It is currently 17:58 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 6 2004.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 47 degrees
Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the
southwest at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.06 and rising,
and the relative humidity is 74 percent. The dewpoint is 39 degrees
Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (94% full).
You slip past the brush and scrub to enter the cave. Winding back through the
labyrinth, you eventually come out into the cave proper.
Cave of Wind
It is said that Father Wind, known to the Lakota as Tate, lives in a cave at
the end of the world. Well, perhaps this isn't the end of the world, but
it's the end of the continent, and the Wendigo around here have seen fit
to name the cave after the sacred being. It is aptly named, thanks to the
whistling wind created by the incessant breeze from off the bluff. This
'voice of the cave' is oddly serene. Carved by an ancient glacier, the
cavern's shape is as mercurial as the ice that formed it. It winds
through the stone in an odd labyrinth. Twenty or thirty feet in, it opens
to a wider, oblong shape, and it's here that the Wendigo make their home.
Glyphs paint the walls, and another, smaller firepit sits to one side.
The ceiling is, in places, more than two stories high into the depths of
the mountain, and the cave breaks off into smaller little tunnels, few of
which are large enough to explore.
Thanks to Des, Holly's got clothes. Warmed up and fed, she's curled up on the
floor of the cave, the blanket pulled over her to her shoulder. She's at
least lightly sleeping.
Atcen, back in homid, ducks into the cave with the stick in one hand and a
dead, starved-looking rabbit in the other. She stays near the entrance of
the tunnel, peering in, and upon spotting Holly, makes a barking yelp.
Holly startles awake, though she's quick to get her wits once she is a wake.
Rubbing her eyes, she offers Atcen a simple, "Hey," and then looks around
for Desiree.
"Hunger?" Atcen's frosted eyes are bright and keen. She holds up the rabbit,
which is bloody around the throat.
Holly shakes her head, eyeing the rabbit rather dubiously. "Desiree brought me
something, but, thanks. Is...that what you eat?"
Atcen cocks her head, puzzled at Holly's expression. "Yes." Squatting down, she
drops the stick and shifts upward into Glabro again, taking advantage of
sharper teeth and stronger jaws in order to bite into the bunny. Raw.
Holly's own jaw drops open, and she has to look away. "You don't even /cook/
it?" she asks, surprised--though, perhaps not as surprised as she should
be. She manages to glance back only once or twice at the sight of Atcen
eating.
Atcen mumbles, "Good like this," through a mouthful of raw rabbit. It's a messy
meal at best, but like a small child with a chocolate ice cream cone, the
Metis doesn't seem to mind.
"Yeah, looks...yummy," Holly says, hiding her queasiness by running a hand
across her mouth nonchalantly. "Anyway, you look like you could use it
more than me, anyway, in'it?"
Atcen digs out the rabbit's bellyparts with her fingers and pops them into her
mouth, one by one. "Have hunger, much." She looks at the other cub
shrewdly. "Like spirit. Hunger." With a couple of fingers, she digs down
under the rabbit's ribcage and yanks out the poor little bunny's bloody
heart, showing it to Holly.
Holly tries not to look horrified, and fails for the most part. Crawling a few
feet further the way off. "No, really. It's ok. You enjoy."
Atcen grins broadly, baring bloody teeth with elongated canines, upper and
lower. "We are Wendigo. Eat hearts of enemies." With obvious relish, she
demonstrates by devouring the bunnyheart. Happy Valentine's Day.
Holly grows a little ashen. "Heart Eaters, that's us, eh? Lovely." A hand
lightly touches her stomach. Obviously, what little she did it--from
Desiree--suddenly might not be agreeing with her.
"Is what ~our totem~ does," Atcen explains, licking her fingers and then
working busily at the carcass with her fingers. "Wendigo. Spirit of ice,
hunger, winter. His heart is ice."
Holly's still fairly ignorant of a great many things, and this news brings new
interest in the gaunt girl eating the rabbit. She averts her gaze from
the meal as much as possible, though, when she asks, "Are you saying that
I'll become like you? The cold won't bother me, and I'll be hungry all
the time, and all?"
Atcen's pale eyes narrow. She looks thoughtful for a moment, jaws working as
she chews on cold, raw rabbit meat. Then, swallowing, she shakes her
head. "Always this, me." She tips her chin up. "_Special_."
Holly takes the metaphorical bait. She sits up a bit, pooling the blanket
around her legs. "special how?"
"Like ~our totem~, me," Atcen tells the homid cub. "Hungry like Wendigo. Skinny
like Wendigo. Cold like Wendigo. Eyes like Wendigo." She nods firmly and
starts chewing on the rabbit's ropy entrails.
Holly nods to the explanation, but her brows still furrow with curiosity. "Yes,
but, how? How did you become special? Is it, like, a chief's daughter
thing?"
"Mother strong warrior," Atcen explains between bites. She cocks her head, eyes
narrowed. Thinking. "But did wrong. ~Brings the Buffalo Home~ speak
~Litany~ to you? Mated with male Garou. _Should_ mated with human or
wolf. Bad. So, me." She shrugs. "Put me out in cold, but I live. Special
of Wendigo."
Holly shakes her head in answer to the question, but the rest seems to just
confuse her--except the last. "Special, yeah. Strong. I can see that."
there's another small smile, after that, an odd affection whether Holly
wants to admit it or not. And the grizzly sight of the rabbit does not
help. It turns the smile into a grimace when she catches it in the corner
of her gaze.
Even when she's not looking, the sounds are shudder-worthy enough -- snaps and
cracks as she separates bones from joints and breaks ribs. And gnashing,
gnawing sounds. "Yes. Strong."
Holly does her best to ignore the sounds, but they don't seem to bother her as
much as the sight does. With a few deep breaths, her color approaches
something more normal. "So, what happens next, exactly? Do you know what
they're going to do with me?"
"Teach," Atcen says, licking blood from her wrist. "Talk, much." She looks down
at the wreckage of her kill and frowns. "Must go. Back... will be clean.
No more, you be sick." She smirks. "Born human, you. Can tell. Back
quick, me, yes?"
Holly offers a silent nod.
Atcen bares her teeth in a grin and slips out of the cave.
[...]
It is currently 20:18 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 6 2004.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (93% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 44 degrees
Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the
east at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.11 and rising, and
the relative humidity is 85 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees
Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)
Desiree tends to the fire and some other duties that have been unquestionably
assigned to her without any word of instruction, she just goes about them
naturally. She straightens and reaches for Jacinta's hand with a
welcoming smile. "Yes," she replies. "Excuse me for a moment." The
kinswoman ducks away from the other woman and heads to the back where she
returns with some wrapped packages and a large kettle for cooking.
Holly shakes her head. "I'm not sure what it is. Grams. She never told me, I
don't think. We could maybe call her and ask?"
Jacinta allows Desiree to go about her duties unhindered, and returns her
attention to the cub, returning to her easy crouch.
Leonard frowns. "Birthday." He straightens.
Atcen, in homid form and -- probably to Holly's relief -- by and large clean of
rabbit blood (nevermind those spatters on her t-shirt), ducks into the
cave, stopping at the entrance. Her frosted eyes narrow faintly, her
expression wary and guarded.
Desiree looks directly towards Holly as she pauses mid-through her chore of
cooking a meal for the evening. She is not named Skywatcher for any
particular reason, of course.
Holly has to think about it, oddly enough, for a few seconds before it gets
rattled off. "June 18th, 1988."
Jacinta glances over to the entrance of the cave, a small smile offered to the
metis cub before she returns her attention to Holly.
Leonard nods, mentally going over the date in his head.
Desiree is quiet for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling. "Uhh, would that
be a knife-moon?" she asks, attempting to figure from memory what moon
Holly would be.
Holly catches sight of Atcen, unable not to look at the blood. Though, for the
most part she ignores it this time. Her eyes go back to Leonard, then
Desiree. "A knife moon?"
Atcen meets Jacinta's eyes for a moment, but doesn't really smile. Without a
word, the Metis squats down in the entrance of the cave, skinny forearms
resting on bony knees. Watching.
Jacinta says "Theurge, the shaman, agayulyar."
Holly's eyes can't settle on any one person, they shift between all of them.
"Theurge," she repeats, "Like the man Grams was talking about. What is
it? What's it mean, exactly?"
Leonard explains. "Spirit-talker."
Holly lifts her chin, confusion clearing. "Ah," she says softly, ideas and
creative images making her dark eyes gleam for a moment.
Desiree is quiet again as she sets up for cooking over the fire.
Jacinta rises and, after a glance at Desiree's cooking, walks to the cub by the
entrance. "Did you practice, today?"
Leonard glances behind him, frowning as he sees the metis.
Atcen edges back at Leonard's frown and focusses on Jacinta instead. She nods
to the Ahroun. "Yes. Practice much. Talk much to..." She waves a hand in
Holly's direction. "Hol-lee." Her nose crinkles up amusedly. "Got rabbit.
But no hunger, her."
Holly pushes the blanket off her feet and stands up. she pushes her bangs out
of her eyes and looks to Desiree. "Can I help?" she asks.
Leonard steps in front of Holly. "She doesn't need your help. You've got your
own learning to do."
Holly looks surprised, blinking back at Leonard. "Oh. Ok. Just trying to be
useful, right?"
Leonard eyes the cub. "You're not old enough to be useful, yet. Your job is to
listen and learn. Now, what have you learned so far?" He motions for her
to sit, doing so himself.
"I can manage," Desiree answers in a quiet voice, then imediately returns to
what she was doing without interuption.
Jacinta nods silently, attention divided. Eventually she turns fully to the
metis. "Show me you can stand without falling."
Holly looks around, eyes lingering on Desiree for a moment before she settles
back to the ground beside Leonard. His tone inspires hers to be cool,
professional, completely impersonal. "I learned that there are different
things we do, depending on when we were born--under what moon. Other than
that, just that Atcen's special. She's stronger, or something. Wenigo
likes her more."
Leonard narrows his eyes, lowering. "_NO_. Did she tell you that?" He sends his
icy glare over his shoulder, at the metis cub.
Jacinta whirls around at Holly's words, face alive with horrified shock.
Desiree glances to Holly, showing a bit of surprise. The kinswoman lightly
coughs and returns to her preparation of making food for those here.
Holly blanches a little at the strong response, recoiling despite not wanting
to. She recovers enough to answer with facts. "the cold doesn't bother
her. She hunts, she's strong. Isn't that what Wendigo's like? Cold Heart
eaters?"
Leonard shakes his head, standing swiftly. He fairly glares down at the naive
cub. "You listen to me, and you listen carefully. Metis are Tainted. They
are cursed by Gaia herself. They are the proof of a breaking of the
Litany, and to break the Litany is a serious crime. Never, ever forget
that."
Jacinta's eyes narrow at Leonard's description. She doesn't interrupt, however.
Desiree seems to be the only one that does not have to worry about such tenet
in the litany, so she remains interuruptive and simply listens with
curiousity.
Holly shrinks back away from Leonard, but his words aren't lost on her. Her
eyes narrow as she looks back to Atcen. Instead of addressing Leonard,
she addresses the other cub, directly, "That's what you meant about it
being bad?" when she /does/ look back at Leonard, she asks, "What exactly
do you mean by Metis?"
Leonard sighs, forcing himself to calm down, and he retakes his seat. "Its a
human word they borrowed. It means the...product of two garou mating." He
runs a hand through his hair. "Maybe we should start with the Litany,
first."
Jacinta takes a single step toward Leonard. "There is much in the litany she
won't understand until she knows her purpose," she suggests quietly.
Leonard glances at Jacinta. "She doesn't have to understand it, yet. She just
has to follow it. And she can't do that until she knows it." He turns
back to the cub. "The Litany is a list of rules all Garou have agreed to
live by."
Holly focuses intently on Leonard, and then on Jacinta's interruption. The cub
seems smart enough not to speak yet, waiting to simply listen.
Jacinta tips her head to the side, accepting if not agreeing, and says no more.
Leonard warms up to the story. "The laws were given to us by Grandmother
herself. They are not hard to live by, in most cases. Anyway, back, far
far back, before humans had begun to huddle in cities and use tools,
there was a great concern among the Garou, the wolf-changers, that the
humans were becoming too many, and that, like rabbits when they
overbreed, would soon cover the whole earth and choke out all the other
beasts. They decided to do something about it. They decided to... cull.
Kill. Thin the herd. Some took to the idea with glee. Others, like our
people, disagreed with it. Our people knew how to keep their numbers
steady, they did not try to live away from Grandmother, what they call
Gaia. The other tribes all fell somewhere between these two thoughts.
Finally, those who thought we should not kill humans won over the others,
and the Laws were agreed upon."
Holly listens to the story in utter silence, concentrating. As Leonard makes a
point, she nods.
Jacinta retrieves her drum and makes her way over to the fire to sit. She uses
the drum, lightly, with her fingertips, to accent Leonard's telling.
Leonard nods. "So, you should know that there are many tribes, thirteen. There
are the Black Furies. They are Greek, and all of them are women, except
the metis. They... are unbalanced, in their hatred of men. They only use
them to have children, and don't seem to want anything else to do with
them. They also are very protective of women, and children, and
Grandmother's holy places, which is good, but they need to learn balance."
Holly continues to listen, her brows furrowing as she tries to keep straight
the things Leonard tells her.
Leonard nods. "Uh, who else... the Bone Gnawers." Here he frowns. "They are
dishonorable, almost to a man. They live in the city. They live OFF the
city. They survive, and that's about it. Don't trust their word."
Atcen had, unsurprisingly, withdrawn when the whole Metis issue came up, though
not before shooting Holly a venomous look. She is further back up the
tunnel that leads outside now, hunkered down and listening, but keeping
separate. From a pocket of her jeans she brings out a small bit of rabbit
bone, still bloody, part of one foreleg. She fiddles with it absently.
Holly slides Atcen a thin, apologetic look when she returns, but for the most
part she keeps her attention on Leonard, nodding in turn.
Jacinta's fingers travel lightly over the edge of her drum, occasionally
treading farther inward and creating a deeper, louder sound, occasionally
letting her short fingernails tap lightly at the wooden hoop that circles
the drum head. Otherwise, she is quiet, allowing Leonard to explain in
fullness.
Leonard frowns deeper, thinking. "Children of Gaia. They...mean well. At a
reservation, they would be the people with 'White Man's Burden.' Guilty
over what has happened to us, wanting to make it better, but not if it
means giving up anything of their own." He scowls. "They are also like
the ones who are always so eager to learn our ways, then take off in the
middle of a lesson, thinking they know it all, and promptly proclaiming
themselves shaman." He shakes his head.
Holly smirks at this, recognizing something in what Leonard says. "Father
Johnson," she mutters under her breath, unwilling to interrupt the
lesson, but unable not to voice her own gripe.
Atcen sticks the little bit of rabbit bone in her mouth and sucks on it as
Leonard tells of the Children of Gaia. Scuffling around, she leans her
back against the rough wall of the tunnel and hunches her shoulders.
Leonard frowns. "The Fianna are another story. They like to drink. A lot. THey
think they're the best storytellers and the best fighters and the best
everything else. Mostly, they're the loudmouths and the best drinkers.
They were among the worst of the Wyrmcomers, the white Garou, that came
to these lands. Taking what they wanted. There are a very few good ones,
but you don't trust any of them as a rule."
Holly simply nods again, though she's less sure she's keeping each of these
explanations straight, now. The uneasiness in her expression suggests she
wishes she had a notebook.
Jacinta places her palm in the center of her drum, stopping it. "Brings the
Buffalo Home, If I may ask a question - The Alpha of this place is
Fianna. Has she earned your faith and trust?"
Leonard frowns deeper. "No. The only Wyrmcomer who has done so is the Bone
Gnawer, Yi Three-Blades."
Jacinta nods slightly to herself. "Has she proven untrustworthy?"
Leonard growls. "She came in and took alpha of the Sept away from Luke by
claiming rank after being gone for two years without a word. She didn't
challenge for it, just took it. That, to me, smells like typical
Wyrmcomer." He shakes his head.
Holly, not knowing who these people are yet, just listens and tries to remember
as best as she can. While Jacinta and Leonard talk, she surreptitiously
glances toward Atcen, to see if she's still angry.
Atcen takes the rabbit bone, clean of blood now, from her mouth and bares her
teeth in response to Holly's look; her lip and nose wrinkle up in an
uncannily lupine way.
Jacinta accepts this with another silent nod and allows her fingers to resume
their play at the edge of her drum. "Quyana," she says softly.
Leonard nods back, turning to Holly. "Where was I. Oh yeah. Get of Fenris." He
wrinkles his nose. "They tend to be worse than the Fianna. Fight, fight,
fight. If I can take it, its mine." He shakes his head. "Again, there are
very few good ones. Trust none of them." He glances at Jacinta to see if
she's got a comment about that one, too.
Jacinta has no comment, and simply uses the drum to punctuate Leonards thoughts.
Holly decides to just nod at Leo, doing so several times to emphasize how much
she's paying attention. Her brow is knit with worry, though.
Leonard sighs. "The Glasswalkers. Urrah. They live in the city. They worship
the Weaver, the spider, almost as much as Grandmother." His face darkens.
"Some would say more. They tend to be untrustworthy and rely too much on
things like guns and cars, and of course being in the city taints them."
He looks at the girl. "Cities tend to be evil places, as you've seen." He
motions to your wounds. "Now, imagine living in a place like that all the
time, knowing what its really like, on the other side. Now, imagine
LIKING it."
Atcen covers her teeth again, and her lower lip juts out, stubborn and sullen.
Carefully, still hunkered down, she works her way a few steps closer,
staring intently at the Wendigo Elder, though not at his face. Listening
_very_ carefully.
Holly shudders. A dry-throated swallow is followed by a dour nod aimed at
Leonard.
Jacinta's lip curls at the image created through Leonard's words.
Leonard nods back, solemn. "The Red Talons are another tribe, like the Black
Furies, unbalanced, only instead of being all women, this tribe is all
wolf. They accept no human kin. There are those, such as you, born to
man. There are those, like Atcen, born of two garou. The Red Talons are
lupus, all born of wolf. They live like wolves, and tend to hate humans.
They live in the wild places." His head shakes sadly. "There are very few
of them left, and their anger is understandable. But they tried to steal
our kin, when they came here, just like the other Wyrmcomers. Still, at
least with them, you know where you stand. They don't tend to lie like
the others."
Leonard's face darkens. "Speaking of lying... next are the Shadow Lords. Just
like the Fianna and Get, they take what they want, but instead of using
strength, they tend to try and trick it out of you. Never, ever trust a
one of them. Ever. Especially if they're trying to do you a favor. You
can be polite, and respect your elders, but don't ever give them your
back."
"Makes sense, I guess," Holly says, nodding about the Red Talons. She curls her
legs underneath her to sit in a more comfortable position and resettles
to continue listening.
Leonard nods. "Then there are the Silent Striders. They are the wanderers, and
lost their home long ago. They don't tend to take caerns, and for that at
least, we can be grateful. But... too many of them walk alone. Its not
natural for Garou to be without a pack." He shakes his head. "And they
tend to be nosy. The Silver Fangs think they are lords of us all. They
came here wanting us to treat them like kings." He snorts. "We have no
kings. Not now, not ever. You prove your worth, you're not born to it."
He gives Atcen a significant look, at that. "The Stargazers have left us,
so there is no need to talk of them. The Uktena, though... they are Pure
Ones, or were. They don't deserve the name now, but they have Indian
blood. They are Older Brother to our Younger Brother, and we try and
stick together, but... they tend to mess with things best left alone.
Always looking for things that shouldn't be found. Always thinking they
know best, too." He gives Atcen another look.
Atcen looks sullen at both looks, but knows better than to meet the elder
Galliard's eyes. Instead she studies the rabbit foreleg-bone in her hand,
using a fingernail to dig at stuff encrusted at one end of it.
Holly watches the exchange between Leonard and Atcen, noting its significance
and pursing her lips. she simply nods to Leonard's teaching, remaining
silent and attentive.
Jacinta lets her fingers rest as Leonard comes to the end of the list of
tribes. She lifts the drum upright to rest on its handle, drumhead facing
the fire.
Leonard says quietly, "There is one more. Croatan. Middle Brother. But that is
a story for another time. He is no more." He stands. "Jacinta can teach
you the Laws of the Litany. I need to go."
Atcen plays with the rabbit bone, turning it over and over in her long-fingered
hands, looking sulky.
Jacinta looks slightly surprised by the final proclamation. She rises and walks
to Desiree. "What you always cook?"
Desiree looks up to Jacinta and explains, "Many things."
Holly's well aware of Atcen's sullen look, but she avoids the other cub for the
moment. Her eyes follow Jacinta and Desiree, and she asks of them, "How
many are there? I mean, all those tribes? How many skin-changers are
there walking around that I was completely unaware of til yesterday?"
Jacinta sniffs at the pot, a mixture of curiosity and gratitude crossing her
face as she raises it again to the Kin-woman. "How soon to eat?" She
turns her attention to Holly even before Desiree has a chance to answer.
"Too few. While you eat, I will explain."
Atcen puts one end of the small, slender bone into her mouth and curls up
against the wall of the tunnel, drawing too-long arms and legs close to
her skinny torso in the apparantly self-knotting way that skinny young
girls seem to be able to do at a whim. She keeps looking in and
listening, but doesn't come any closer to the nexus of warmth and light.
Holly nods simply to Jacinta and gets up to get some of the food Desiree's been
cooking. Once she has it, she eats ravenously, sitting off in a corner by
herself.
"Almost," Desiree replies as she answer Jacinta. The kinswoman gathers bowls
and comes back to pour the stew that she had made into the smaller bowls.
Jacinta motions to the cub by the cave mouth. "Come here."
Atcen hunches her shoulders and doesn't seem to want to budge. "Hot," she
complains.
Jacinta peers at the metis. "Do not refuse your elders. When told, you do what
you are told without complaint or hesitation. Brings the Buffalo Home
would beat you, now. Do you understand?"
Atcen, lip jutting out sullenly, nods and gets up. Her face and shoulders grow
tight as she steps into the cave; the rabbit bone vanishes into a pocket
of her jeans.
Jacinta nods. "Good. Now, you may move to where you are more comfortable and
show me how you can stand without falling. Tell me what you have learned,
today, while I change out of my quspuq." She moves a bit farther into the
cave to her pile of belongings to change.
"Lost stick," the metis cub mutters. She finds a place as far away from the
firepits as possible, but even so, she's soon sweating. "To-day. Learned
tribes. Talked human-talk." She frowns. "Do not know... ~cannibals,
totem, Litany.~" The young brow furrows, growing lines between the dark
black eyebrows. "K-ars. Un-truh-st-worthy." Pause. "White Man Bur-den."
Jacinta carefully folds her quspuq and black jeans, nodding. Pulling on her
older, faded clothes, and putting a heavy sweater under her arm, she
turns back to Atcen. "Human words. English. What tribes did you learn of
while the Elder spoke?"
Atcen wipes sweat from her forehead and shifts her weight from one bare foot to
the other, uncomfortably. "Knew Uktena. Know Croatan." Her lips thin.
"Know Chi-uld of Gaia and Glass Walk-er..." She frowns. "No. Not Glass
Walk-er. Just... _him_. Josh-wa."
Jacinta seems nearly satisfied, if not entirely. "Sometimes the Horned Serpent
fights with fire. Sometimes the only way to beat him is with fire. You
need to practice with holding against the heat. You understand? Let us go
out, now. Tomorrow you can help me build a maqii house."
"A what?" Despite her question, Atcen jumps on the idea of getting _away_ from
the hot place and is already moving toward the exit.
Two Eagles Bluff(#3332RJ)
To the northeast, the foothills climb upwards into the steep, snow-capped crags
and mountains. Here, the tall summer grasses bend in sporadic waves as
the wind dances on the bluff. The evergreens and aspens give way to an
open field that lends itself to a panoramic and picturesque view to the
south and east. A small stream wends its way unobtrusively through the
eastern edge of the mountain's crags, the scent and sound of trickling
water clear on the hesitant but almost incessant breeze. Wildflowers
litter the green of the grass, coloring them with touches of violet and
bright oranges, yellows and blues. Tucked in along the sloped wall of the
forested foothills to the northeast is a well-worn section of ground.
Jacinta says "A maqii house. A place to cleanse, body and mind and spirit. You
will help me build it, and you will make peace with heat within it."
Atcen bites at her lower lip, her thin face twisting into an expression of
worry. She nods slowly, but with visible reluctance.
Jacinta stretches. First pulling each arm across her chest, then shaking her
fingers, wrists, whole arms, and finally swinging her arms in circles by
her side. "So. Wendigo, Uktena, Croatan you were taught of before.
Children of Gaia you know? Glass Walkers... you know Wolf-Heart, and that
is all? What do you know of the Children of Gaia, then?"
Atcen's eyes narrow, her expression turning shrewd. "Watch Ah-leesh-ya-rhya
teach. In ~Umbra~. Very happy." She frowns, thinking for a moment, then
sighs. "Talk like all same. ~When White Bison rhya~ come, and me,
Ah-leesh-rhya tell ~White Bison rhya~ that she take me if ~Brings the
Buffalo Home rhya~ will not." Her frown deepens. "She _talks_. But..."
The cub's struggling with her English vocabulary. "She talks, but is
_her_ cubs and then _me_. Is... is..." The cub sighs. ~She talks and
talks and it's not _real_. It doesn't seem _real_.~
Jacinta smiles. "She's qussaq," she says offhandedly, and then stops. A frown
crosses her face and Pierces Ice grows deadly serious. "This is
important. Who you are is more than who your parents were. More than what
tribe you were born to. Brings the Buffalo Home blames you for your
parents' mistake. This is wrong. Just as it is wrong to blame a qussaq
for having white parents, or a Child of Gaia for being born to their
tribe." She raises her eyes to the moon and gazes at it sadly. ~Many
times, beings will prove themselves the products of their parents. But it
is not right to assume that they will. It is better to reserve judgement
until they can show what they are.~
Atcen mumbles, "Qussaq," echoing Jacinta. Listening to the older Wendigo's
words, she nods slowly. Then frowns. "He... ~Brings the Buffalo Home
rhya~ says only _one_ Wyrmcomer is... is good." Her frown deepens. "But
he is anger at ~White Bison rhya~ too."
Jacinta glances over her should at the entrance to the cave. Thrusting her
hands in her pockets she says, "I have only been here a short time, and
Brings the Buffalo Home deserves much respect. But he has much anger in
him. I do not know if he brought it with him, or if it grew of his
experiences here. He carries anger toward all who are not built as
mirrors of him. I think he is angry with all the Uktena for their ...
softness. He blames White Bison for bringing the shame of your parents to
him. I think. If you prove your worth, prove that Grandmother gave you
life with a purpose, he may come to recognize it." With a deep sigh and
another glance toward the cave mouth she completes her thought. "He and
I, we are different. To him, everyone must prove their worth before he
allows them to enter his heart. To me, it is the opposite. Everyone
begins with free entry to my heart. They must prove they do not deserve
my respect.
Atcen gnaws on her lower lip as she listens -- and apart from fidgety shifting
of foot to foot, she listens pretty carefully. "Oh," she murmurs.
Jacinta begins her stretching routine again. "It is up to you, which path you
choose."
Atcen watches Jacinta for a moment, then starts copying her motions, slowly.
She has no reply, though she's clearly thinking about it.
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