Poe Returns
9/22/2007
09:14 AM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (70% full).
It is currently 09:09 Pacific Time on Sat Sep 22 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.92 and rising, and the relative humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.)
Bawn: Northern Forest(#3012RA)
Dark and forboding woods stretch in all directions but the north, the trees close together as if they were soldiers closing ranks against the enemy of Man. The trees here are tall, and close off all light from above, like they were pillars in some vast cathedral to Nature. Songbirds flit between the branches and the snuffling of small animals comes from the brush if one listens close enough. The busy interstate highway to the north, though, drowns out most of the subtler sounds in that direction.
The northern edge of the bawn is marked here by the unavoidable length of Interstate 90. Near it, the sounds of traffic drown out the more natural sounds of water and wildlife. In all other directions, the traffic noise recedes into the background.
Contents:
Poe
Obvious exits:
Interstate 90 North Lone Boulder Western Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Bawn
Through the trees and the underbrush comes more than just the rustling of small animals. It's a heavier sound, the sound of a body shufting through the bushes and grass, and fallen leaf debris that clutters the forest floor. It's Poe, and he cautiously picks away through the forest until he reaches familiar places, nose working furiously, his eyes glancing all around, staying alert as he can. Triplechecking his surroundings, he finally shifts into Crinos, bulking out, and picks his way further into the woods until a strange feeling begins to twist in his gut. He makes a face, and sneezes as familar smells work at his nose. Taking a stance, he inhales deeply, before tipping his furry head back and letting go a deep, resonant howl.
The howl echoes out over the bawn and nearby forest, and goes unanswered for a short while. The lag time is broken in minutes by the somewhat faint volume of a higher pitched reply of Runs-the-Gauntlet, telling the unidentified one to stay off the territory. When she arrives, the Gnawer fostern is tiny compared to the warform Get, her being in lupus form. Her form quickly bulks up, though, to that of hispo - still a deal smaller, but the scars crisscrossing her frame and tail held up display her confidence. ~Who are you?~ she growls in sharp demand.
Poe doesn't move from where he stands, ears straining to hear a reply. He soon gets one, and shifts his weight as he waits for the caller to come investigate. Being a newly Cliathed Garou, and once getting a good look at the hispo form of Yi, states, ~I am Poe, Cliathed as Thicker-Than-Blood, previously known as Bites-the-Bark, prior cub to Caern of the Wheel Renewed.~ he shows his neck in a display of submission. ~I have come to re-join the Sept.~
Runner steps closer, nose twitching as she takes in the other's scent further. The ragabash sniffs him from all angles, circling around the Get with a tense posturing that indicates she still treats him - perhaps exaggeratedly so - as an outsider. When she comes back around to his front, the fostern gradually ticks down her tail a touch. ~I am Runs-the-Gauntlet, fostern ragabash of the Bone Gnawers of the Hidden Walk sept, daughter of the Guardian pack, Stronghold, under Shard the Bear's patient strength.~ The identification of her pack totem makes even the fostern stiffen slightly, as if expecting some negative reaction from the other Garou. But she continues on. ~Thicker-Than-Blood, what is your tribe and auspice?~
Poe appears as if he expected the treatment, and submissively holds his posture as he is sniffed and investigated, and he winces as, in his nervousness, he completely forgot to list those two details. ~I am from the Great Get of Fenris tribe, Galliard. I am longtime friend to Basil, also a Bone Gnawer of this Sept.~ he offers the connection with a slight bit of reluctance, knowing of Basil's current status, but seems hopeful at it, nonetheless.
Runner pauses with that note about Basil, taking in another heavy sniff of the Get. There is a visible change to the fostern though, who drops her tail to a calmed, though still dominant level. ~He likes to call himself Bad-Penny now,~ rumbles the ragabash. It's almost fondly that she says so. ~You were sent away for your Rite of Passage?~ she asks next curiously.
Poe relaxes as well, calmed though still submissive - and nods his head slowly, ~I will remember that. I was not sent away,~ he admits, ~I followed a tribe member, Brom Rips-The-Face-of-the-Forath, Ahroun Get of Fenris to this sept, when he left for Ohio. I needed further training, and there were not many Get left here willing to take me on as a cub. I was Rited there.~ he explains, ~But this Sept is my home, so I have returned.~
Runner casts her gaze over the new cliath evaluatingly, but eventually gives a grunt of satisfaction. One might even say there's a hint of amusement at the galliard's return, displayed through the jaunty tilt of her ears. The Gnawer turns and starts off southwest-wards, tailtip flicking to gesture for the crinos to follow. ~Maybe you will find much has changed in your 'home' while you were away. Maybe you find nothing has changed at all. Come, Thicker-Than-Blood. You remember where the farmhouse is? If not, I will bring you there.~
Poe pricks his ears as he is told to follow, and he does so happily, now looking around the forest with renewed interest instead of caution. ~I am sure it will be good to see, in the event of either.~ he replies, ~And since I did not say so before, it is good to meet you, Runs-The-Gauntlet Rhya.~ he adds, ~I believe I do remember. However, I would not mind the company, if you are not too troubled by it.~ as they reach the thinner parts of forest, he shifts down into homid out of caution.
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