"You're not my equal. You're nowhere _near_ my equal."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 19:21 Pacific Time on Tue Jun 10 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (74% full).

Bawn: Western Forest

Tall Sitka spruce and sequoia crowd around and above you. Many of the trees are old, their branches twisted into impossible shapes, trunks broad and draped with lichen, mosses and creepers. Tendrils of moss hand down from them like green spiderwebs, snaring the unwary with cold, ghostly fingers. The patches of younger growth are dense and pale, needles tinged with silver. Matted undergrowth huddles sullenly in the occasional small clearings, clutching with thorns and burrs at the legs of those who would pass. Deer seldom venture here, but the forest is full of rustlings, and tiny glints from wary, watchful eyes.

The forest spreads out to the east, bounded on the west by Sunrise Road. From farther to the west, one can occasionally hear the distant sounds of the town of Kent's Crossing.

Having managed to get a Ride from Aubrey, Renee wanders the Western Bawn. Looking for one of her Tribe's cubs, who was sent up here for some socalizing.

A black-furred wolf emerges from the dusk-lit undergrowth, familiar scars covering one side of his face. Chuffing, Salem pads over toward the Bone Gnawer, head and tail lifted, his lupine body language casually -- even arrogantly -- dominant. He greets her amiably enough, though.

Renee turns to face the wolf, hands stuffed into her pockets and a scowl forming as she takes in the Walker's body language. "Hey."

It's inevitable, perhaps -- wolf form doesn't lend itself to subterfuge and subtlety, after all. And the Walker Elder's never been shy about his status over the Gnawer. He asks, pleasantly, if she's looking for someone or something in particular.

Renee shrugs, shifting most of her weight on to her right food. "Sepdet, if I can find her an' a cub. Need ta check up on him."

Salem cocks his head quizzically. Which cub?

"Karl," Renee answers easily enough. "You met him."

Renee scratches at her throat, then looks down at the other wolf. Meeting his eyes as she does so. "I have been keepin' tabs on some things and I think that we have somethin' of a problem."

Salem's posture straightens; the alpha-wolf body language isn't quite so casual now. He meets her stare directly and invites her to go on.

One corner of Renee's mouth twitches upward, showing the corner of a single eye-tooth. "Well, first off, do ya know Carter?"

Salem's hackles rise, but otherwise, he remains calm, his gaze still quite direct. I've heard of him, but not met him in person. Why?

Renee pulls her hands out of her pockets and cracks her knuckles. "Seems ta have latched onta the idea, of goin' leech huntin'. Think he wanta ta pickle one, so he can study it, or some shit. Seems ta know a fuckin' lot about us. Havin' him nabbed by one of the blood suckers, would be fuckin' bad."

Salem snorts. Having _anyone_ who knows about us taken by the vampires would be bad. You do know that the man is a reality-bender, yes?

"Oh, fuck yea," is the Gnawers respose, as she keeps up with her own direct gaze. "I think he was tryin' ta impress me once, by makin' a fuckin' kitten appear outta the air. Creeped the shit outta me. Guy is lucky I didn't plaster him at the time." Renee sighs. "Last I saw him, he was carryin' a buttload of garlic and wearin' a fuckin' cross, of all things."

Salem makes an irritable noise and a comment about fools rushing in. His hackles remain bristled, his legs stiff; Renee's continued stare-challenge is eroding away his pleasant demeanor and good temper. Fast. What did you say to him?

Renee shrugs. "Not ta do anythin' until talkin' with me. Was tryin' ta get a promise that I'd help." The Galliard snorts at that, making her opinion on the matter very clear. "Then, he starts replyin' ta what I was thinkin'. For fucks sake. Seems ta be able ta poke inside heads. Or skin the surface, at least."

Salem utters another low 'hrf' sound. He's a reality-changer. There's no predicting _what_ they can do, or can't do. Every one is different.

Renee's nose wrinkles up. "But yea, somethin' has ta be done about him. Oh, an' I had somethin' of a chat with yer pet."

Salem's eyes narrow. Pet?

Renee waves one hand. "The Leech under yer protection. Close 'nough ta a pet, far as I'm conserned."

Salem grunts and settles back on his haunches. That one. Yes. So. You spoke to him?

Renee smirks, as she finds something amusing. "Yea. Told him ta watch fer Carter. Mostly 'cause, the last thing we need is havin' him run ta one of use for protection from a fuckin' Mage."

Salem agrees. Not something we need. Good.

The Walker stretches, then gets up and smoothly and swiftly reverts to human form. He's dressed practically, black sweatpants and t-shirt, hair tied back. "Speaking of vampires, I assume that you want in on hunting one down?"

Renee tilts her chin upward, so she can continue to face the Walker. "Fuck yea. Workin' on my own leech hunt, ta tell ya the truth. Vamp from the warehouse got away. But, I got the bitch's journals. Fuckin' lot of info in those things. Mostly 'bout what she was doin', as she practiced makin' Formori."

Salem doesn't reply right away; instead, he simply stares back at her, mouth thinned. "Are you challenging me, Renee?" His voice is quiet, dangerous.

Renee slowly bares her flat human teeth, in a very canine reaction. "Depends on what ya mean by that. I know you can beat the crap outta me, but ya seem ta think I'm way bellow ya on the Totem pole. I told ya once, that I wouldn't put up with ya treatin' me like an' errand girl, or some wet nosed Cliath." The girl's eyes harden, Rage burning just bellow the surface. It is her moon, after all. "I am the fuckin' /Elder/ of my tribe, Salem. Its my job ta lead them an' ta look after them. I'm not gonna be fuckin' pushed around, by you or anyone else."

Salem's voice remains calm, though it's icy in tone, and his body is tight in that way he gets, when he's angry but controlling it. "For someone so in touch with her _beast_, you know very little about your _wolf_... or the fine points of being a Garou." He takes a step forward and jabs a finger at her chest. "You meet someone's eyes and _hold_ it, you're challenging them. You're effectively saying that you're better than them, and mean to prove it."

Renee looks down at the finger jabbing her in the chest, then back up at the Walker. The grin that splits her face, is positivly feral. "Fuck, I know 'bout my wolf far fuckin' better then ya might think. An' you know somethin' else." This time, she jabs Salem in the chest with her finger. "I'm gonna keep challengin' you, until one of three things happen. I beat ya, I end up dead, or ya stop treatin' me like a fuckin' newbie, or a fuckin' lackey."

What follows is brief and bloody, happening at superhuman speeds, faster than the eye can follow. Renee's jabbing finger is grabbed by the touchy Glass Walker, grabbed and _pulled_; the Gnawer finds herself stumbling off her feet, out of balance. She flashes upward into Crinos. He matches her almost instantly, and claws aimed at his face end up scoring across his chest. The rest is a blur of tooth and fang.

And then it's over. Both urrah are bloody, but the younger one is moreso, and Salem has his jaws locked around her throat and his weight pressed down on her also. The Glass Walker growls a gutteral, ~Yield.~

Sees-True's body goes limp, as she stops fighting back. Her Rage is spent and her body boarders on unconciousness. Small bubbles of blood form around her nose, as she focuses on just breathing.

Salem releases her throat but keeps her pinned, one bloody-clawed hand flat on her chest. His muzzle bends close to her ear. ~You are not my lackey, no,~ he rasps, the inhuman voice low and growly. ~But you _are_ my subordinate... Elder of the rats or not, you are my _inferior_. Understand that, _learn_ that, and get with the fucking program... or get the fuck out. And _never_ challenge me again. Clear?~

Sees-True's tongue runs over her bloody nose, before she speaks. ~There is a diffrence between Beta and Omega,~ is all she manages, before being forced to swallow.

Salem straightens up, black fur slick with blood, both his and hers. He bares his teeth and makes a curt, derisive sound. ~You're not my fucking Beta. That doesn't mean I consider you my Omega, either. Right now, far as I'm concerned, you're an annoying, uppity little bitch with delusions of grandeur.~ He bares his teeth and adds, with emphasis, ~I _keep having_ to give you this lesson. Are you stubborn or just stupid? I'll repeat. You're not my equal. You're nowhere _near_ my equal.~

Sees-True rolls onto her side and coughs, teeth stained red with blood. ~I've always been stubborn.~ A soft, rather weak snort follows that statement. ~And you say I'm the one with delusions...~

For that last remark, the pissy Glass Walker aims a kick at the Gnawer's side. ~Moreover, you don't know when to shut up.~

The two city Garou may become aware that a smallish, lanky white wolf is watching them. Calls-Spirits stands, downwind, near a large tree, staring at the two brawlers impassively. His ears are perked up curiously as he watches them. He waits to be noticed.

Renee yelps and rolls with the kick, curling into a ball on the blood soaked ground.

~Lesson one. When you submit, _submit_. This half-assed shit isn't worthy of a raw _cub_.~ Salem snorts again, then turns slightly as he notices Calls-Spirits. One golden eye fixes on the Fang, steadily. Clearly, Salem is in A Mood.

Sees-True remains curled up on the ground, rather lost in her own world of pain.

Calls-Spirits takes a few cautious steps forward when Salem notices him. His nosepad wrinkles as he tests the air thoroughly. He keeps sniffing until he's only a few paces away, at which point he sits back on his haunches and curls his tail around his legs. He gives a low chuff and a warble, signaling that all is clear, then looks between the two combatants. I am Guardian for this moon, he says, mostly for Salem's benefit. What happened here?

Ghosting forward from a spot a few paces downwind of Calls-Spirits, StarEyed pads up to a spot just to the other Fang's right flank. Ears perked and alert, she waits to see what the answer is.

Salem drops down to all fours and shrinks down into a wolf's shape. He glares distainfully at Renee, then pads over toward Tobin, limping slightly -- the Gnawer got a good bite-down on his left hand, and he favors that forepaw. Despite the fresh wounds, his head and tail and hackles are all raised alpha-wolf high. She challenged me, then became violent.

Calls-Spirits lowers his eyes and head at Salem's posture, showing submission but not losing his businesslike demeanor. He glances down at the Bone Gnawer, then back at Salem, looking curious. Challenged? Over what?

Salem walks his haunches under him and sits down. His answer is simple. Dominance.

StarEyed cocks her head slightly to one side and turns her attention to Renee thoughtfully, keeping the Gnawer in her sights and one ear cocked to hear everything said.

Ah, is Calls-Spirits' response to the Shado-- Glass Walker Elder's simple explanation. He looks Renee over again. Perhaps we should go to the caern, to see if anyone would be willing to give healing.

Salem glances over at the battered Gnawer, then agrees and pushes to his feet. I was heading there originally.

As Calls-Spirits is sugesting that they take the Gnawer's rather battered body to the Caern, Renee shrinks down into Glabro. Cautiously and carefully, she stands and holding a hand to her side, slinks off. Leaving a trail of blood droplets that any lupus nose will follow with ease, along with a few bloody handprints in the farmhouse. Tracking her into the infirmary, will be no challenge at all.

StarEyed whuffs softly and cants an ear in a gesture that could best be interpreted as a raised eyebrow, gaze following Renee. Someone should definitely follow her, if merely to clean up after her.

Salem bares his fangs in a brief, derisive expression.

Calls-Spirits chuffs, looking annoyed as Renee leaves. I will follow her, he declares. And clean up what I can. So saying, he trots off after the wounded Gnawer.