Cannot truly learn wolf without _being_ wolf.

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:04 Pacific Time on Wed Jan 14 2004.

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (50% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 42 degrees
      Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      northeast at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.03 and rising, 
      and the relative humidity is 43 percent. The dewpoint is 21 degrees 
      Fahrenheit (-6 degrees Celsius.)

Blue Mountains, Northern Extreme(#2521RAJ)

The tops of the mountain peaks are shrouded clouds, and snow dusts them until
      late in the spring. Though still thick in places, the treecover thins as 
      one climbs in elevation. Still, some few evergreens clump together in 
      isolated copses even near the rocky summits. Streams run through this 
      area in abundance, cutting deep gullies in the mountainside and rushing 
      down to feed the thick forest below.

To the east, the mountainous terrain continues, eventually merging with the
      Rockies many miles from here. To the north, things smooth somewhat into 
      the collection of foothills and rough land that makes up the highlands of 
      the Columbia basin. Nothing of interest is visible in either direction. 
      To the south lies the main branch of the north range of the Blue 
      Mountains, while to the west the trees thicken and a forest spreads out 
      over the feet of the peaks.

The snow clogs the air, whipped about in a continual hurricane of frost and
      bringing the visibility next to nill. Through the bitter winds, a howl 
      begins to rise. It's low at first, blending harmonies with the wind, 
      until it lifts higher and higher until with a high and airy pitch it 
      carries past the snowblinds clear and strong. It is an introduction, 
      carrying with it the introduction of one such cub who is on a quest. A 
      quest to find the one called Rain-Falls-Up.

Another howl rises up as the cubs' one starts to fade. Here here, it calls,
      come here.

A short time passes before another howl rings out, coming from somewhere far
      closer than the last. Where are you?, comes the cry, the cubs closer but 
      still needing direction.

The Red Talon's answer comes back, her howl holding a slightly exasperated
      note. Stay, the howl indicates now.

Faces-Rage , her paws lost in the snow, obeys and holds her ground. She squints
      aside to her tribe mate with icy whiskers, ears tilted back slightly.

Cold and wind-whipped, Whispers is filled with enthusiasm at meeting
      Rain-Falls-Up. Must remember to show respect and act natural, he reminds 
      both himself and the other cub.

Faces-Rage snorts softly and shakes the clinging snow from her coat. I did not
      forget my lessons. She reaches out to give the male a quick nip to the 
      shoulder.

Whispers takes this opportunity to shake his coat free of its covering too. Of
      course not, just... remember. He lets the nip slip by, he'd probably have 
      a playful go at her if this wasn't so important and they were on firmer 
      ground.

Faces-Rage flicks her ears once and exhales deeply, letting off a broad plume
      of white. I will remember. She fluffs up her fur to try and warm herself 
      a bit more, ignoring the wind that bites through her coat.

Rain-Falls-Up is a good-sized wolf with a thick fur coat. In her is a fine
      example of _Canis lupus_, a purely wild animal and a true predator. Long 
      legs and large paws carry her confidently along; she has heavy jaws and 
      prominent claws.

The Red Talon's pelt is a reddish-brown color, darker along her back from nose
      to tail-tip and paling to cream underneath. Black tips her bushy tail, 
      her upright ears, and her keen, intelligent hazel eyes. A close look 
      reveals gray and white and yellow hairs scattered throughout, and there 
      are light areas around her eyes and upon her cheeks and lower muzzle. Her 
      left front paw is a strikingly red color, almost scarlet.

I could not live up here, Whispers observes, glancing out at the great white
      nothing that he can pick though the blowing snow.

They're not certain when the wolf-born Garou arrives; there is a low chuff
      behind him, and she is there, a good-sized, red-furred wolf with a thick 
      winter coat, staring at them with quizzical hazel eyes.

Faces-Rage nearly starts, not having expected her to approach from behind. The
      ruddy black wolf, patched with white, turns about and pauses a moment, 
      before the young Gaian takes a step forward. Her head and neck are held 
      parallel to the ground, tail swung low. I am she who stands against 
      another's rage, cub of Unicorn and a spirit speaker. She pauses, allowing 
      her companion to introduce himself.

Only slightly smaller than a normal wolf, she still retains her athletically
      solid and sleek build. Her plush coat is predominantly black with 
      highlights of coppery reds and browns. Starting at the soft place under 
      her chin and running down to the base of her throat is a patch of white, 
      and the tip of her tail is also white. Her eyes are a dark brown with 
      flares of yellow. Pale scars are hidden under her coat.

I am Whispers, also spirit talker cub of Unicorn, offers the grey/brown cub,
      mimicking the posture of Faces-Rage. We are seeking to learn from you, 
      Rain-Falls-Up-rhya.

The first thing to notice about this near-adult wolf/wolfdog/dog? is its high
      contrast face of black nose and lips, deep brown eyes and wide, dark ears 
      all against his light brown/yellow muzzle and cheeks. Dark grey fur 
      extends from between those deep brown eyes and runs up and spreads over 
      his head like a pilot's leather cap, then continues where it fades to 
      black along his spine. His flanks are brown, blending into yellow on the 
      underside to match the colour of those strong, thin legs, right down to 
      those exposed black claws. A thick, grey, dark-tipped bushy tail suggests 
      a more primal genetic heritage, perhaps wolf or Alsatian.


Rain-Falls-Up pads forward confidently, tail and head raised. She examines
      Faces-Rage first, sniffing the female all over -- including some places 
      that homids would find embarrassing, yes -- and then does the same to 
      Whispers.

Faces-Rage holds her place and accepts the lupine greeting as gracefully as a
      homid-born can, which involves standing rather still. Our elder has spent 
      the last moon teaching us to live as wolves do. We still have questions. 
      Could you, one who was born a wolf, help us to learn more?

Whispers is most uncomfortable with the inspection, but holds still and endures
      it. He remains silent and attentive to the Talon's response.

Rain-Falls-Up agrees, as she moves away from them, that she can do this. She
      can do this very well. Will you be living here with her, then?

Faces-Rage can, her elder knows she is here. The young female's eyes gleam in
      eagerness, wanting desperatly to learn more.

Whispers clearly isn't happy with the idea of living up here in the biting cold
      wind, but he agrees to it.

Rain-Falls-Up looks pleased at the female, then pads closer again to the young
      male, shouldering him with casual roughness. Cannot truly learn wolf 
      without _being_ wolf, she tells them both, then yips for them to follow 
      and starts loping off.

Faces-Rage lolls her tongue out at Whispers. Be a wolf!, she playfully nips at
      him once more before whirling and bounding off after the Talon.

I am a wolf, he grumbles to himself, one that is smart enough to prefer warm,
      dry ground. He lopes off after them, a little miffed that he's being 
      picked on already.

The Talon could tell them that every pack has an omega, but she's too busy
      eating the miles. The wind and snow doesn't seem to bother her, nor does 
      the rough terrain. Before long, the two cubs are hopelessly lost -- if 
      Rain chose to abandon them, it's doubtful they'd be able to make their 
      way back home.

After a long time, she stops and starts sniffing around.

Faces-Rage follows in pawprints that are quickly engulfed by blowing snow,
      stepping high to avoid tripping up in the deep snow drifts. She must work 
      to adjust to the rocky landscape, and does so with a good amount of 
      success and manages to keep up and follow Rain without any major 
      accidents. As the trek comes to a pause, she too stops and refills her 
      lungs with the cold, biting air.

Whispers is still there with them, but trailing. Finally catching up to them,
      he wonders why they've stopped, and what Rain is sniffing for. He lowers 
      his snout to inhale whatever he can learn.

The cold claws at the nose and rips away scent... but the wolf-born Garou knows
      what she's looking for, it seems, because she starts to dig. Snow, then 
      dirt, flies away between her legs, and soon the two homids can smell 
      meat, a deer carcass only one day old.

Faces-Rage twitches her nose as she inhales the scent, almost instantly
      salivating as she recalls the last she tasted deer. It was just the end 
      of the week before when she and Emma hunted together, bringing down a 
      young doe who'd sprained her leg. She does not approach, instead waiting 
      and watching Rain to see if she'll ask them to come or not.

Whispers hungrily studies the carcass, considering the effort that would have
      gone into dragging the carcass here, and then burying it on top of that.

Much of the deer has already been eaten, and the meat is frozen from being
      under natural refrigeration. The Red Talon invites the two cubs to come 
      and join her in eating, then starts gnawing at a haunch.

Faces-Rage wags her tail in thanks and approaches. She crouches at the belly of
      the deer, silently offering her own thanks to the deer, before she goes 
      about seeing what good mouthfuls remain that her teeth can remove.

Rain-Falls-Up pulls off a strip of flesh, drops it, then tells the two cubs to
      stay here and eat, that she will return. Then she picks up the portion 
      and lopes off, soon lost to view.

Whispers bows in respect to the Talon for sharing her kill, then curiously
      watches the Talon leave. He approaches the deer to start on his meal. 
      It's cold, but it's heavy.

You paged the room with 'Okay. If necessary, handwave Rain coming back
      eventually and showing you a wolf-dug den to sleep in. Welcome to Wolf 
      Bootcamp. ;)'.