"A Ragabash can backtrack to their origin."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 09:48 Pacific Time on Tue Mar 7 2017.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 36 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.00 and falling, and the relative humidity is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 36 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).

Dakota says "Sandra can be filling Thane in as people get Nick."

Bawn: The Sept Compound(#2075RAM)

Sweeping branches of evergreen pines form a sort of natural roof overshadowing most of this clearing. In the center is a fire pit with several old logs polished from use for seats. A separate stack of firewood is discreetly piled up at the base of an old spruce, protected from the damp by a tarp. At the edge of the clearing and extending back a bit into the woods resides a rough wooden structure with a slate tile roof. A stone slab rests off to one side of the clearing in a place of some prominence. Nestled in among the pines are a few hardy perennials--red alder, quaking aspen, and a big leaf maple or two--that, come spring, will create a profusion of color in the clearing.

Brings-the-Pack arrives at the Sept Compound, following after Yael, in what would likely be record time. It's probably a very safe bet to assume the Strider did some Striding to get to the mage's territory in record time and the warper-cougar slowed her down on the return trip.

This is a North American cougar (Puma concolor couguar), which is not an uncommon animal in Washington State, although they are rarely seen by humans. Typical of the species, it has a slender, muscled body with a round head and pointed ears. Like most cougars, this particular specimen is substantially longer, taller, and heavier than the average wolf. He likely tips the scales at about 160lbs and measures nearly 8' from nose to tail: Much of that is certainly tail. This cougar's pelt is slightly more reddish-orange than usual, although not unusually so. Lithe, powerful, sinuous musculature is readily visible beneath the cat's short fur, giving some indication as to the power and speed available to this apex predator should it choose to use it. The black "mustache" marking around his nose and mouth is more pronounced than usual, giving the feline's already-handsome face an even more suave--almost debonair--appearance.

Gathers-Strength gives a slight snort and a overall full-body shake as she steps into the clearing, before returning smoothly to her birth form. "I found the mage-cat," she says, moving over towards the firepit and pulling her headscarf a little closer against the cold.

Yael stands around 5'7", with a certain measure of grace to an otherwise unremarkable appearance. Golden-tanned skin is framed by a few wisps of brown hair peeking out from underneath a slightly lighter infinity scarf draped to cover her hair and the top of her shoulders. Her eyes are perhaps the only remarkable feature, somewhere between blue and grey. Her clothing is practical, loose, and modest, three quarter length sleeved shirt and loose khaki pants that have started to fray. Her shoes are similarly practical and worn-in desert boots.

Sandra, for her part, has reverted back to her homid form by now. The dog is chained to a tree, away from the compound itself, for the time being, the Shadow Lord seated at the perimeter of how far the short chain is allowed to reach, watching the captive carefully. Those in forms to sense it will note a strong, distinctly human scent coming off of her; the mark of a Gift. Thane, and whomever else has arrived, have been informed of the dog's-- predicament. The thing is most definitely tainted, though it's difficult to say (for now) what the nature of that taint is.

Standing at 6', possessing a sturdy frame and a no-nonsense stare, this woman (visibly in her mid-to-late-30's) has a hardened edge to her that comes through in everything from her gait to her posture. Though not what one would call exceptionally attractive, she's easy on the eyes, her angular facial features defined and distinguished. Her hair, cropped short and parted to one side, is light blonde, the style sensible and easy to manage, the shade offering complement to blue eyes.

Her attire can be described in much the same way: sensible. A pair of charcoal khakis, a buttoned down dress shirt, and a pair of black, conservative heels. Her overall build is deceptively slender, visible, compact, and well-defined musculature blending pleasantly (but not altogether seamlessly) with feminine curvature. Indeed, there are only nods to femininity here and there, little touches such as makeup, but it's minimal: a hint of eyeliner, perhaps some lipstick, and not much else.

(OOC counts-for-looks-only Note: Pure Breed 3, Get of Fenris)

Ruin, in homid form now, stands and waits like that's what she was born to do -- not at attention, but alert and observant. Despite being forewarned (to some degree), she frowns at the sight of the cougar, looking at the cat with the kind of disapproval usually reserved for a discarded latte left on a bookshelf.

She's tall, somewhere around the six foot mark, long-limbed, college-aged. She has a medium build that's moderately feminine, facial features that are nothing remarkable, light brown skin that's largely free of acne or other blemishes, dark brown eyes that are usually hidden behind sunglasses, and long, thick black hair that falls well past her shoulders and displays no special styling whatsoever.

She's dressed all in black, from plain t-shirt to worn workpants with frayed knees and cuffs, from off-brand canvas sneakers to knee-length trenchcoat.

Thane is present in the compound, looking a bit short of sleep but that's not particularly new. He's keeping himself angled to the location of the dog is never out of the corner of his remaining eye. The fire is going to ward off the cold light rain that wanders through in bands and he's got a simple black nylon coat on to serve a similar purpose. His arms are crossed over his chest as he waits and the arrival of their awaited company earns a nod of acknowledgement from the Alpha.

Thane isn't a man who's appearance stands out much. He's caucasian of skin tone with a faint swarthiness should he stay out in the sun long enough to catch a tan. His bones are pronounced, giving him the appearance of leanness despite having a solid, even musculature that speaks of someone who's gained his athleticism through rounded activity versus focused weight training. His hair is a tawny brown in most lights and usually kept in a short style. Grey is flecked throughout and implies he's getting later in middle age. Often, there's a good day's growth of beard on his face which seems to hide small nicks and old scars. His eyes are a mid-tone blue, often held under pensive brows.

There is a look to him, the weight of something undefined. It's like looking into the eyes of a man who has seen terrible things and was never quite was the same after. It's even more haunting considering his blind right eye is couched in scars like an attack from a bear.

Usually, he's casually dressed but cleans up when the need calls. He's never seen among the normal public in anything but long sleeves regardless of the weather, underneath showing massive scarring on on his forearms. They don't seem to restrict movement, but the oddly darkened scars are numerous like lightning bolts across his skin. Another deep slice runs at the upper portion of his abdomen.

Brings-the-Pack is actually a little winded from the effort expended in keeping up with the Strider. He almost certainly slowed the seasoned Strider down. The dog, meanwhile, continues sporadically testing the strength of the chain that restricts his movement. When he does test the chain's stength, it's with hackles raised and a snarl of Kill! There's definite, definite bloodlust going on. The appearance of the Strider and the cougar prompts one of these lunges. Kill! *yoink!* The chain holds fast, but the mage-cat still starts at the dog's pointed aggression. The cougar hazards a guess, asiding to Yael, "This is the dog you mentioned was Wyrm-tainted?"

There's a returned nod to Thane, and then Yael crouches by the fire, at least not visibly fazed by the behaviour or reaction of the dog. Or perhaps simply more interested in getting warm. "And something else that I couldn't quite put a name to as well," she adds. "Yes."

It's that 'something else' that has Sandra's expression taking a turn for the darker, her attention shifting rather abruptly to the Strider and the Mage when the topic is raised, though she keeps an eye on the dog and its flailings. Really, she's engaged what may as well be a staring contest with this thing for some time now (at those times it looks at her), as if, like in the forest, she's still waiting for the opportunity to rip its throat out. Probably is! Either way, she's unnaturally quiet for the moment, though Yael's comment about 'something else' does get a questioning look.

Ruin stuffs her hands into her coat pockets and positions herself to where she can keep an eye on the so-called 'magecat' as well as the Something Else Dog.

Thane slants a look back to the lunging dog and curls up a corner of his lip. It's a largely idle threat, perhaps made in realization the dog isn't gonna care, but he expresses his annoyance anyway. "Well, let's figure out what it is so we can shut this mutt up and get it off our land. We don't need that racket calling anymore friends of it."

Brings-the-Pack keeps a good distance away from the dog, closer to the garou, but not too close to them. Crazed dog tied to a tree seems to rank higher as a danger than the garou, at the moment, for the mage-cat. He gazes pointedly at the dog, studying it, as his right forepaw makes a slow, low, sweeping gesture--first left and then right, then back and forth, as if sensing or attuning to things unseen. It's not something a normal cougar would do. The diagnosis comes within minutes. "There is definitely some kind of spiritual tainting, although I'm not sure of the particular cause, and I don't think I can unwork it. Whatever it is, it seems to resonate in the dog's spiritual, life, mental, and core essence." That doesn't sound particularly good. "I just can't put my finger on the root cause," says the cougar with no fingers to put on anything. "Although," he adds belatedly, "I do sense that the effect will dissipate over a period of time. Months, probably. Maybe a year." He points out the fairly obvious, "It's definitely aggressive, and will continue to be so while under this influence." That seems to be his final diagnosis.

Yael watches Brings-the-Pack out of the corner of her eye, and when he finishes, she mutters what sounds like cursing by the tone of voice, Arabic or at least similar. Whatever she says it isn't polite, but also doesn't seem to be particularly aimed at the cougar, who gets a somewhat gracious nod. A moment of thought later, and she asks a question. "Underneath all of that, is it still a dog? Or is it its own creature by how twisted it has gotten to?"

Sandra's expression darkens considerably more, at this. Her focus is on Brings-the-Pack, but there's a definite sense that the hostility in her expression doesn't have anything to do with him specifically. Still, there's a-- quality in her voice that may speak as a warning to the others that Something's Afoot when she asks: "Is it a form of possession?" A pause. "Or would a Rite of Cleansing be enough to 'drain' the energy that's influencing it without causing too much harm?" Then, more reasonably: "We still don't know how it got this way, and, as it stands, it's our only living witness to whatever it was that took hold of its pack."

"They weren't stealthy," Ruin says, in a not-quite-monotone. "A Ragabash can backtrack to their origin."

"Has anyone looked at the dog in the Umbra?" Thane asks as he looks to the other Garou present with his brows raised faintly. "To see if something is influencing it there? Certainly a Rite of Cleansing is prudent. If it doesn't cure it, perhaps the ritual may at least lessen the impact of whatever this is." To Ruin he looks and gives a single nod of his head. "And certainly easier and more sensible than trying to interrogate a dog."

Brings-the-Pack admits, "My expertise is somewhat limited when it comes to Spirit-related magicks, and I'm uncertain as to how effective your Rite of Cleansing might be in this instance. It might be worth a try, though. It is still definitely a dog. Fundamentally, at least. Physically. It has been altered. But not physically so. But there is still something off about it. Unnatural." He tenatively offers, "I might be able to determine more if I were to study it for a longer period of time, but that could ultimately prove to be fruitless."

Yael shifts on her feet a moment, and looks at the fire, pulling a stone with a hole in it from her pocket to fidget with. "I never had a chance to learn the rite of Cleansing," she says, shaking her head. "At least not any version of it that I could use." A beat passes, and she falls silent.

There's a bit of a look cut towards Thane, though Sandra knows better than to keep it leveled on him, gaze just as quickly shifting back to the dog itself. "All due respect," she says simply, "if there's information to be gathered ahead of time, it's worth gathering. As fair warning to any scouts sent to look into the matter, if nothing else." Her gaze shifts to Brings-the-Pack, then, and that tension starts to spike again. Just a touch. Something about what he says seems to ease whatever that 'warning' was, however, and her gaze shifts to Yael. "My education's a bit lacking in that regard, as well, admittedly," she says. "I've participated in the Rite, but never lead one." A beat. "If there's someone we can summon here to perform it, it seems to me it'd be worth trying."

"At the end of the day it's still a dog, remember." Thane remarks. "Even if it's rendered back to sanity, we can't expect it to give us any detailed recounting of what happened to it. One of our senior Theurges should be able to attend to the ritual. In the meantime, with the weather, we should see some Garou to follow the trail as far as they can while it's still fresh before we have to resort to spiritual means."

Brings-the-Pack stays silent, continuing to study the dog contemplatively.

Yael lifts her gaze from the fire. "I can also track it, and potentially much more quickly," she says, dangling the stone for a moment before she puts it back in her pocket. "First thing first though," and she nods towards the dog, and lifts her shoulders in another shrug.

Sandra's brow arches subtly. "Thankfully, I wasn't pinning my hopes on the canine equivalent of War and Peace," she replies to Thane dryly. Past that, she's said what she's going to say on the matter, it seems.

Ruin offers no further words of wisdom, herself.

A howl is sent out summoning someone who knows the Cleansing ritual and the sept's Rite Mistress is the one who answers with her messenger bag of supplies in tow. Dakota's look to the dog, while cautious, is also one of pity. She listens with patience as she's filled in on the basics and she then moves towards the dog. Once she's gotten a handle on the range of it's chain, she takes out a bag of fine crystalline white sand and meticulously traces an unbroken circle just out of the dog's reach, invoking the Weaver's binding powers to halt the spread of the taint. The dog howls in fury and lunges at the ritualist. A smoldering stick bound with herbs like sage is burned, copying the circle around the dog in one of smoke and flame, calling upon the Balancer Wyrm's strength to purge the spirit. The dog writhes at the end of its chain, virulent coughs bringing up vomit of blood and bile. Then water, cast onto the dog as she traces out the circle a third time, bidding the creation of the Wyld to wash the spirit clean as a newborn thought. The dog is left shaking and whimpering. At the rite's end, the Crinos-formed Child of Gaia howls to the skies, invoking Gaia and Luna to restore the dog's soul and its purpose.

Yael slips off into the woods as Dakota arrives and before the rite actually starts, a brief explanation given that she's going to go find out what she can.

Brings-the-Pack observes the ritual and ritualist as the Rite of Cleansing is performed. Dakota's success seems to impress the cat-mage. In fact, he essentially states as much once the ritual is completed. "That was quote impressive. The taint seems to have been purged completely."

Aware of her own output of rage, especially with the moon the way it is, Sandra is careful to approach the shaken animal, staying just outside the perimeter of its chain, but not so far that it wouldn't be able to approach and sniff. That scent is still apparent on her, as she clicks her tongue gently, subtly extending her hand though there's no real push to it. If it wants the comfort 'Master' can offer, it can come to her.

Dakota shoots the cat a grin, one that tries to be professional and polite but can't entirely hold back a bit of proud smugness. "Well, been perfecting that one for a long time. I think I finally settled on a pretty guaranteed process but sometimes you just get lucky, sometimes you don't. All the skill in the world and sometimes luck just isn't on your side. Anyway.." She gives a wave of her hand as she dismisses the starts of her lapse into chattiness. "Glad to give the pup a chance." She says with a look back to the dog - who no doubt is terribly confused, poor thing.

Thane, meanwhile, has been watching the dog through the whole process more than anything else. As the ritual passes and is reported a success, the Alpha then looks amongst the other Garou and Mage. "So now that that's done, Sandra? Want to give questions a try? That gift of your's plus Lupus form might do the trick."

The dog seems to be receptive to Sandra now that whatever influence had corrupted it earlier has been removed. It licks her hand when it's offered, completely submissive--absolutely nothing like the ferocious dog it'd been yesterday.

With the dog cleared of whatever it was that was corrupting it, Ruin can turn more of her attention to the cougar. Still keeping an eye on that one, she is.

Nodding to Thane, Sandra offers the dog a couple strokes over its head before taking a step back. The shift to lupus is made with some ease, and in this, too, she gives the dog's brain a moment to keep pace with the sudden change of appearance. Her smell hasn't altered any, at least, and her posture is relaxed when she approaches again, letting the whole sniff-test procedure go for a second round, away from the puddle of blood and vomit that is-- far more vile to a lupine nose than that of a human's. But, it could be worse.

Once the dog is at ease around her, she speaks, carefully resting her chin on its shoulders in a non-obnoxious stand-over that's equal parts comfort and a show of station. Safe now. Her tail wags in a lazy fashion behind her as if for emphasis. Your pack was sick. You were sick. Do you remember?

The dog rolls over submissively as Sandra shifts. It's a 'he' and not fixed. He responds to Sandra's inquiries, though he's about as intelligent as one might expect a regular dog to be. He responds: Very angry pack. You are the alpha now. I submit. Others are dead. No pack.

Brings-the-Pack doesn't seem oblivious to the eyeballing he's getting from Ruin, and now that the dog-related issue seems settled--at least as far as the mage-cougar appears to be concerned--he gets around to stating the obvious. "I don't believe we have met before. Are you new here, or am I simply unfamilar with your current form?" He belatedly adds, as if it might be a complete afterthought on his part. "Or scent?" He goes ahead with his own introduction. "I am Brings-the-Pack. A warper allied with this sept, and not a Pumonca," he adds, in case that might be a misconception.

Ruin grimaces and answers Brings with obvious dislike and reluctance. "Brings-Ruin-to-the-Wyrm. Metis Ahroun of the Shadow Lords. Cliath."

Sandra is nothing if not patient with this, giving some suggestion that this isn't the first inquiry she's made like this. She scent checks him, as is appropriate (and expected), and keeps her stance over him relaxed, non-threatening. Where did you come from? What made them angry? She affords a glance to Ruin and Bringe-the-Pack over her shoulder, but, otherwise, her attention is largely on the dog, eyes scanning the animal over for any scarring she may have missed before, especially now that he's docile. Hurting? Fighting?

The dog doesn't have any notable scars. Not yet, at least. A few from probably when playing got a little too rough, and this is clearly not an alpha dog. It's definitely a younger dog, mature but not fully grown, and approaching the age where it might be acquired/used for dog fighting. Maybe 10-14 months old. The dog answers as best as it is able to: Master told us. Be angry. Kill. Go that way. So we do. Try to do. Did not do well. Many dead. Not angry now. I submit. You alpha.

Brings-the-Pack replies to Ruin, "An ahroun? Good. The sept could use more fighters for its defense. Are you planning to stay? Or just passing through?" He seems to have picked up on Ruin's obvious dislike, so he keeps his distance.

Ruin answers the mage with a shrug. "That will be for the alpha to decide."

Sandra's head cocks slightly. 'That way.' She looks around herself as if to emphasize. To us? Did Master name your prey?

The dog replies to Sandra with some confusion, perhaps pushing the borders of its intellectual capabilities: Into the woods. Towards the mountains. Kill. Just kill.

Brings-the-Pack seems to get the impression his presence might not be entirely welcomed by Ruin, not useful in terms of dealing with the dog. He excuses himself in what is hopefully a polite manner. "I hope the Alpha welcomes you, should you wish to stay," he replies to Ruin. Then, more generally, he adds, "My apologies for not being more useful. I should return to my territory and work. Farewell." He turns to leave unless someone opts to impede his exit.

Sandra seems to realize this, at least, tilting her head down to nose at the dog in a show of approval, amending the move with an almost-- playful? --nah, that couldn't be it-- foreleg stab. Safe here now. Not angry anymore. Will find you a home, a pack.

The dog thumps his tail at the news, giving a sideways glance at the departing cougar, but not giving chase or showing aggression, likely having picked up on the lack of overt aggression by others and, also likely, being unfamiliar with what a cougar is and it being substantially bigger than the now-submissive dog. Not angry now. No. Pack good. Home good. Yes. You alpha. You lead. You show. I follow. I obey. Good dog.

Ruin does nothing to keep the mage from leaving (or to hurry him along, for that matter). She directs her suspicious frown at his back.

(The group breaks up, with Sandra taking the dog to Edgewood to care for it and wait for Yael and her news.)