The Caern Totem Debate

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:24 Pacific Time on Wed Aug 7 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 73
degrees Fahrenheit (22 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the northwest at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.27 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 46 percent. The dewpoint is 51
degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning No Moon phase (6% full).

By the Waterfall

The rugged walls of the canyon, spraypainted everywhere with lewd and
vulgar phrases and images, grow narrower to the northeast, forcing the
gusts of winds that it catches to rush down into this small clearing. Here
the breezes meet with the drifting mists off the waterfall's spray,
becoming swirling bits of haze that dance and whirl like merry ghosts.
Occasionally, the canyon's rim pushes swifter air into the caern, breaking
up the dance and sending the mists, scattered, back to their source.

Swirling in the area is some of the mist sprayed up by the waterfall to
the south. To the west, a rock slab juts out of the ground at an angle.
the caern's center is to the southwest; the rest of the valley extends
northeast, toward the mountains.

The old growth forest surrounding the caern has been hewn down out to
150', leaving only stumps as tombstones for the mighty trees that once
sheltered the caern. The ground has been salted and otherwise rendered
poisonous to anything that might otherwise grow.

To the west, cool mist kicked up by the falls mingles with warmer steam
from geothermal sources; these mists swirl around the caern to the north.
The caern's center lies northwest of here. You can pick out what seems to
be a hazardous trail over rock and up the wall, to the side of the
waterfall.


At the center, Tempered-Blade whuffs a respectfuly greeting to Nightfire
and his packmate before curling up to watch the show.

At the center, Nightfire greets Tempered-Blade in return, watching as the
Garou begin filing into the caern.

At the center, Wildfire is simply napping at the moment.

Salem and Quentin enter the caern in lupus, the former looking little the
worse for wear, although the cub appears winded. The older Walker eyes his
charge critically, then huffs, reverting to homid. "We need to work on
your stamina."

Quentin's tongue lolls out of his mouth as he nearly limps along into the
caern after the older Glass Walker, his ears flattening and tail held low.
He doesn't look much less weary after he shifts smoothly back into homid
form, either, running one hand back through the sweaty strands of his
hair. "..yeah," he says, dragging in a lungful of breath, "..I guess
Alicia was right. I am a bit scrawny."

[Quentin]

Of lean and slender build and skin paled from night's touch, this
teenager's stature is far from impressive at a few inches shy of six feet,
and in this he could blend easily into any crowd of modern youth without
difficulty. A scattering of ebony hair spills forwards to shadow his brow
and tickle at the rim of his ears, though the nape of his neck is bare of
all save a dark shadow where a razor buzzed all away. The features of his
face are slightly sharp in their lines and angles, high cheekbones and an
almost pointed chin matched by the straight line of his nose, the eyes
that look out of that face a startlingly bright shade of green that glints
almost emerald in the right light.

As for his clothes, he's not exactly dressed to impress today. A pale grey
sweatshirt, and matching sweatpants, covers his slender frame in a loose
manner that serves to obscure the exact lines of his slender frame.
There's nothing more to the outfit, no shoes, no watch, no nothing.


"We'll work on that," Salem says, and judging from his tone of voice it's
not so much a promise as a statement of fact. Setting a hand lightly on
Quentin's back, he leads the cub into the center of the caern.


Center of the Caern

This area of the clearing is about 30 meters wide and is a mixture of dark
soil and clay throughout. The ground is muddied, as if supersaturated not
long ago. Near the center of the clearing, lies what remains of the large
white boulder of stone and quartz. Gravel litters the area around the once
beautiful boulder, which has been pulverized to pieces no bigger than a
softball. Bits of it have been thrown about the caern and discarded like
forgotten toys.

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.


[Sith-Fhuil -- Layne]

	Ribbons of fire dance throughout the darker, rust-red fur of this
wolf bitch, highlighted by silvery guard-hairs spersed randomly across a
summer coat. Smears of gray and black mark long, wolven features like
warpaint; they splash her underside, tail, and riddle her limbs like
shadows sprung upward from the earth that grabbed a hold in passing.

	This creature moves with a natural, unpracticed grace; from the
looks of it, she's spent years in these wilds--prowling, hunting,
running--doing as wolves will do. It's the strange coloring of her eyes,
then, that seems quite unnatural: a vivid, hazel-blue set within dark,
angled sockets. They glimmer with mocking cynicism overlaid by an animal
intelligence that, upon closer inspection, doesn't seem very animalistic
at all.


Quentin grimaces just a bit as he's led along into the caern's heart once
more, taking in a deep breath and exhaling again as he catches his breath.
"Yessir," he murmurs under his breath to Salem, even as he glances around
the area with a curiousity undimmed by weariness.

Quiet Wind pads quietly into the Caern, moving to join those at the
center.

Salem's mouth twitches into a thin smile at Quentin when the cub's not
looking his way.


[Salem]

          Tall and dark, he stands a few inches over six feet, a striking
and rather dangerous-looking man in his late twenties. A mane of black
hair, well past shoulder-length, frames a hawkish face, the left side of
which is twisted by scars; apart from this disfigurement, he's quite
handsome -- albeit in a devilish, saturnine kind of way. His face is one
designed for brooding and cynicism, and the neatly-trimmed, short black
beard makes him look all the more satanic. His left eye is dead white,
lost within the tangled jungle of scar tissue that covers the left side of
his face; his good eye is dark brown, not quite black. In short, he has
the look of the very devil about him, or of a Christ figure gone bad.

          He's dressed more casually than usual, in black sweatpants and a
plain t-shirt the color of charcoal. His sneakers are black, and his dark
hair's been tied back into a ponytail, away from his face. Something hangs
from a cord around his neck but is tucked under his shirt, out of view.


[Quiet Wind]

	Whatever once happened to this large timber wolf, it bears the
scars in hideous memory. From the neck down, its body is only whole in
patches, the vast majority of its frame being covered in scar-tissue; the
sight is so gruesome as to almost invoke pity or loathing in the more
sensitive people. It's paws are skeletal and blasted, with pink, black,
and red tissue making its way up and around his grotesque body. It appears
this wolf was once nearly burned to death, but managed barely to live.

	Despite its horrible appearance, it seems able to move and think
well overall. In fact, it retains the vast majority of its strength and
dexterity from before the burning, with only the occasional twinge of pain
from lost skin-flexibility betraying his injuries. Nose constantly
twitching, eyes searching high and low, it does not appear to intend to
miss anything going on around it. A very...peculiar necklace hangs from
its neck (detail Necklace). It's eyes are a deep black. A predator born to
the wilderness, this creature moves with a predatory grace, gliding like a
ghost through the trees. . .


Sith-Fhuil weaves through the lengthening shadows at a steady trot,
closing the distance between the steam vents and the caern's center in a
few short moments. Slowing to a long-strided walk upon arrival, the
red-brown wolf cuts a wide circle around those already gathered, before
finding a place of her own.

Quentin glances back towards Salem after a few minutes, asking quietly,
"So.. what's going on tonight?"

Quiet Wind sits down and looks about, sniffing the air a few times in the
direction of Sith, Salem, and Quentin.

Salem glances in the direction of the badly-scarred wolf, then inclines
his head politely before answering Quentin. "Tonight, the Sept debates
which spirit to petition for the caern. There'll be a good deal of speech
in all three languages, and in particular the Mother Tongue."

Quentin slants a look over towards the terribly-scarred wolf sniffing in
their direction, offering a faint smile back before looking back up
towards Salem once more. "Oh. Hopefully all that practice will pay off,
then," he says a bit ruefully, looking around, "I've been trying to learn
as much as I can."

Quiet Wind's ears twitch and he whines neutrally in a greeting to Salem
and Quentin, then looks behind himself, senses waiting for signs of any
newcomers.

Francisco makes his human-shaped way into the caern, placing his booted
feet with care. His hair has grown in about half an inch and goes yet
undyed, and his eyes have substantial dark circles under them.

Salem folds his arms across his chest. "You've done well," he tells the
cub. "If any of the vocabulary escapes you tonight, however, ask. Quietly,
but ask." He looks up, gaze fixing on the other Walker half-moon.

Tempered-Blade bumps her packmate with her nose, then looks around. Do all
here understand the choice we have to make?

Wildfire eventualy wakes up, the goings on around him finally drawing him
into the land of the awake. He blinks a couple of times as he stand up and
stretches.

Quentin tips his head in a quick nod, though there's a quick smile that
mirrors a hint of pride at the praise from Salem. "I will. Hopefully I'll
learn more about all this.. spirit-stuff, too, listening to things
tonight."

Francisco meets Salem's glance, and goes to cliath and cub. Unusually, he
doesn't say anything. He -must- be tired. He does nod, though, in
greeting.

Sith-Fhuil appears patient, belly to the grass, ears splayed to either
side as she listens to voices, or nothing in particular.

Salem nods to Quentin, half his attention still on the arriving Francisco.
"You should, yes." Then he looks directly at his extremely tall packmate.
"Stay away from Rhiannon," he suggests, apparantly with complete
seriousness.

In the windiest area, the heavy form of Reggie clambers down into the
caern, hob-nailed boots sinking well into the muddier areas before he can
pull himself out into a marginally drier area.

Quentin raises one hand in a slight, wordless wave over towards Francisco,
offering over a faint smile. At the words about Rhiannon, he glances to
Salem curiously, but he doesn't ask.

Tempered-Blade tilts her head towards Salem. Why should one avoid the
kinfolk?

The Shadow Lord's entrance, as usual, is low-key. He emerges from the
trees and crosses the space to the caern in a few moments, settling down
an appropriate distance from the other wolves and relaxing.

Andrea draws in from the south, headed toward her packmates. Her face
bears a thoughtful frown, but she seems otherwise calm.

Francisco eyes Salem, then smirks wryly and shakes his head, regaining
some energy perhaps. "Good point," he says, and smiles at Quentin.

Quiet Wind, from where he sits by Tempered-Blade, makes note of Reggie's
entrance and offers an amiable bark in his direction.

Salem smiles faintly at his packmate, but offers no explanation to the
puzzled Fianna. It's an inside joke, apparantly.

Wildfire trods on over and plops himself down upon his haunches beside
Nightfire. He says nothing, yawning just once instead and looking the
place over.

Raising a hand with a healing wound on both sides, as if a knife had been
put through it, Reggie greets the unquiet Quiet Wind and heads over to
return the greeting.

Tempered-Blade whines softly at Salem, then decides that it must be a
joke.

Alicia trudges up the path towards the center of the Caern, sliding her
hands into her pockets.

Duane enters the caern silently, unobtrusively, scanning the gathering as
he nears the center.

Quiet Wind's ears twitch and his nose quivers as he takes in Reggie's
scent. What happened to your hand?

Andrea stops once she reaches Tempered-Blade, dropping one hand absently
to touch the Fianna's ruff.

Alicia heads over to Francisco, Salem, and Q-Bert, having spotted her pack
off to the side. "Yo' guys." She says in a lazy drawl.

Golden-Eyes trots into the cearn. Her dappled ears are splayed on her head
as she looks for her tribemates. Slowly, she heads in the direction of
Sith-Fhuil and Tempered-Blade.

Salem stands quiet, giving Alicia a nod of greeting from his looming-ish
spot at Quentin's side. "Evening."

Quentin's lips quirk in a slight grin as Alicia makes her way over, and he
tips his head back up towards her from where he's standing in Salem's
looming shadow. "Hey Alicia."

Yi and the Gnawer philocub approach the caern center, the ground squishing
beneath each footstep. Conversing quietly in a far eastern Mandarin, the
words get fainter as they approach the rest of the group gathering.

Storm-Singer watches the garou arrive one by one with a generally neutral
aire. His eyes aren't missing much, however, despite his casual demeanor.

Reggie scowls as he stretches out his hand delicately. "Some hopped-up
religious freak decided it was just the right place to put his silver
carving-knife", he replies to Quiet Wind.

Sith-Fhuil tilts her chin up toward the approaching Golden-Eyes, jaws
splitting in a soft, welcoming whuff. She seems fairly quiet tonight--not
distracted, but meditative.

Andrea glances toward Alicia when she sees the Gaian galliard approach.
"Alicia," she requests. "Could you please see that everyone's here that
wishes to come?"

Francisco offers a tired grin to his Gaian packmate. "Hey you."

Seeker arches an eyebrow at Reggie.

Duane moves quietly toward Touch Deer, skirting the outside of the group.
"Hey, brother," he says, voice low, when he comes near.

Alicia smiles and nods her head to each of the Glass Walkers, tilting her
head to the side as she slaps Frankie five, curling her fingers up in his,
then gives him a fisted up and down thug' shake, snapping her fingers at
the end. She grins the entire time, amused.

Tempered-Blade chuffs a greeting to those who pass by her, but the wolf
does not seem inclined to get up and wander.

Touch Deer flows upwards into homid form. He looks down at Reggie's wound,
head shaking a little, but before he can comment on the matter Duane's
words catch his attention, and he excuses himself to go over to greet the
young Uktena. "All good medicine. How are you?"

Duane flashes the ghost of a smile, here and gone, and gives a thumbs up.
"Washte, man," he says, then adds, "Hey, Reggie," when he sees his
tribemate.

Lyra's speech softens, yes, but also picks up speed in her hushed
excitement. A curious look on her face and a smile in her eyes proves the
cub is more than pleased to be here. She follows Yi doggedly, not seeming
to care that her brand new shoes are getting rather dirty; she catches
sight of Quentin from across the Center, and gives him a tiny,
two-fingered salute and smile when he next glances her way.

Quentin catches sight of another familiar face amongst the rest of the
gathering, raising one hand in a wave from his brow and away in a loose
salute towards where Lyra walks with another Gnawer, a smile flashing
quick to his lips.. his hand dropping back down to his side once more a
moment later, and he looks around a bit more to catch sight of the
newcomers.

Golden-Eyes brushes close to Sith-Fhuil before sitting beside her. There
is talk tonight? She looks towards Andrea, inclining her head.

Reggie waggles his fingers at Seeker when he notices the Strider's in the
caern, folds them into a fist as he grimaces, then flashes his teeth at
Duane in lieu of more finger-waggling, and follows after Touch Deer to
meet up with both.

Alicia nods her head to Andrea after catching the request and shifts her
way up to the Crinos form, lifting her chin up to howl.

Yi glances in the direction Lyra looks after, seeing Quentin and staring
for a little bit as she figures out his face to put with a name.

Guards-Flame howls long and loud.

From Center of the Caern, Guards-Flame can be heard to howl, ~Come
Brothers and Sisters to gather at the center of our mother's heart, so
that we may meet among each other and discuss things of great importance!
Everyone's voice is needed to be heard!~

Andrea nods in return to Golden Eyes, once Alicia acknowledges her.
Rides-Fire pads up behind Nightflash and settles on his haunches.

Salem catches sight of Lyra with the other Bone Gnawer, and for a moment
his eye follows her progress into the caern. Then his attention's on his
howling packmate.

Yes. Tonight, we decide. The halfmoon of Stag's brood answers her
tribesmate, sliding eyes toward the crumbled caern stone. In the next
moment, she cuts her gaze thoughtfully toward Andrea, stretching her legs
foreward through the grass.

Touch Deer leans in to whisper something to the two Uktena (Reggie and
Duane) he now mingles with.

Golden-Eyes nods to Sith-Fhuil. She stretches into lying position as she
looks to those gathered. Her ears are perked as she holds tentive
attention to the head speakers for the evening.

Tempered-Blade looks towards her alpha and packmate. Who starts?

Chance pads up, gnawing briefly on Tobin's left ankle before settling
nearby.

From the south end of the caern Tobin and Kristine emerge from the mists
and make their way towards the group, talking lowly to each other. Tobin
yipes quietly as Chance chews on him, but he only glares at the Fang
Ragabash briefly before sitting himself down to listen.

Andrea waits a few minutes longer, then her quiet voice raises to speak to
the gathered. "There were many suggestions for whom we should invite.
Wendigo. Rat. Stag. Magpie. Bear. North Wind. Grandmother Tree. Unicorn.
Frog. Wyld. We have gathered to discuss and decide. Any and all may speak,
or ask." Her mouth quirks slightly as she adds, "We will see if everyone
can make themselves heard, that way, before we do anything more formal."

Lyra follows Yi's gaze, then whispers something to the cliath quickly. The
cub's hands clasp behind her back as she watches Andrea excitedly. If she
had a tail, it could keep time with most Dance Dance Revolution mixes. Ah,
youthful enthusiasm.

Kristine gives a nod to Chance before dropping down into a crouch, sitting
next to Tobin. Her hands lace together, elbows resting upon her knees, and
her expression becomes thoughtful.

Touch Deer nods to Reggie and Duane at something quietly discussed amongst
them, and then moves to join Andrea and Tempered-Blade, his packmates.

Quentin's casual glances about stop, then, as he gathers himself to a more
attentive posture.. both hands sliding at the small of his back and
clasping there to keep from fidgeting. Both eyebrows lifting a bit, the
cub looks over towards Andrea to listen to her.

Yi leans as Lyra whispers, and gives her a quick nod before concluding her
brief evaluation of the other. Then, when Alicia finishes howling and
Andrea speaks, she looks over to pay some more attention.

Susan shifts up to her birth form, nibbles on an errant flea, and then
looks around to see who will be the first to step forward and speak.

Kristine glances to the left, then to the right, before frowning
thoughtfully once more. Then she stands up, lifting a hand to garner
Andrea's attention; a simple request that she would like to be heard,
whenever she would fall in in the queue. If there was one.

Andrea's dark gaze crosses over the gathering. As it lingers on the
wolf-born, she shifts into a larger form, so Mother's Tongue may come more
easily from her throat. ~I will answer what is asked of me, but I do not
want to present one of these choices over another, not until other voices
are heard. I am adren and theurge, and I will lead this sept to the best
of my wisdom, but tonight we seek more than one person's words.~ She
motions to Kristine. ~Begin.~

Tobin blinks in mild surprise as Kristine steps forward first, but the
surprise turns to approval and he watches his tribemate attentively to
listen to what she has to say.

Wildfire keeps his seat by Nightfire's side as Andrea begins the
proceedings. His frown deepens a little before she motions to Kristine.

Sith-Fhuil scans the crowd quickly for her fellow advocate, Eye-of-Ra. Not
seeing the Strider present, the red-brown wolf pushes herself up in one
fluid motion, ears swiveling forward. She waits her turn to speak.

Duane tries to catch the eye of Andrea, then waves one hand slightly,
hoping she recognizes him.

~I don't really have a single suggestion.~ The diminuitive Fang begins.
~But I do have words for what I think we should consider when chosing. The
Totem we pick, should reflect the Caern, and the ones who guard it. Should
reflect it's history, it's purpose, it's ups and downs.~ She pauses here,
brows coming together thoughtfully, ~I have not been here as long as some
gathered here, but my years here are numerous. I know the stories of
before my time. Before it's Change, When it Changed, and After it changed.
Exchanged Totems several times. Even had it's scenery changed. This Caern,
this place of Gaia, is a strong place. We humans have a saying, 'What
doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'. If that's the case, then Here is
strong indeed.~ She balls a fist and smacks it into the center of her
other hand, ~A Totem of Strength, of Perseverence. That is my suggestion.
We have Endured.~ A pause ~Perhaps, out of this thought, I think, perhaps,
of the ones listed by Bitter Cup, Wendigo or Bear.~ A smile graces her
features, ~Of course, this is my opinion, and merely a suggestion.~ A nod
of her head is given, to show she is finished now.

Touch Deer's chin begins see-sawing up and down at the mention of Wendigo.
A low 'Hmmph' sounds in his chest as well, signifying his agreement with
that idea.

Francisco, after listening to Kristine, glances at Andrea and lifts a hand
to catch her attention and secure himself a place in the line-up.

Susan raises an eyebrow as the Silver Fang suggests Bear as a totem, but
doesn't seem offended by the notion. ~Seems to me that this caern is more
about change from what you're saying,~ says the Fianna mildly as she
shifts pwards to speak better ~There's a Wyld spirit sleeping about six
feet from you. I'd like to make sure everyone realizes that this spirit
doesn't intend to leave, so anything that we call will need to work and
interact with it.~

Andrea nods thoughtfully, turning the end of the expression into an
acknowledgement of Duane. She gestures at Sith-Fhuil next.

Salem's jaw clenches. He glances sidelong at Francisco, nodding his
approval at the other Glass Walker. For the moment, the ex-Shadow Lord
seems content to be silent, and to play translator for Quentin as needed.

Kristine shrugs her eyebrows, giving a slight smile and a nod to Susan at
the mention. Seems she's agreeable to that, as well.

John stalks quietly into the Caern, moving up behind Salem and Francisco
without a word or noise. Simply making his presence known to the
Tribesmates.

Salem's head snaps around rather sharply, but he relaxes upon noting
exactly who it is prowling up into his blind spot.

Guards-Flame is hanging out with the Walker pack, having decided to join
them in on their decision.

Duane nods, grateful, and seems to mirror Touch Deer's nod of agreement.
"I'ma second Wendigo," he says, voice finally loud and clear. ~There's
/strong/ history here, and that history is full of Wendigo. He is still
here, though - I hear his voice in the wind at the bluff. I think he needs
/real/ considerin' is all. I know others - lots of others - agree with
that.~ After speaking, he seems to melt immediately back to his position
at the edge of the group.

Lyra watches and listens intently, whispering to Yi every so often with
questions.

Quentin simply stands, both arms sliding to cross over his chest and fold
there to keep himself from fidgeting again, in Salem's shadow..
occasionally leaning up to murmur a question to Salem of his own,
generally when he doesn't recognize a word spoken in the Mother's Tongue.
A slight smile and a salute of fingers to brow and away as he notices that
John's joined them, as well.

Storm-Singer stands, snifting to his glabro form. ~I must disagree with
both Kristine /and/ Duane. Strength is important. But we did not take back
our caern through mere brute force. Wendigo is a respected Totem, but
neither this caern nor this sept reflect him in any way. The Shadow Lords
recommend consideration of Magpie, for we stole back what was ours through
lightning action and a pinch of treachery and deceit.~ He smiles. ~Or did
we send engraved invitations for the Dancer Elders to travel to Erebus?~

Yi responds to Lyra's whispers questions quietly, confining her side of
the conversation to Mandarin, but keeping an eye and ear on the
discussion.

John slowly closes his eyes, preventing a wince, as Jarred speaks for
Magpie. He leans over to murmur quietly in question to Salem.

John's whisper: How goes the vote so far?

Sith-Fhuil's attention is rapt upon the Fang as she speaks, a veiled look
of surprise and satisfaction marking her wolven features. In any event,
she seems heartened by Kristine's words, flowing up into warform when
Andrea gestures, and flashing the crowd an unexpected grin, eyes agleam.
~My choice remains the Warrior, Bear. She is the strength that the caern
needs in its new beginnings, and the longevity and quiet power that will
ensure that this remains as great a Caern as it has always been. Part of
this,~ She gestures with a taloned paw, ~will always change. Bear /is/
that change that we need. A totem not affiliated with any one tribe, but a
totem that represents us all, defines our home. What we /fight/ for.~ A
beat, a breath, then: ~Stands-Proud speaks true, about perserverence. Like
Bear, in her trials over Honor, we have overcome devastation, shown that
we /won't/ go down without a real fight. We fought. We won. We need a
spirit that /is/ our strength.~

All that Storm-Singer gets from Kristine is a simple arched brow, and a
mildly amused smirk.

Salem glances sidelong at John, then mutters his answer.

Shifting down to her breedform, Alicia leans over and starts to whisper in
Francisco's ear.

Andrea raises her eyebrows at that. Though her voice remains unruffled,
there's a finality in the tones, ~The Rite of the Silver Forge is not
treachery or deceit. One might even call it the most painful truth.
Regardless, it is a struggle for the spirit, as a battle of claws is a
struggle for the body.~

You whisper "The Fang spoke for Bear or Wendigo. The Fianna for the Wyld
spirit. Then the Uktena for Wendigo. And you've just heard the Shadow
Lord's vote." to John.

Francisco consults in a low murmur with Alicia for a moment.

Jarred doesn't respond to the Alpha's words, though it's clear he is
unimpressed by them.

Tempered-Blade echos her packmate. ~Charyss' realm is the ultimate truth.
In a sense, there were invitations written for the Dancers to her realm.
They wrote them with their own claws when they took this place.~

Touch Deer only watches the mud for a moment as Erebus is briefly spoken
about. His eyes lift up, afterwards, to Susan.

Alicia looks pensive for a few moments as she mulls a few thoughts about,
trading whispers back and forth with her pack brother.

Tobin simply sits quietly and listens to all that is said.

Andrea narrows her eyes as Jarred's unimpressed lack of response. Her tone
remains mostly calm, though it goes colder. ~Or do you say otherwise,
Jarred Storm-Singer? Do you say that the place that burns out all
corruption is a nest of it?~

At this turn in the conversation, Quentin's expression clouds over a bit
in mild confusion.. and he edges in a bit back closer to Salem, looking up
to the scarred Walker with a furrowed brow and murmurs in softest tones up
towards him.

Quentin whispers "What's this.. Erebus thing they're talking about?"

Kristine frowns a bit, though, watching the drama unfold, and she seems to
join many others, tilting her head down to murmur something to Tobin.

Jarred shakes his head. ~With all respect, Alpha, I simply point out that
we lured them there against their will. That was duplicitous. I applaud
the action, don't get me wrong. They deserved far worse. But make no
mistake. They did not simply skip hand in hand to their doom. We tricked
them.~

Tobin shakes his head minutely at his tribemate and whispers back, eyes
still on Jarred.

Sith-Fhuil rolls her massive shoulders back, twisting eyes toward the
Shadow Lord when Andrea questions him. She watches him
curiously--amusedly, even, awaiting a reply.

Golden-Eyes sits quietly. She has been reserved since she arrived at the
caern this evening. Her expression is blank as she looks from one to the
other.

Salem speaks quietly to the Walker cub, sparing not even a glance toward
the Shadow Lord Galliard.

Tempered-Blade looks to her alpha. ~I do not think he understands the
nature of the rite. But is this the time to debate such? Wendigo, Bear,
Wyld and Mapgie. Surely there are others to speak for and against?~

~Those who lost their lives for this caern did not do so through lies and
deceit,~ Yi points out with a brief shift up to glabro so she could add
her voice of accented Mother Tongue. ~But by inner strength and a spirit
to fight on for the caern to see it retaken and restored. The rite to send
the corrupted to the Silver River was not a lie, but a revealing of
truth.~ She pauses, before getting back to a more on topic discussion. ~I
do not see Bear as change, but as healing. I remember the bear spirit that
came in response to a call for healing at the island in Lake Arthur.~ She
glances briefly to Ouroboros when she mentions Arthur Island, but it is
very quick. ~And this caern does need healing.~

Andrea says simply, ~I see. In that we tricked the ones that we sent
unwilling to their deaths, as well.~ She shakes her head dismissively,
saying, ~We distract the conversation. You will see shadows where you
will, child of Thunder.~ She motions to Wildfire, who looks ready to
speak.

You whisper "It's... like Purgatory. A place in the far Umbra where Garou
who are corrupted go to have all taint cleansed from them. Painfully." to
Quentin.

Wildfire gets to his paws as he catches Andrea's nod. He shifts upward to
the war-form for his voice to boom out for all present to hear. ~I agree
with a few voices tonight. I agree whole-heartedly that we, as a sept,
have persevered over strenuous obstacles and we are stronger for it. And I
also agree that no totem aligned to a tribe should be picked. If so, I
would voice for Fenris, for what is he but strength? I doubt any of you
would be able to stand with him for long, for his judgement is often
heavy. For that I disagree with Wendigo. His tribe may have been here in
these woods the longest, but never has he sat in this Caern. If you want
old school and history, pick the mountain cat once again. We have been
down that path already, though. I will side with strength.~

Touch Deer remains subdued, un-stereotypically calm for Wendigo as the
torturous Realm he only recently returned from is briefly argued over. He
listens with interest to Wildfire when he speaks.

John's mouth twists wryly at the Get's speech, but he doesn't seem to
disagree at all. The Walker Ahroun folds his arms as he watches
proceedings silently.

Seeker stands and steps forward from the crowd, surveying the garou
present. "What happened to this caern should not happen to any caern, nor
should it ever happen again to this caern. We must never *allow* it to
happen again. What we need is unceasing vigilance, relentless vengeance,
strengthened defenses, the ability to react and strike back quickly and
forcefully against any further transgression. Of the totems presented to
us as choices, I personally feel that Wendigo is the best choice to
achieve those ends, along with Bear and Stag to a lesser degree. We can no
longer afford to rest on our laurels and wait for the next attack to
come."

Duane frowns. Something Wildfire has said does not sit well with him.
"Uh-uh," he mutters, shooting a glance across the way toward Touch Deer,
then looks back toward Andrea.

Peacekeeper just pads through most of the crowd to a position where he can
watch the continuing discussion without comment for the moment.

Andrea gestures at Nightflash, who waits his turn. She nods at Duane,
though its apparent she's indicated someone else first.

Nightfire chuffs softly in the negative. I have nothing to say.

"Oh." Quentin's lips purse for a moment as he listens to Salem's words and
lets them sink in, and as they do he shudders just a bit. A swallow, the
apple of his throat rising and falling, before he turns back to watching
and listening.

Francisco finishes his little conference with Alicia and waits for Andrea
to indicate he is to speak.

Alicia leans back from Frankie and gives him a squeeze on the shoulder.

Sith-Fhuil's fiery-red muzzle juts toward Yi, head inclining in a slow
nod. ~Indeed. And were Eye-of-Ra here, I believe she would have been first
to speak for Bear, the nurturer. Strength cannot come from a wounded
thing. And Bear will help us mend our wounds; she is strong in this way,
also.~

Nightfire goes over to the pool and looks into it, then disappears.
Nightfire lightly touches the shimmering stone at the caern's heart.
Nightfire's form seems to be more real for just a moment, then he vanishes.

Yi nods once at Sith, before shifting down and adding another whispered
commentary to Lyra.

Kristine's head just sort of tilts left to right as people move about the
choices. She does seem to be standing up a little straighter though, for
some reason or another.

Little Bear appears on the fringes of the crowd, making his way wordlessly
to Reggie and Duane.

Salem regards Quentin for a moment more, studying the cub's reaction. Then
he nods and turns his attention back to the debate.

Tobin continues to keep his peace, legs crossed and hands resting on his
knees in an almost meditative fashion.

Lyra tilts her head, biting her lower lip as the Gnawer ragabash whispers
to her. She nods when Yi is finished, but remains standing, gaze stuck on
Andrea. The cub looks like she wants to speak, but is too shy to call
attention to herself. One of those "I hope she notices me, gee I hope she
doesn't" moments.

Golden-Eyes nods her head suddenly in response to Sith-Fhuil and stumbles
up to her paws. ~I have been weighing everyone's words for the past days
between the moot and tonight.~ She eye those around her, ~Choose wisely,
not for yourself but our sept as a whole. Think of what totem will benefit
and will fit all of us, not just yourself and your tribe.~ She nods her
head and sits once again.

Andrea's voice gentles as she looks at Lyra. ~Anyone can speak that wishes
to.~ She glances sideways at Little Bear; obviously the cub isn't the only
one she expects to take the offer.

Reggie greets Little Bear with news which he whispers while pointing at
various people around the caern.

Little Bear listens intently, nodding periodically. He glances around,
stone-faced.

Duane also greets Little Bear quietly, pointing around at a few of the
others, then elbowing, urging him to speak.

Kristine notices Little Bear, tilting her head.

Touch Deer seems to have rested his attention, with many others, on Little
Bear.

Lyra blinks as Andrea looks -back- at her, something the cub dared hope,
but didn't really expect. She glances to Yi, wordlessly asking permission
from her.

Yi gives the young cub a faint smile and a nod, silently indicating to go
ahead and speak.

Late-comers aren't unusual, it seems. Cameron, the Aussie Fianna,
discreetly picks his way through undergrowth to enter the clearing as
quietly as possible. Which isn't very. He sheepishly peeks about at the
gathered Garou, choosing to listen rather than speak. ...For now.

Little Bear steps up, hands on hips. He looks around at the gathered, face
blank. He hesitates a moment, then frowns in thought. "All of the totems
that have been said here are good spirits. Bear is wise, and full of
healing, and never was She considered dishonorable by the Pure Ones.
Unicorn is also a healing totem, and would be good with our alpha and our
Ritemaster. Maybe too good, lots of Children of Gaia in high positions.
But that's for the judges to decide. I'm no good with games of power." He
shakes his head, looking off into the trees. "I think what we all need to
think about here is what's right. What's fair." He glances at Reggie, then
Duane, and finally Touch Deer. "In some of our stories, long long ago, it
is said that there was a spirit, named Sasquatch. A powerful, tall
creature, he protected the Pure Ones on their journey to this land. His
heart was as big as a mountain, and he loved his people with all his
heart. But the journey was long, and the Horned One's warriors were always
trying to stop or trick or kill the people. Always from behind, they
attacked. And so in the rear Sasquatch fought, and his most beloved fought
with him. So many died. Sasquatch mourned them all. Finally he could cry
no more tears. His heart itself turned to ice from the cold and the battle
and the fury at seeing his people die. He became Wendigo, and his anger
gives all his children strength." He looks around at those gathered now.
"Always Wendigo has protected his people. His holy places.
Great-Grandmother herself. He gave his heart for her. For his people. For
this very land. It is Wendigo's. It has always been Wendigo's. It will
always be Wendigo's, no matter what papers say. It was taken from Wendigo
and it should be given back." He narrows his eyes. "Wendigo and his
children will always protect this place. No matter who claims it. But it
is right, and it is fair, for him to be part of it again. The third law
states, 'Respect the Territory of Another.' I do not have to list how many
times this has broken in this land. All here know the stories. It is time
to obey this law again. Bring Wendigo back home." He purses his lips, nods
shortly. "That is all I have to say."

Touch Deer flows upwards and assumes his Crinos shape. Looking at no one,
just the crowd as a whole, the scarred Ahroun briefly states his opinion.
~I believe these lands were once under the protection of Wendigo. This
Caern was lost at a time when the lands were being taken unjustly. It
would be powerful very honorable medicine for Wendigo to be asked to
protect this Caern once more. That is what I think. Many of you have said
you believe strength is needed for the Sept at this time. Wendigo will
provide that. Susan has said whichever spirit becomes our Caern's Totem
will have to deal with the Wyld spirit beneath us. Wendigo would do that
well, better than any of the other spirits mentioned so far. This is what
I think.~ He finishes, nods to the crowd, and steps back.

Golden-Eyes finally gets the courage to stand and look to Andrea. Shifting
into crinos, she stands upright and looks to see when would be the right
time to speak.

Jarred speaks up once more. ~Again, the Wendigo, while an honorable tribe,
make up a very small portion of the greater whole. Wildfire's words were
wise. We should not adopt a totem alligned with a specific tribe.~

Francisco lifts his head and raises his voice to address the caern.
Although he doesn't shift, he's heard quite easily enough. "On behalf of
Synthesis and the Glass Walkers of St. Claire, I advocate Stag. He is
fertility, strength, and growth, and a respected totem of old who can
welcome all of us." By 'us' there's little doubt of who he means, with so
many votes already for Wendigo. "Going further into the realm of War would
do us less good, now, than a more moderate path. We need strength, and we
need the connection to the Wyld spirit which sleeps beneath us. Stag can
bring us these things."

Reggie steps up, raising his voice to be heard over the throng. "We're at
war!", he exclaims. "We may have won this caern back, but the war will not
end with this battle. We need strength on our side, a totem wise in the
ways of war. Wendigo fought with us, Wendigo is strong, and Wendigo knows
war. Wendigo is a wise choice."

Almost meekly, Cycle-Breaker makes her way to the center of the caern,
stopping and flicking her ears slightly. She approaches Alicia, and nudges
her friend's leg; the Black Fury says nothing yet on the topic of totems.

Yi eyes her Wendigo packmate as he speaks, and when he is finished her
eyes roam to respetive speakers. There is, however, a bit of doubt in
those eyes of hers as she continues to listen to the discussions.

Duane crosses his arms and nods as Little Bear and Touc Deer speak; it is
a gesture of finality.

Kristine's features come down slightly again, hearing the arguements.

Salem's expression has hardened with the further votes for Wendigo. He
speaks the Mother Tongue without shifting upwards, twisting a humanoid
throat into making noises it wasn't built for, harshly. ~_Many_ spirits
fought with us. Not just Wendigo.~

Little Bear stands with Duane and Touch Deer, arms folded as well. He
stares at the rock in the center of the caern, an intent look on his face.

"We are -at- war, but what we -are- is not War," Francisco insists.

Lyra unclasps her hands to raise one slightly, looking to Andrea.

Tobin, fairly silent this whole time, gets to his feet and shifts to
Crinos, indicating to Andrea that he would speak.

Cameron grumbles under his breath, then suddenly speaks up in
disagreement. "And Stag dun't know shit about fighting? We can't /always/
be at war. I mean... fuck... we've /always/ been at war for the last
bloody thousand years! A Caern shouldn't be all about the fighting. You
only have to look at it in the shadow to know that. You've only got to see
the beauty that's just sittin' there, enjoyin' itself. The Wyld. Where do
you go to recharge? To get that spirit lovin' and feel at peace with Gaia
again? The Caern. We got to have both worlds. War, and recovery. And
frankly, Stag offers it all. Work hard. Play hard. Die hard. You couldn't
pick a better totem for living intensely and /healthily/." He pauses and
clears his throat. "And, uh, sorry for bein' out of turn and all that."

Andrea does not seem displeased with Little Bear's words, but she does
mention, ~As now, I am the only member of the Children of Gaia that serves
the sept in an official position. The Ritemaster is still Elan Shadow Eyes
of the Bone Gnawers, until he is challenged for it.~ She gestures at
Tobin, and then at the expectant-looking Alicia.

Quiet Wind frowns as the conversation begins to swerve in the direction of
myriad smaller debates.

Wildfire grunts, adding seemingly to Salem's words, ~And Wendigo was never
a totem here, yet you want to give it 'back'?~ He then reminds Andrea that
Nightfire is still Master of Challenges.

Andrea adds, when she gets a curious look from Little Bear, ~Nightflash
does serve as Master of the Challenge, but not of the Rite.~

Cycle-Breaker flicks an ear, glancing to Lyra and Tobin. She turns her
attentions to Andrea, and makes a low chuff, indicating that she too would
like a turn to speak.

Yi glances back at Lyra and her raised hand, then to the crowd again.

Little Bear nods, standing corrected. And correctly. Excellent posture on
that one.

Sith-Fhuil's expression darkens, but the look in her eyes suggests that
she's given the other suggestions due consideration. After a moment or
three, she raises her voice again, ~Wendigo and Stag, strength and wisdom,
yes. Wendigo may have been what we needed, once upon a time. But no longer
can he /truly/ represent us all. And Stag, his wisdom is valuable, but as
the /caern/ totem, it is Bear's strength and healing that will bond the
strongest with the awakened Wyld.~ Of this, she seems certain, and is sure
to let the others know.

~You say that anything but a totem of war is weak, well I think wrong.~
Golden-Eyes says, ~I have been to the umbra and have seen the spirit of
the stag. No, the stag is not weak for being one of respect. The stag is
furious and has strong as any totem I have ever seen.~ Her head bobs to
Francisco's words, and then to Cameron. ~The Stag is a suitable choice for
everyone here, and I have heard words from the lot of you over the past
days since the moot.~

Quiet Wind looks about, eyes tracking different people's offered opinions
as the spring up.

Finally, one cub is too excited to wait her turn. Lyra steps forward
slightly, forgetting, or not knowing, to speak in the Mother Tongue. "I
know I'm just a cub, and haven't been with the Sept for very long," she
says a bit shyly, voice carrying clearly and a bit fast in her
nervousness. "But I was speaking with Elan-rhya earlier, and he spoke a
bit about Bear. Everything said about her so far is true. I think we need
her healing, and the great protectiveness a mother bear has for her cubs.
She would use her strength to protect us. And she'd get along with the
Wyld spirits, I think...she's a forest creature." The Gnawer cub falters,
as her knowledge of how spirits interact shows to be very, very little.
But she plunges onward again after a moment, seemingly undaunted.
"Elan-rhya also spoke of dishonor. But I think if we accepted Bear as our
Totem, she would be grateful that we did not hold such things against her,
and be all the happier for it. Then we will be happy to have a spirit, and
she would be happy to have us. As for Wendigo, the North Wind-" Here the
halfmoon pauses and glances at Little Bear worriedly "-strength and sense
of duty is not all that should be considered. A spirit for the Caern
should welcome all. A spirit shunned knows how it feels to be left out,
and thus welcomes all with open arms." Then she steps back behind Yi,
looking surprised at herself for speaking without too much stuttering.

Calls-Spirits stands straight and looks here and there at those present.
~Salem is correct, many spirits fought with us to regain the caern, and
were it not without their help, we would not have won. They were able to
hold the defense of the caern in the spirit realm long enough to destroy
two Nexus Crawlers, and so we did not have to face them ourselves when we
retook the caern,~ he says calmly, in a quiet tone that somehow carries to
all there. ~Now we have regained our holy place but it is weakened, and in
need of great healing. Without that healing our caern will /not/ be the
same place of power as it was before. Powerful, yes, but not what it was.~
A pause, and then he goes on. ~I am a child of Falcon, and Honor is our
meat and drink, but because of that we have often been blinded in the past
to the wisest path. My vote is for Bear. With Bear the caern will get the
strength and healing it needs. With a healed and strong caern, we will be
able to attract new spirits to live with us, and it is my belief that our
choice will be seen as a wise one by the spirit courts, without whose
followers we would not even be being able to have this debate tonight.~ He
settles back down onto his haunches, remaining in Crinos. ~I propose that
Bear is the wisest path, here.~

Yi straightens up when her cub comes back to her, protectively.

Alicia leans down and brushes her fingers through Helen's fur, then steps
forward to speak as well. "Yes, we are at war." Her voice rings out true
through the crowd. "We as Garou, will always be at war, that is something
easily said and noted. But also know that now that the Caern is won back,
we are starting fresh once again, alive, and respirited. Though Wendigo
seems like a good choice by all, do we want to live with constant
bloodshed and rage, having it cloud our mind? I speak on the behalf of
Stag myself, for he is the great grandfather that first taught us as
Garou, our ties to nature, to the Wyld affinity which rests beneath our
feet right now. We must take this new start that Gaia has gaven us, our
second chance, and harvest it so that we may become only stronger. Stag is
an icon of such growth, he draws strength from his youth, keeping them
healthy, wild, free. He is strong, unyielding in battle, and one who can
serve us well in our final fights together." She dips her head, glancing
to each one, sucking a slow breath between her teeth. "He is a totem of
Respect, one which can honour the land, and the mother, we serve."

Little Bear just stares at the cub for a long moment, then cocks his head,
listening.

Kristine quirks a smile to her tribemate, before hmming lightly as STag
becomes just as popular as Wendigo and Bear; something she's not against
either.

Little Bear mutters, "Some of us didn't need to be taught."

Quiet Wind's eyes move to his Tribesmate as he mutters something. The
older Ahroun looks a little sour, as well.

Calls-Spirits comments calmly to Little Bear, ~/Everyone/ needs to be
taught, when they're young. Even the Wendigo were young, once.~

Rides-Fire flicks his good ear irritably, where he stands next to
Wildfire. ~I honor Stag,~ he says. ~And he does have antlers, and hooves,
when he must. But Stag is prey, not predator. I would not speak to him of
strength in war.~

Little Bear nods to Rides-Fire.

Sith-Fhuil rumbles out, when the timing's right. ~Any who think a totem
stands for one thing exclusively, is foolish. Fog was wisdom, yes, but did
he not bring us strength or respect in his own way? Bear is not only the
power of war--she is the strength of reclaiming, healing, starting anew.
/WE/ are the /perfect/ caern to invite her. When we lend our Honor, she
will be more than formidable.~

Francisco half-turns to look at Calls-Spirits, a very thoughtful
expression indeed on his face.

~I agree about Stag,~ Cycle-Breaker says, lifting her eyes. ~Stag being
strong, and all of that, we need it. We need wisdom and growth, and it
seems to me Stag can offer that. I don't know a lot about spirits, but I
agree with Cameron and Alicia about Stag being our totem.~ She settles
onto her haunches, falling silent.

"With those antlers and hooves, Stag becomes a strong defense, when he
becomes the prey. Though he may be chased, he wounds his foe just as well
as the next great beast." Alicia says, sliding her hands into her jacket.

John lifts his head slightly, shifting upwards into Glabro to interrupt.
~I am no stranger to dishonour. None of us are, given that we allowed our
Caern to be violated - though it was beyond our abilities, that remains
the shame of the Hidden Walk, only slightly expunged by the reclamation,
and the deaths of many Dancers. But you only need to look upon the
desecration that was wrought. The wounds inflicted on Gaia, to know that
we were not enough. And that we have failed her. We do not need, now, a
totem that will draw more shame upon us. Shame is to be tolerated and
overcome. Not wallowed in. In following Stag, it may be that our
reputation as a Sept can slowly be salvaged. The Garou Nation is NOT one
Sept. We are not alone, though with the aid we received, we may as well
have been. Perhaps now is the time to think on how we may seek to be
worthy, rather than tend our Caern in grubby, dishonourable solitude.
Those seeking strength and healing... know that there is often a price or
sacrifice for honour. And that Stag is easily as versatile."

Lyra whispers to Yi, smiling nervously. She catches the tail end of Little
Bear's stare, and blinks- but by then he's looked otherwise and she can't
convince herself it was really there.

Chance mentions, nodding, ~Stag /is/ preferable, if I am given the choice
between those three. Wendigo is blinded by his rage, as are his children.
Bear will leech what little honor we seem to retain in this sept in the
eyes of the rest of the garou nation. We can ill afford either extreme.~

Andrea glances around curiously. ~There are those that speak for Stag,~
she says as she summarizes. ~Those for Bear. And those for Wendigo. The
others have been mentioned in honor, but not repeated. Are we settled on
those three, or does anyone wish to speak for another totem that has not
spoken yet?~

Wildfire actually rubs the part of his muzzle where it meets the rest of
his head with his right hand, a slight headache forcing itself foreward.
He mutters something to Rides-Fire.

Yi adds in a grate of human vocal chords trying to mix with the Mother
Tongue, ~Hope that we haven't forgotten to choose with Wisdom.~

Little Bear narrows his eyes at Chance, but his actions give lie to the
Silver Fang's words as he does not immediately beat him into a bloody
pulp. Though he's obviously thinking about it.

Quiet Wind, perhaps uncharachteristically for Wendigo, makes no sign of
being offended at Chance's comment about Wendigo being blind, but actually
nods in apparent agreement (on some level).

Duane growls, voice audible, even at the edge of the gathering, when
Chance speaks. "Blinded my black ass," he mutters, mostly to himself.

Lyra looks at Chance and then John, frowning slightly. "If you turn away
one who has been shamed, there can be no overcoming or cleansing of their
shame," she calls out, a little more hotly than she intended, caught up in
the moment. "Why not bring honor to Bear? Symbiotic relationship, and the
like?"

John looks down to Lyra. "There is no honour to be found in clinging to
what you can take. When a king shares with a beggar it is generosity and
value in the eyes of others. When two beggars share, it is a joke. We
would have to achieve mighty deeds to overcome the weight of twice as much
shame," he explains more lowly.

Little Bear gives Lyra a look. It could be a 'hush up, cub' look, or a
'what the hell is symbiotic' look.

Rides-Fire snorts a soft agreement with Wildfire. I think that is why
Nightfire left.

Peacekeeper notes simply that we have better things to fight than each
other, even over something as important as the caern's totem. If it is
healing and honor that is desired, then ~Unicorn~ could be considered a
compromise, even if she is without those who fight with other Garou for
her. Such is not her way.

Alicia reaches over and gives Helen a light scritch behind the ears,
listening to her Elder speak about Unicorn now.

Salem flicks a glance sidelong at John and jerks his head in a nod of
agreement.

Quiet Wind points a talon in Robert's direction. ~Yes. Peacekeepr-rhya
speaks wise words. We would do well to try and cooperate and make a wise
decision. We should not make a mistake of trying to argue and prove our
idea is the best out of all.~

Little Bear just looks at Peacekeeper.

Now it's Jarred's turn to rub his temples. ~Respectfully,
Peacekeeper-Rhya, how is Unicorn a compromise when it is clearly alligned
with the Children of Gaia, put forth as a possibility by an Athro Gaian,
in a sept where the Alpha is a Gaian herself?~

Reggie nudges Little Bear and whispers.

John smiles tightly at Jarred, rumbling, "Those are arguments /for/
Unicorn. Strength in leadership."

It's clear Lyra has no idea who John is, or that John knows Salem. Such
ignorance leads her on. "If two beggars share, it's no joke. It's sweet.
Those who share what little they have means they give more. A king can
share because it won't hurt him very much," the Gnawer shoots back, temper
in check, but just slightly. Who knew? She blinks at Quiet Wind's words,
then blushes, looking ashamed. But not very apologetic.

Little Bear eyes John. "Not if you want to include everyone."

Yi does briefly clear her throat, glancing long at John, before she looks
back to Lyra. Or the back of her head, anyway.

John puts his attention to Little Bear. "The Gaians have influence here,
in the affairs of the Garou. The Wendigo have little to none," he states,
flatly. "A guiding force not open to all would at least need to be working
with the leadership and representatives of the Sept."

Sith-Fhuil snorts toward John. While she doesn't disagree with what has
been said for Stag, she finds his description of Bear less than savory.
~Some would question our caern. As I have already mentioned, /WE/ we
caught off-guard, nearly destroyed. /Any/ totem we choose to invite will
be investing no small amount of blind faith in us. Should we be forced to
live in shame for our failings? Have we not persevered? Yes, if we choose,
we can turn away Bear's strength--deny ourselves the very thing we
need--because of old disputes and rumors. Tell me: do you wish to lead, or
follow? If we deny Bear because of...'dishonor,' then we follow every
caern or pack or single Garou who has done the same. You choose.~

Jarred chuckles at the Lyra-Cub. ~Well then.. naturally. We do so endeavor
to be sweet here.~ His comment doesn't seem as mocking as it really
should, under the circumstances.

Francisco looks at Little Bear askance, but he doesn't give the obvious
rebuttal, preferring, perhaps to keep the infighting down to a dull roar.

Little Bear shrugs. "Wendigo's open to all. Just don't piss him off and he
won't eat you."

Wildfire grumbles lowly for a moment. ~Just how, Quiet-Wind, do you expect
that to happen? Just now Peacekeeper-Rhya has thrown Unicorn into the lot.
I should drag Shadow-of-Blood out from the woods next to make a pitch for
Griffon? Every tribe, please make a vouch for you own Totem and get it
over with.~

Andrea comments, ~Unicorn accepts all Garou as her children. She is a
totem that has no compare as a healer, yet does not cause dishonor. In
that way she is a compromise.~

Peacekeeper responds calmly that Unicorn is a totem of healing, which
seems to be one major point requested by those who push for Bear, and yet
not often seen to be as dishonored as Bear. Unicorn includes all, child of
Thunder, not just those born to her.

Yi does shoot a look at Wildfire and his sarcasm, but otherwise makes no
move to 'vouch' for the Gnawer totem. Not with this group. The ragabash's
jawline tenses, but keeps her quiet.

Peacekeeper chuffs at Wildfire, showing some amusement. The Hunter would
not have this sept.

Lyra, despite her own good nature, can't help but glare uselessly at
Jarred. When he's not looking her way, of course.

Salem's eye falls on Lyra again, as it did when she first entered the
caern tonight. His look is critical as he studies her.

Wildfire grunts to Peacekeeper. ~Perhaps that makes him the best choice of
all.~

Little Bear shakes his head. "This talking doesn't decide anything. Even
if we agree to call one or the other, there is no guarantee they will
answer. I say open the call, and see who comes, and decide from there."

Quiet Wind looks, now to his Alpha, but when he speaks it is also to the
crowd as a whole. ~I do not see the wisdom of choosing the spirit we ask
as our Totem by way of any compromising. I would hope the spirit was
chosen by you, for you are our Leader and very wise in these matters,
besides. I do not think a Totem should be picked by way of which one the
majority of us want. I do not think a spirit that we compromise to agree
on instead of Wendigo, Stag, or Bear is a wise way of choosing, either.
That is just what I think.~

Cycle-Breaker chuffs in agreement with Little Bear.

Chance chuffs in amusement. ~Sorry about this, but I'm just doing my duty
as a New-Moon. Seems to me that Wildfire's right. Every tribe just seems
to be pitching their own favorites. I vote for ROCK! Rock is strong! Rock
is Old! Rock is patient! Rock will not easily be broken! Rock! Rock!
Rock!~

Andrea's voice turns slightly amused. ~Where Gaia's will will be the
deciding card in who answers our call, I would like to call one that will
answer.~

Little Bear says "You already know Wendigo will answer."

Andrea nods at Little Bear. ~I speak of calling Griffon, whom we know
would not.~

Little Bear shrugs. "He might. The answer would be no, but it would be an
answer."

Francisco says lowly, "Unicorn would be an acceptable compromise, for the
reasons you say, Bitter-Cup-rhya."

Quiet Wind nods between Andrea and Little Bear, agreeing with the point
made by his alpha.

~Perhaps we can call on Grass,~ Cycle-Breaker says, mostly to herself. She
eyes Chance, and then turns attentions to Little Bear. ~What if you are
wrong? Wendigo may not answer. Aren't we all unpure according to him
anyway? Except you, of course.~

"I really have no problem with Unicorn, or Stag. In my opinion, both would
be more then acceptable." Alicia comments as she glances sideways to them.

John inclines his head in agreement with Francisco. ~Given the conflict
here, I see a healthy compromise in Unicorn.~

Yi glances at the other ragabi in the group calling out their opinion. She
just shakes her head at their suggestions, and steps back from the rest of
the crowd.

Little Bear says "The Wendigo care about purity. Wendigo cares about his
people. There are many who call themselves Wendigo that many Wendigo do
not agree with. Yet Wendigo answers their call just as he does the most
pure-blooded of us."

Quiet Wind seems to shake his head at Cycle Breaker, clearly disagreeing.

Duane says, again, mostly to those around him, "Wendigo cares about
strength and honor. Not where you come from, not what song is in yo'
blood. Strength and honor, two things we need to get this place back on
its feet. It ain't all that hard, yo."

Lyra calms down a bit, though arms are folded now. "May I ask how Bear
shamed herself so greatly that all her wisdom, strength, and healing
cannot be seen beyond it?" The question is said calmly, openly. The cub
stands her ground, now completely absorbed in the discussion.

Cycle-Breaker says nothing; she just tosses her head.

Little Bear nods to Duane, then turns to Cycle-breaker. "And I know
Wendigo will answer because when I got his help to win back this place,
the only thing he asked for, besides the hearts of our enemies, was for me
to try and make him totem of this sept."

John mutters under his breath, "Which is precisely why we /don't/ call for
the insane fucker."

~Oh. That's a good reason,~ Cycle-Breaker says to Little Bear, bobbing her
head in understanding. ~I understand now. But I still don't think Wendigo
would be good for us.~

Jarred shakes his head. ~Point of order, Alpha. It seems highly
inappropriate to hold a vote for the new totem. Yet here we all sit,
acting as if this will all come down to a secret ballot or some other such
political mechanism. The Garou Nation is not a democracy. You are Alpha.
You will make the decision, or should, at any rate. For all the talk of
Unicorn being a compromise, wouldn't you agree that adopting that spirit
as our Caern Totem would, in fact, have the fortunate and wholly
coincidental side-effect of solidifying the power of the Children of Gaia
in this sept? Do we have any reason to expect that you will not deliberate
carefully and end up choosing that which you espouse as the superior
totem?~

Sith-Fhuil shrinks down to homid, tension crackling off of her. Layne
tosses fire-red hair from her face, then states the following, "Unicorn is
not a poor choice. Though in the interest of gaining strength /with/
healing, and maintaining a totem that isn't of any one tribe, I would
still choose Bear." She punctuates that last with a sharp nod, stuffing
hands into pockets. Far as she's concerned, she's said what's needed, and
falls silent.

Calls-Spirits grumbles to Jarred, ~As has been mentioned before, the
decision is not, in the end, ours. We call for a Totem, and one that deems
us worthy responds. Gaia is the will, not the Ritemaster.~

"For the love of Gaia. Does it always have to be a session of politics?
This Totem is to symbolize our Sept, and who we are. We have to think what
will benefit the land and our people. I do not think Andrea is trying to
solidfy anything, except getting our asses in gear." Alicia notes as she
glances to Jarred.

Peacekeeper tilts his head as he looks at Jarred with some slight degree
of annoyance. If you are so ignorant of the spirits that you would confuse
Unicorn with Thunder, then you have had poor teachers.

Jarred simply states. ~I know the nature of Garou. I have seen it all too
often. I stand by my words, and my teachers.~

Wildfire shakes out his ruff. ~I still do not agree to choose any tribal
totem so that any tribe can use it to their advantage, be it Wendigo,
Unicorn, or Stag. I have spent too much time as of late cleaning this
place of fuck-stains, ass-spraining dildos, and what the hell ever that
bowling trophy we found in the steam vents was used for to let anyone lord
there favorite Totem-toy over me.~

Cycle-Breaker glances to Wildfire, eyes narrowing slightly. ~That's nice.~

~The one Wendigo spirit I spoke of said that he would come if we called,~
Andrea says toward Cycle-Breaker. ~I was concerned how a Wendigo spirit
would feel in this place, which has so many tribes, so I spoke to one
after I spoke to Little Bear. He spoke of what a Wyrmcomer is resides in
the heart.~ She then turns toward Synthesis. ~Certainly I would be glad to
call on Unicorn to aid us,~ she answers them. She then turns back to
Jarred. Her voice hardens again. ~But those that would see shadows would
see them in such a choice. A vote? Do you think I am so arrogant, Jarred?
Are you so arrogant as to think we can decide if Gaia has another plan?
What we do here today is to make sure the sept has a whole heart when we
call, that we do not poison the ritual to bind that which answers with
bitterness and bile. Will it change my power or rank if Unicorn guides
here instead of Wendigo? I have followed Uktena for more years than I have
known you. She is at least as much a part of me as Unicorn is. I will
serve any spirit that serves this place, so that it does not fall again.~

Peacekeeper flicks an annoyed ear at Jarred. Confuse the two again, and
you will sit by your words. Build up, child of Thunder, do not just tear
down for the sake of tearing.

Salem keeps his peace, standing as though there were a steel rod bolted to
his spine, arms folded and jaw clenched. Every so often he glances down at
Quentin to see how well the cub's following things.

Little Bear narrows his eyes at Wildfire. "The Wendigo are honorable. To
say otherwise is to insult our entire tribe. The Wendigo are also not
stupid enough to think that they could possibly control Wendigo. Wendigo
controls Wendigo. If he agrees to help, it is his choice, not the words of
his followers."

Duane growls again in the back of his throat. "What, the /three/ Wendigo
here is gonna get some huge advantage from having their tribe's totem
come? Sheeeit, man."

Lyra's self-confidence falters as her question is completely passed over,
and sighs softly.

Layne turns eyes, and a tight-lipped smile, toward Jarred. 'Because that's
what /you/ would do,' she muses silently to herself.

Chance says, ~ROCK! ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!~

Cycle-Breaker adds, ~I just think we should stop arguing and call upon the
spirits, see who wants to be the caern's totem. Whatever spirit finds us
worthy enough is good for me. If we get Wendigo, Stag, Bear, or even Rock,
I don't care, we need a totem and soon.~

Little Bear nods to Cycle-Breaker.

Alicia eyes Chance. "Dude, I'm going to kick you so hard, that you'll be
drinking your dinner through a straw."

Yi continues gazing around, seeing no one to be answering Lyra's brief
askance of a explaination for Bear's shame, moves up to briefly tap her on
the shoulder before saying aloud, "Then what are we waiting for? Step
across, and call until a spirit deems this sept worthy enough to be
patroned."

John lowers his head and closes his eyes, gently pinching the bridge of
his nose.

Calls-Spirits glares at Chance.

Quentin, who's kept carefully quiet throughout the entire gathering,
appears to be spending most of his time trying to keep up - especially
with the words spoken in the Mother's Tongue. A slight smile now and then
before fading, though as the question asked by Lyra isn't answered he
frowns a little with a glance up to Salem once more. He doesn't ask,
though, not right now. Too much going on to distract from.

Wildfire peers at Little Bear. ~If you are so honorable, then why did you
attempt to sell out Caern to your totem without consulting whoever was
alpha at the time? You did that without anyone's foreknowing as far as I
recall.~

Andrea says shortly, ~There is a ritual to it. But both Wendigo and Wyld
have said that they will serve, if Gaia calls them to it.~

Cycle-Breaker inclines her head to Andrea.

Chance says, ~Well, if not Rock, then Wyld! Wyld is what we all protect
anyway. Why not invite it here?~

Little Bear narrows his eyes at Wildfire, and his voice grows cold. "If
you want to accuse me of anything, you challenge me like a true Garou. I
do not answer to you."

Yi looks a little bit more defiant with the moon riding in her blood
tonight. "Then? Whatever spirit chooses to serve the Mother here and
support the Garou in our fight, then so be it. Those who do not agree to
follow, can go home." She neglects the 'and bloody fuck themselves' line.

"Guys... settle down. Now. Stop acting like children. We all need to take
a deep breath and remember that we are here to voice ideas, not complaints
about one another." Alicia says loudly, glancing to Little Bear and
Wildfire. "Please."

Quiet Wind moves over towards Little Bear, shifting down to match his form
as he does so. He puts a hand on the young man's shoulder and whispers
something to him.

Golden-Eyes sits, her expression still blank as she shifts back down into
lupus. She remains quiet and studying words rather than adding her own.

Calls-Spirits just...sighs at Chance, in a long-suffering manner. Raggies.

Lyra looks up, slightly startled at Yi's touch, but smiles gratefully at
the Asian. Her glance flickers back to the heated arguments between Garou,
appearing relieved only when Alicia says something.

Jarred says, ~Bravo, Alicia. That was very Fostern of you.~

Duane takes an unconscious half step toward Little Bear as well, though he
swallows whatever he was going to say as the other Wendigo speaks.

Cycle-Breaker, amused, says to Chance, ~What about Grass?~ She
purposefully ignores the tension between Little Bear and Wildfire. She
stands, and shifts up into her birthform. "Does anyone else think a good
idea is to just do the Rite and see who pops up?"

Francisco steps forward to catch the attention of the more heated
arguments. "Let the challenges wait for when the discussion--the
DISCUSSION--is over," he says, Philodox unable to stand by while people
fight.

Yi gives Cycle-Breaker a look, but it is one that seems to say 'finally.'

Alicia isn't sure if that remark from Jarred was an actual compliment or
sarcasm. Instead of trying to figure it out, she shrugs her shoulders,
chin lifting up a tad.

John looks up wearily to Andrea. "If you wished to hear opinions, you've
heard them. Vote, let it influence an Alpha's decision... whatever. We
haven't heard much from the more even-tempered half-moons tonight, and
what has been said has not been given as much weight. Call the compromise,
and see if the Wyld or Wendigo turn up, but either way, the Hidden Walk is
the Hidden Walk. Those who came here did so regardless of what the Totem
was. There is strength in solidarity. We will maintain it, for our
honour." Taking a breath, John rises in stature, growling, ~The totem will
be called. And any who refuse to serve under it can consider themselves
/challenged/ by me.~

Jarred rolls his eyes at that.

Something that sounds suspiciously like "Oh, bloody honor," might be heard
somewhere around Lyra.

Touch Deer steps back, done whispering with Leonard. He holds up one hand
in a gesture indicating the fellow Wendigo to himself, almost shrugging.

Salem mutters something quiet and irritable-sounding under his breath in
Serbian. And then he shoots a sharp, disapproving look in Lyra's
direction.

Andrea turns away from Jarred again, when he doesn't answer. ~It's not the
best idea,~ she answers Cycle-Breaker. ~To give you an example, one night
Joseph was performing a Summoning. He called for the Hunter of the Night.
Bat--a Wyrm totem--came and attacked us.~ She shakes her head. ~I would
like to call for a single name. But calling for whatever will come is
better than calling for a single name with a divided heart.~ Toward the
long-ago question about Bear, she says, ~Bear's dishonor comes from the
days of the War of Rage, and it is a long, sad history that I will not
tell tonight. But the dishonor lingers, and will among any Garou in the
world, even those that will overlook it as they might.~

Wildfire snarls over to the Wendigo. ~You answer to no one even to the
point of your own demise.~ To the rest, ~There is no more discussion. Most
every tribe has put there's forward as well as Bear. And when the Rite is
performed, we may just get Richard Simmons as a totem anyway. I am done
here.~ He turns and leaves.

Little Bear snorts. "That's what I thought." He turns away dismissively
from Wildfire as he leaves, looking back to Andrea.

Chance says, ~Richard Simmons! Richard Simmons!~

Touch Deer tracks Wildfire's exit with guarded, neutral gaze.

Yi, foreign as she is, knows who Richard Simmons is. And gives Wildfire a
short snort of distaste at the very idea of the man. Half man. And to
Chance, the -Gnawer- rolls her mental eyes.

Little Bear looks at Chance, then glances at Duane questioningly.

Wildfire stops dead.

Alicia groans and glances to Chance, then sighs softly as her eyes fall
upon Wildfire. "Ah... shit... Little Bear, I'd run...real fast."

Calls-Spirits groans quietly and clamps a crinos paw around Chance's
muzzle. ~Please, I can only take so much embarrassment,~ he says very
quietly.

Duane snorts, eyes narrowing toward Chance. "Little fuckwad's makin' this
stupider, man," he mutters. He looks toward Little Bear, then sketches a
nod.

Lyra's returning irritability washes away as -somebody- answers her
question about Bear, however vaguely. At the mention of Richard Simmons,
she can't help but giggle, then quickly covers it up with a serious
expression. Her gaze lands on Salem briefly, and she's truly startled by
how disapproving the Walker's look is.

Little Bear arches an eyebrow to Alicia.

Alicia tilts her head, glancing to Wildfire, then back to LB. "He doesn't
look real happy." She notes, wisely.

Chance emits a muffled woof of indignation at Calls-Spirits. But his tail
wags once.

John takes a breath. He looks up to Andrea and calls, ~My vote is for
Pegasus, should Stag be deemed inappropriate.~ Turning, he starts to
leave, muttering to his packmates, "And so it goes..."

Little Bear shrugs. He looks back to Andrea, folding his arms.

Helen watches Chance, snickering.

Salem ignores the yammering Fang Ragabash, the embarrassed Fang Theurge,
the insulted Get and the strong-minded Wendigo. His eye remains fixed on
Lyra, and it's clear from his expression that he's planning to have words
with her... later.

Wildfire calls out, loudly so all may hear, in a voice most official.
~Andrea, by your word only will I refrain from Placing Little-Bear's
precious heart upon the center stone for his own totem to feast.~

"..Richard Simmons?" Quentin barely breathes the name in an incredulous
tone, glancing between those speaking of it as though he wasn't sure if
anyone present was being serious anymore.. but even with his train of
thought de-railed thusly, the tension that's beginning to grow doesn't
escape him. Thusly he steps a half-step closer back into Salem's shadow,
shaking his head slowly from side to side.

"Real pissed." Alicia notes, moving closer to her pack as she sighs
loudly. "Dir'Dia."

Little Bear narrows his eyes. "You'll try."

Chance laughs aloud. ~Well now. A pissing contest after all. And here I
was hoping for something more Machiavellian.~

Duane mutters something about challenges as he watches Wildfire, but
otherwise simply crosses his arms over his chest.

Touch Deer looks to Little Bear, expression definitely sour, proundly
displeased. "Hold your tongue for Gaia's sake."

Francisco growls at both combatants. "Enough. This is not why we won back
the sept."

Yi glances at Little Bear, then Wildfire, then back to Little Bear again.
"Riiiight," she draws out quietly to herself. The Gnawer ragabash gives
Lyra's shoulder another squeeze, and when she turns around the no-moon
whispers softly to her.

Calls-Spirits gently lets go of Chance with a muttered thanks for the
other Fang's silence. He watches the exchance between Owen and Leonard,
but for some reason doesn't seem especially worried.

Layne just /laughs/. Not much more to it than that.

Andrea gives John a curious look. ~It seems clear the sept is still
divided in its heart,~ she answers the Glass Walker. A dispassionate gaze
flickers back toward Jarred. ~And since I do not believe the wishes of
just my heart dictate a decision, I will place an open call.~ Sharp teeth
flash in a sudden grin. ~I would have called to Wyld, in any case.~
Wildfire's voice takes away her sudden humor though, and she sighs as it
leaks from her. ~A challenge to the death seems very unwise right now,~
she points out, once again mild. ~Leonard was not outside his rights to
promise that he would try his best. He would have been to promise the
certainty, but if you've listened tonight, even I would not promise any
certainty. If the two you still hold grudge later, seek out Nightflash to
oversee the pair of you.~

Jarred simply nods to Andrea, accepting her judgement.

Lyra breaks away from the worrisome thing that is Salem's glare and
listens to Yi carefully, and after a moment, nods. She gazes out at those
assembled once more, seemingly content to watch and no longer talk,
although which influenced her more, Salem or Yi, is undeterminable.

John turns to look at Andrea - over his shoulder - as she addresses him.
He smiles briefly, inclining his head in a nod, and calls back, ~And so it
will always be. The curse of our people. Too much pride.~ He turns again,
to leave - in glabro, with his hands sinking into trenchcoat pockets.

Wildfire turns to face Andrea. ~I seek no grudge, nor will I deny
anothers.~ He gives Quiet-Wind a nod of respect. Little-Bear can stare at
his ass as he makes his way back out to patrol this beloved place.

Little Bear resists the siren song of Get ass as he pointedly ignores the
Get and focuses on Andrea. He nods once in appreciation of her words.

Rides-Fire, shaking his fur in dissatisfaction, heads after Wildfire's
furry ass.

Salem turns his head to watch the Walker Elder depart. Then his gaze goes
skyward. He takes a deep breath, and then lets it out.

Chance chuffs, ~So if it's an open call, can you at least make an
invitation to Rock, Alpha? I couldn't hurt, could it?~

Quentin tips his head back towards Salem, asking him in quiet and rueful
tones, "Is it always like this?"

Duane growls, loudly, "Somebody shut that dude /up/," as he glares at
Chance.

Helen turns her back on the gathering, heading out of the caern.

Alicia huffs and glances to Quentin. "Welcome to the Sept, lil brother."
She says with a murmur, punching him in the shoulder lightly.

Andrea's lips quirk. ~If Earth itself would wake to watch this place,~ she
says. ~We might find ourselves better guarded than you think your joke
says.~ Toward Lyra, she comments, ~If you don't find a galliard to tell
you Bear's story, you may seek me another day.~

Salem inhales and exhales another breath, then glances down at Quentin.
"Sometimes," he notes dryly, unsmiling, "it's less congenial."

Calls-Spirits opens his mouth to scold Chance, starting to get really
irritated, but shuts it again as Andrea answers and simply hunkers down.
Displeasure radiates from his posture.

Lyra starts at being addressed by Andrea, but then smiles brightly and
nods her thanks to the Gaian, before stepping a little closer to Yi in
reflexive shyness.

Yi in turn, bows her head once at Andrea for her generosity towards the
philocub.

Andrea shrinks back to human form, then says, "My thanks to everyone that
spoke their heart.~

Quentin's lips twitch into a wan smile, looking back over towards Alicia
at the light punch to his shoulder.. and then back to Salem, before he
sighs a bit to himself and turns to watch the gathering as it slowly
shrinks one by one. "Wonderful.."

Chance nuzzles the displeased Fang Theurge, growling in low, good-natured
tones, ~Don't get so serious, you. You've been a cliath less time than a
Gnawer changes underwear. You don't have the clout to tell me how to be a
Ragabash. I have to keep this light, or we'll all kill each other. And how
much fun would /that/ be?~

Layne pulls a hand from a pocket to brace one arm across her ribs, fingers
curling around the other. Facing Andrea, the halfmoon asks, "When will we
call?"

Touch Deer leans back a little, arms crossing, eyes on Andrea.

Jarred nods to the Alpha again, and turns to leave. He seems in remarkably
good spirits, despite the evening's unpleasantries (or perhaps because of
them).

Yi gives the Fang raggie another glance, before touching shoulder with
Lyra again and saying quietly, "We best be going back."

Andrea walks back toward Touch Deer. "If the caern has been cleansed
enough, at the full moon," she answers. "People have been working very
hard, and the Wyld worms that Robert brought have done much, but it takes
time. I should know by the time the moon is half whether we can chance the
call."

Calls-Spirits grumps at Chance, ~And /you/ should temper your muzzle with
a little gravity, as is appropriate for such discussions.~ He stands and
turns to head out. ~I need to talk to you, but it can wait until tomorrow.
I'm going to go patrol.~ His displeasure has only lessened /slightly/.

Lyra smiles at Yi, a bit tiredly. "Yes, but I think I learned a lot
today," the ever-spritelike cub tells her. She pauses, then adds, "But I
think I upset some people." Worried look. "Should I not have spoken?"

Touch Deer looks a little tired as Andrea joins him. He drops to lupus and
takes her side dutifullly.

Chance gets up and immediately follows the other Fang. Oh no you don't.

Francisco makes his way out, silent but with an uncharacteristic scowl.

Salem casts a glance over the gathering, then looks toward Francisco and
Alicia. "I'm heading back." His voice has a mildly sour note to it.
"Quentin?"

Yi shakes her head, not the least bit tired. "You said your piece, and
that was that. You asked a question, and you will get an answer."

Little Bear shakes his head, then shrugs, looking to Duane and Touch Deer.

Layne nods at the answer. She surveys those that remain for a brief
moment, before turning to leave.

Lyra nods, then heads out.

Yi gives the Wendigo and Uktena group a long gaze over her shoulder, but
then shuffles off with Lyra beside her to go on the long trek back
citywards.

Woman becomes wolf, as the Fianna Philodox lopes away from the caern.
Layne goes northwest, into the swirling wind.

"Right behind you," Quentin says with a slight shake of his head, risking
a brief wave over in Lyra's direction before turning as well to follow
Salem where he might lead.. his expression mostly thoughtful, ever so
slightly troubled at the same time.

Salem leads the Glass Walker cub out of the caern and back toward the
city.