"A concept easily enough stated, but more difficult in practice."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 21:27 Pacific Time on Tue May 20 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (68% full).

Umbra: Center of the Caern

A subtly spine-vibrating thrum of power issues once again from the once-dead caern, pricking hairs and fur. Slowly but surely, the rejuvinating actions of the Garou have slowly been transforming the recently spiritually dead caern back into something befitting a caern. The caern is once again alive with a variety of spirits, though spirits of war seem a rarity now, and Wendigo spirits are never seen. The caern, visually, falls just short of the wildest rural utopia imaginable. Only hints of the previous pollution remain--slightly less than green grass, young sapling trees where there ought to be mighty oaks and pines--and these are things that, with time and care, should eventually replace what was lost.

The air crackles with tingles of spiritual potency, though it's obvious to Garou who'd witnessed the caern earlier that the caern just isn't quite as powerful and potent as it was before the BSD invasion.

Salem pushes his way through the Gauntlet with effort and, once past it, gives himself a vigorous shake and snaps at the Umbral air in an irritable way.

Following after the Glass Walker, Alicia pops into the Umbra, striding after him.

Tobin is sitting in the center of the caern, happily playing with a couple of lunes who are enthusiastically swirling about his arms and shoulders. The young Silver Fang is actually laughing now and then at the antics of the lunes, and seems quite uncharacteristically cheerful. When the two members of Synthesis arrive, however, he quickly composes himself into a much more somber manner and shoos the lunes away. He sketches a bow to each of them. "Elder, Alicia," he says formally to them each.

Salem remains in wolf form, head and tail raised high, his body language all alpha-wolf. Feeling better, Silver Fang?

Alicia wiggles her fingers towards Tobin for a moment, before crossing her arms upon her chest. She shifts the weight to one hip, staring at him with a smirk tugging upon her lips. Hah, caught you playing.

Tobin bows noticeably lower to Salem, holding the pose for several moments to show proper submission. "Worlds better, Elder," he says when he straightens. "Even when my debt to you is paid, you shall ever have my gratitude." Another short bow and he turns slightly to face Alicia, a smirk playing about his own mouth. "Shall we begin?" he asks simply.

Salem makes a remark about discussing further payment, but clearly seems willing to let the Theurge handle the lesson first. He snaps idly at a passing lune, then lies down, sphinxlike, one forepaw curled inward.

"Sure, would love to." Alicia says, sinking down to her knees before him, getting herself comfy. Her eyes turn upwards towards him, waiting patiently for instruction.

Tobin sits as well, sinking smoothly down so he's sitting cross-legged amongst the green grass of the Umbral caern. "First, Alicia, tell me what you know of spirits. Tell me, hmm, what /is/ a spirit? How do you define that concept?" He waits with a neutral expression for the Galliard's answer.

"Spirits are living forces of power, those that are not bound by flesh. They make up the world of the Umbra in many shapes and forms, alive in their own way. There take many forms of such creatures, machines, just about everything; for its why we have the Triat to group them in different categories and genre' and help us recognize them from each other." Alicia says, pulling out her teachings with Adam and Dante, not having had time to really explain this concept in quite some time. In fact, she feels quite rusty.

Tobin nods minutely, expression revealing little but somehow he seems satisfied by the explanation. "Very good," he says evenly. "However, spirits represent a paradox of sorts. They are the essence of whatever animal, object, or even concept, that they represent. They are purely of that thing and can be quite narrow in their outlook because of that. However, the Umbra is a place of constant change, of flux. To them, the material world is nearly frozen in shape, constraining and limiting. In order to learn the Speech, you must learn to embrace that way of thinking. Narrow, yet changing. Do you understand?"

The Glass Walker listens intently, ears perked forward.

Nodding her head and hanging on every word, Alicia takes it all in, soaking it up like a sponge. "I understand, that makes sense." She says.

A smile twitches at Tobin's lips. "A concept easily enough stated, but more difficult in practice." He looks away at the spirits flitting all around them, flying through the air or trundling along the ground or leaping amongst the sapplings. "The spirits speak to each other even now. Can you hear them? They call each other's names, sing their joys and sorrows all around us." After a moment more of watching the spirits and listening to what sounds like senseless chatter or animal cries, the Fang looks back at Alicia. "To say we speak the language of the spirits is a fallacy. It is not something that we can ever learn, until we become spirits ourselves, that is," he adds with another tugging grin.

Perking her attention to her surroundings, Alicia glances around to the spirits, listening to them yammer on without any sense of understanding. Its like listening to a foreign language for the first time, really fast. "I hear them.. I just do not know what they are saying." She says softly, wettening her lips with a slow brush of her tongue.

Salem's ears twitch. He glances upward, then snaps at another lune that strays too teasingly close.

Tobin nods at Alicia, apparently having expected her response. "There is magic in us, of course. We are creatures half of spirit, half of flesh and bone. We were created directly by the hand of Gaia, and that is a powerful heritage. Our magic is not the magic of the Warpers, but it is powerful nonetheless and we may learn to shape it with our will. As I said, we can never learn to speak the language of the spirits, but we may use our magic to understand them and speak with them in turn. We hear their Speech, and the magic tells us what they say. We speak, and the magic turns our words into the Speech." He pauses and regards Alicia measuringly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, its sort of like.. a magical voice translator. You know, the kind on Star Trek." Alicia says with a hint of a smile. "Tho' you may speak in English, it comes out in the words of spirits so that they understand, right?" She asks, thinking that she is picking up on it. That much makes sense and sounds familiar to what Andrea has told her in the past.

Tobin nods again, and again looks satisfied but reserved. "This teaching will be difficult, as I told you before. To those born of the knife moon, this Gift is intuitive. Normally, one learns a Gift from a spirit, and the spirit awakens the magic inside you." He pauses for a measured moment before continuing. "But you would be searching long and far afield for a spirit willing to teach a Galliard that Gift. Thusly, here we are."

Salem speaks up, remarking that Walks-Thin-Ice was in the Umbra for many years before he was able to learn this gift.

Alicia bobs her head slightly in respect. "I've done a lot of teaching and training with the Garou here, mostly within the Umbra when it comes to the range of gifts and rites that I possess. I am no stranger to the process, Yuf." She says with confidence in her voice as her chin lifts.

Tobin nods at Salem's footnote. "Indeed, it is a testament to the Icewalker's will and connection to the Weaver that he did not fade into spirit entirely, so long was he in the Shadow." Another measuring glance is turned on Alicia. "We shall see," is all he says before looking away, up into the umbral sky. He gives three short, sharp whistles, then waits.

Leaning back some, hands on her knees, Alicia trains her eyes to the sky as you do yours, peering upwards into the darkness curiously, wondering what you may have just called.

A moment passes, and another, and another. Then a spot grows against the nearly full moon. It seems to be hovering, but quickly gets larger. Those observing then realize that it is a falcon in full stoop and it is plummeting at them at a truly alarming speed. The raptor's wings snap open at the last second and it swoops by just above their heads, circling twice before backwinging to a halt and perching on thin air a few feet over Tobin's shoulder.

Salem flattens his ears, sitting up abruptly with a brief flash of teeth. The wolf-form Glass Walker recovers his composure a moment later and settles down again, head cocked and eyeballing the avian spirit.

Alicia leans back a bit, but otherwise, doesn't flinch or seem too surprised. It made sense afterall. Cantering her head one way, she stares evenly towards the pair, waiting.

Tobin looks up at the falcon, who, it turns out, is actually a very large merlin. "I have asked Ocerith to help," he states simply. "Let us begin."

Salem huffs. Your patron? Good choice. The Walker falls silent then.

Alicia bobs her head forward some. "He's beautiful." She says softly in admiration.

Ocerith pins Alicia with her flat, black raptor eyes and gives her an even more openly measuring look than Tobin ever gave the Gaian. A moment or two of scrutiny and she opens her beak. Sounds issue forth, and they sound like those a falcon might make. High chirps and whistles. Just a few calls and the totem of Crescent Wing falls silent and goes back to watching Alicia.

Staring back at the Falcon, Alicia listens to the clicks, knowing not to be fooled. Its spirit speech alright, but she wouldn't be able to tell a bird from a spirit either way. She leans back some, hands planted behind her as eyes fall evenly into the avian's, staring back. "Good evening, Ocerith."

Tobin and his totem exchange a look, then as one look back at Alicia. Ocerith speaks again, but this time it's clearly in the Mother's Tongue. ~The lesson has begun, Alicia-Guards-the-Flame. Listen to my words and strive to hear the Speech in them.~ Tobin fidgets a little but stays quiet. Ocerith again speaks to Alicia in the Speech and waits for the Galliard's reaction.

Shifting to the Crinos form, Guards-The-Flame rumbles slightly in her throat. Her ears perk forward in attentiveness, shifting her body weight forward so that her paws can lay flat against her knees as she sits upon them. She listens, as best one can, tuning everything out except for it.

The lesson continues for some hours. Tobin and his totem taking turns speaking to Alicia in the Speech. Ocerith's words all sound like bird calls, but Tobin's voice takes on an eerie, buzzing quality when he speaks with the magic of the Gift. His lips move in recognizeable ways, and it seems to those listening that they /should/ be able to understand him, but the meaning of what he says ultimately escapes the other two Garou. Towards the end of things, Alicia is at last able to discern a similiar sort of buzzing in Ocerith's speech. Like an undercurrent more felt than heard, much like the power of the caern around them. Just about the time Alicia starts hearing it, Ocerith departs suddenly, winging away into the night. Tobin bows his head, looking slightly weary. "This lesson is concluded. Meditate on what you have learned tonight, and meet me here again, three nights hence."

Nodding her head, the Gaian lets out a breath. ~It was clicking right there at the end, before your friend took off. I was recognizing it.~ Shifting herself back down to her human shape, she works out the kinks from her body. "Thank you Tobin, I'll be here."

Salem, seeing the lesson concluded, returns -- the Walker had gotten up to patrol around the perimeter of the caern some time ago, occasionally snapping at the lune that, like a too-playful raven, persists in diving down near his head.

Tobin simply nods in reply to Alicia, mouth clamped firmly shut after all that talking. He grins just a little when he sees Salem return and sees that the lune is still up to its old tricks.

Alicia pushes herself up to her feet and shifts her shoulder some, chuckling faintly at poor Salem. "C'mon yeh' big lug. Lets get back to the Scab where you won't be chased after."

I seem to be a magnet for these types, Salem notes with a growl that's only half-serious. He looks at Alicia. You go ahead. I have some things to talk to the Fang about.

"Alright. I'll see ya on the other side then." Ali' says, then gives herself a half bow towards the Fang in thanks for his lesson tonight. With a flip of her hair, she spins on heel an rips through the gauntlet.

Tobin gives Alicia a parting bow of farewell from where he's sitting, then looks to Salem, waiting curiously. He drives the weariness from his face and posture and focuses his attention on the Walker.

Salem shakes himself and shifts upward into human form. "You'll be needing more of that medication soon, I imagine," he says, sitting crosslegged next to the Fang. "Unfortunately..." A mildly apologetic note (one that doesn't lessen the steel underneath). "...The stuff does not come cheap."

Tobin nods solemnly, as though he expected this. He doesn't appear at all perturbed, however. "Indeed it does not, Elder, and you shall be compensated." A slight grin breaks the neutrality of his expression. "To make an understatement, I was not in my right mind when I first came to you. I am amazed I was able to think of the idea to take the medicine at all, and can only attribute my guidance to Gaia." He reaches one hand down and rests it on the ground in a brief moment of silent thanks before continuing. "Thus, I did not think that I would have resources beyond my own pockets. I am a relative rarity amongst Silver Fangs in that I have few material possessions. My tribesmates, however, are not, and are willing to pay you in cash," he says, finally getting to the point.

Salem utters a brief, light chuckle. "We're both rarities, then, since most of _my_ tribe are known for their monetary resources as well." His smile fades. "Simple compensation will do. There is, however, a minor favor that you can do for me... if you're still feeling grateful." He lifts an eyebrow.

"Ask," Tobin says succinctly, but his tone is warm and friendly.

Salem steeples his fingers. "My tribemate Leala, who _has_ significant resources, wishes to purchase property for a new safehouse for the Walkers. I understand that one of your people has contacts in the real estate sector and might be able to... make us a deal." One corner of his mouth quirks upward.

Tobin's eyes grow a little distant as thoughts flash behind them. He nods. "Wilbur has kin in real estate. I will let Wilbur know to contact him. Would you like Vic to contact you or Leala?"

"Contact Leala," Salem says. His eyes narrow. "Ideally, I'd like a place with a bit of land around it, or at least without a clear view from the street. And we'll be modifying it to add... extra security. But Leala will be handling the actual purchase."

Tobin nods again. "When we get back to somewhere that pencils work, give me her number and I will get it to Vic," he says, a little amusement in his eyes now. "I'm sure he'll be able to find something for you."

"I'm sure he will, too." The Walker cocks his head slightly. "And you? You have a challenge for eldership coming up, don't you?"

Tobin looks grim at the mention of his challenge. "I do, Elder, yes," he says darkly. "I may be young and lacking in experience in this life, but Valoran is /not/ the kind of leader that my tribe needs."

Salem makes an agreeing little 'mmn' noise and pushes to his feet. "That he isn't. It's a rare tribe that's led well by _any_ Ragabash, much less one as..." He pauses, clearly thinking for the proper word.

Tobin waves a hand in a say-no-more gesture, a sour look on his face as he, too, gets to his feet. He offers a hand to Salem, then. "Take my hand, and I will help ease your way across the Gauntlet," he says, slipping into his formal tone again.

Salem's mouth thins, but he accepts the offer graciously. "Thank you."