stops pacing. ~The recovery from this battle, and the later years of the Wheel Renewed, and its becoming the Hidden Walk, they are stories I will tell another time.~
Oncoming Storm rises, lifter her voice in a howl of triumph, and mourning for her fallen tribemates.
Salem utters a low growl of pleasure at the description of the battle.
Ringtone turns a pleased grin to Ears-to-the-Ground, quiet in his obvious approval.
Ears limps back to her seat.
Runner looks uneasy, but proud with the final ending. Her howl joins Oncoming Storm's, fluctuating with mourning and celebrating the dead, asking that their spirits rest easy and watch over the caern today.
Oncoming Storm continues her howl, changing pitch and volume as she shift from Crinos to Hispo and begins to pace the outer edge of the caern. The howl grows and then, abruptly, cuts off. ~Come! Warriors of the Hidden Walk! Tonight we hunt!~
Squeaks supresses her questions, and Fat-Ripper feels no joy. She rises at Oncoming Storm's call, though her mood is lacklustre. Wordless, she bumps the young metis' shoulder, gives Bad-Penny and Leaves-None a faint growl of goodbye, and pads slowly towards the Wendigo.
Bitter-Harvest finally moves from his spot, all bristling hackles and bad mood, though he moves toward Snakepatcher first.
Ankle-Biter seems to enjoy the story. ~ I hope I have an adventure like that someday! ~
Fire-Eyes rises up slightly from where he sits...but considers the earlier warnings he's heard: No revelling as a cub. So he sits back down and continues to watch, who moves, who doesn't.
Salem sits up, choosing to remain behind to guard the caern.
Leaves-None just rumbles softly to herself as the tale ends, keeping any other thoughts on it to herself. Rising to her feet, she shakes herself all over and stretches to prepare for the Revel.
Fat-Ripper pages to the Caern: Thanks for the moot, Yi! Thanks for the story, Kaz!
Lara tells Casey to return (eventually) to the Bluff, and lopes over to join Jacinta.
Long distance to the Caern: Far-Cry credits Jac for organizing, moot position folk for their stuff, and y'all for coming. Log will be up... shortly.
Song-of-Luna remains in place, studying her story stick with an air of thoughtfulness and not-quite-hidden bits of mopey.
Snakepatcher moves to rejoin Kaz, then catches Bitter-Harvest's movement and pauses with a suspicious, quizzical look at the Lord.
From afar, to the room, Salem tosses thanks to Jacinta. :)
Leaves-None has left.
Found has left.
From afar, to the Caern, Fat-Ripper offlines. G'night folks. Thanks for the RP.
Fat-Ripper goes home.
Fat-Ripper has left.
Bitter-Harvest doesn't look terribly happy to be speaking to Snakepatcher--by which we mean, not happy at ALL. However, he delivers his message without any additional comments. ~The bird wanted me to tell you she got your message, and she's looking for you.~ That said, he simply turns around and moves away.
Ankle-Biter heads back to the Farmhouse, with several other of the cubs who are not allowed to go on adult things like "revels" or "beer runs".
Fire-Eyes looks up after the leaving cubs. ~Hey--~
Snakepatcher acknowledges the Lord's message with a terse acknowledgement and rejoins the storyteller.
Ears eyeballs Casey. ~D'you know where the Farmhouse is?~
Fire-Eyes shakes his head as he stands up. ~I've never been there before. I haven't really been...around.~ He glances back at Sun Clencher, then at the other cubs again.
Ankle-Biter glances back over her shoulder at Fire-Eyes. ~ C'mon, then! ~
Ears shrugs. ~Well, most of them cubs is going there. You wanna meet 'em, follow 'em. Just, no lupus in the house. And no fighting.~
Fire-Eyes looks a little puzzled for a while, then grins. ~Alright..Thanks!~ He hurries after Ankle-Biter.
Bitter-Harvest settles back in his spot as he waits for the Revel to begin, still hackling and glaring at the ground.
Ears limps off in the general direction of the Farmhouse.
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