hazlogs: Gaia Glyph (Gaia)
hazlogs ([personal profile] hazlogs) wrote2004-02-10 06:33 pm

~I am no Galliard, but I will tell the tale, or tales, as best I can.~


It is currently 18:33 Pacific Time on Tue Feb 10 2004.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 47 degrees
      Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      northeast at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.33 and falling, 
      and the relative humidity is 65 percent. The dewpoint is 36 degrees 
      Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (67% full).
You step out of the water onto the soft grass of the shore.

Center of the Caern
This area of the clearing is about 30 meters wide and is a mixture of dark soil
      and clay throughout. The ground is mostly mud, but patches of grass, 
      halted by winter's cold, are beginning to peek through the ground and 
      take root. Near the center of the clearing, a small cairn has been built 
      with white stone and quartz--what was left of the beautiful boulder that 
      was once there. None of the stones is bigger than a softball.
Around you, twenty yards in every direction, stretches the caern. To the
      southeast, a waterfall plummets over the edge of the chasm into a small 
      pool in the caern; nearby, to the southwest, steam comes from cracks in 
      the ground, perhaps some of the same water. Northwest, a rocky spar juts 
      out of the ground at a low angle, showing a sloping but smooth top. The 
      chasm walls narrow a bit to the northeast, causing some of the mist to 
      swirl in that area.

Julie's attention shifts, and she is immediately looking about.
Emma comes jogging up towards the gathered, slowing once she gets to a
      respectable distance. Her eyes scan the crowd, and finding Signe, she 
      decides it best to join her Tribesmate and Elder for the moot. She moves 
      then with a slower confidence, stopping once she is beside the Fostern 
      Get.
Jacinta doesn't seem aware of the thermos, but shows her approval of his words
      with a sharp nod. "Assirtua."
Snake-Bait chuffs a yes to that, sitting next to his fellow Gnawer Ragabash.
      Julie gets a once-over, then the wolf's ears prick. Hello, Blotches, he 
      whuffs, sniffing at the ground. I'm Snake-Bait, or Takes-Chances. If you 
      remember.
Sheeaghan appears from out of the shadows of the woods. She keeps to the back
      of those gathered, not imediately in the thall as one would usually see 
      her.
Taslyn plays with her fingers, still very quiet and sitting much by herself.
Signe looks very pleased to see Emma, despite the natural scowl she wears. She
      gives the cub a friendly little 'Get' nudge and then folds her arms 
      across her chest and settles down as much as possible.
Salem arrives alone, sans coat for once, dressed in dark red and black and
      clean-shaven. His hair, though growing out from the buzzcut of months 
      past, is still quite short.
Julie blinks once, or twice, then Ohs silently, giving him a quick grin. "Hi."
Coming down into the center, Cycle-Breaker stops, scanning the area, before
      spotting Sidhefuil; upon seeing the Fianna, she trots over to her, 
      lightly chuffing a greeting to her friend and soon-to-be packmate.
Olga sights Sidhefuil as her eyes spin over the crowd, and she tilts her head
      oddly. The Gnawers off to the side get a wide wave, but her feet take her 
      straight to the Fianna. "Hi, Layne," she says to her, dropping her bag 
      down near the Lupus, and flopping down on it, as it emits a slow wheeze 
      of escaping air.
Joshua nods, taking back the coffee. ~I must go now, and stand with my tribe
      mates.~ The shirtless and very burnt cub backs up a step before pacing 
      slowly off to Salem, approaching him very carefully. ~Scar-Rhya.~ He 
      offers in greeting, coming to a stop behind Salem.
Reggie slithers into the caern with an adroitness belied by his size, and he
      selects much shorter people to practice looming over, as he looks about 
      expectantly for the sky to start opening.
The young galliard walks into the Caern, a depressive, irritated air floating
      about him. his eyes widen slightly in shock as he stared at all the 
      gathered garou, but a slow smile spreads across his face as he sights 
      Jarred, walking in his direction and bowing his head. "Greetings to you, 
      Jarred-ryah. I have come." (Asteryx)
Konstantin, still exceedingly bored, glances at his watch, then over toward
      Megan. "Start the fucking film?" he seems to mouth toward her. He smiles 
      toothily, and then heads up on the Rock Slab.
The starved, gaunt form of Atcen comes down into the caern. With the metis cub
      is a old woman in her seventies, dark-skinned and white-haired and with 
      the stance and bearing of a highly-ranked Garou. The pair take a place 
      near the edge of the caern -- the young one wary and sullen, the old one 
      serene, smiling but aloof.
Jarred nods to the young Shadow Lord Galliard and smiles. "Welcome to Moot,
      Asteryx."
Three-Blades clips off her friendly wuff towards Olga as the theurge breaks off
      to join the Fianna, and others unknown to her start showing up. She 
      sniffs the air, taking in the scents.
Sidhefuil pushes up off her haunches to welcome Cycle-Breaker and Olga; both
      get a fond nose-bump from the red-brown wolf. She takes a moment, too, to 
      study the Gnawer, all cleaned up and ready for moot. Turning in a circle 
      once, she resettles herself in the grass, gaze ticking toward the sept 
      elder.
Fingering the goggles around his neck, Asteryx stands next to Jarred, observing
      all the gathered Garou, an unreadable expression on those hard, Russian 
      features. "When are we gonna start?" he asked, shifting in slight 
      excitement.
As Joshua walks off, Jacinta smiles to see White Bison and the cub with her.
      She moves back to the edge to stand with her tribemate and the elder.
Snake-Bait's attention is drawn to Atcen and the old woman briefly, then the
      wolf's ear flicks, and he's back to watching the assembly grow.
From the rock outcropping, "Jesus Christ," Konstantin shouts from the slab.
      "Who left out the firewater? Well, alright, I'm bored. Megan-rhya, how 
      about if you flash your right boob at everyone while we wait? Then I'll 
      find some lame-ass commercials to show about erectile dysfunction. We'll 
      have our own little mini-Stupor Bowl while we wait on our tardy Galliard."
Julie just sits quietly, blue eyes peering about through the veil of black and
      blond braids. Her hair never was cut after it started to grow out from 
      the dye-job. She's just kept rebraiding it.
Severs twitches one ear.
Olga grins and pats Sidhefuil's head in return for the bump, nodding at
      Cycle-Breaker as well. "Any interestin' dreams, guys?" she questions them 
      resignedly, leaning back against her bag.
Taslyn looks up to see the elder walk into the area. She smiles a little bit
      and then returns to the fire, but the yelling almost makes her smile, 
      getting rid of some of her worries.
Asteryx turns a confused stare at Konstantin, raising an eyebrow and looking
      slightly guardedly at the ground he stood on.
The Black Fury elder shakes her head as she settles on her haunches next to
      Sidhefuil, ignoring everything else at the moment. No dreams that mean 
      anything.
Salem glances sidelong at Joshua, giving the cub a narrow-eyed look and then a
      curt nod. Arms across his chest, he turns his attention back to the 
      others and gives the impression of being able to wait until Doomsday for 
      the Moot to start.
Three-Blades peers up towards the rocky slab where Konstantin shouts along.
      Definitely the Fool tonight, she muses to herself.
Anthony pauses, squinting across the group at the Walker elder, a frown
      crossing his lips. Shuffling slowly, he takes his time in joining Salem 
      and Josh.
Julie spies Salem, and studies him a moment from a distance, then glances again
      around the croud.
Atcen smiles wanly at Jacinta, while the elderly White Bison all but beams at
      the short, stocky Wendigo Ahroun. Neither says anything, however.
Snake-Bait snorts, then licks his lips. Definitely.
Emma watches quietly as everyone arrives, taking special note of the scrawny
      metis and her Elder. It is then she leans up to whisper something to 
      Signe.
The Caller howls to announce the beginning of the Moot, and then begins the
      back-and-forth recitation of the Litany, with Konstantin parrying deftly. 
      When the last Litany point is done, it is time for the Opening of the 
      Sky, and Megan, this time, looks to Jamethon, giving him a thinly 
      encouraging smile.
Sidhefuil tries not to look disturbed at Olga's question, but that's a
      difficult task. 'Nothing I wish to interpret as our answer,' she 
      rumble-growls. The Philodox flicks an ear as the calling finally begins.
Asteryx gazes with curiosity on the metis walking forth with that elder. His
      ears almost visibly twitch, though in the human skin, when the howl is 
      shouted forth. Turning attentively, he participates as is necessary...
Signe, too, seems to edge away from White Bison. Emma's whisper making the Get
      JArl nearly grind her teeth. Her only answer is a vague shrug and a 
      gesture for the cub to pay attention to things.
Dakota settles in beside Karl, glancing around briefly. Her elder, Alicia,
      arrives momentarily and settles in behind her cubs with a pat to both 
      their shoulders and a confident grin on her face. Both cousins fall quiet 
      as they listen to the moot.
Salem keeps silent during the call of the Litany, as does Atcen. White Bison,
      on the other hand, makes one or two cutting remarks to rebuke the Fool... 
      but keeps her detached, even distracted air.
Chance settles down on the cleanest patch of ground he can find, his black paws
      stretched out before him comfortably.
By the waterfall, Fights-For-Hope continues to stand stoicly before the
      waterfall, when Megan looks to him his form carries up to that of the 
      Crinos and a sharp bark that carries over the din of the Caern is given.
Julie fidgets a bit, then snaps her attention toward Fights.
By the waterfall, The Get of Fenris Gatekeeper stands tall in the crinos form,
      in front of the pool at the base of the waterfall and facing the true 
      center of the Caern. He shifts down quickly into the lupus form, and then 
      up into homid, following that with glabro. As this is going on, he is 
      howling, a sound that is ever changing as his form changes, he soon 
      reaches the hispo form, and his howl is vicious from such a body. Back to 
      homid and crinos and hispo and lupus and glabro and over and over he 
      goes. His screwed up face shows some pain though the transformations, but 
      his howl continues in a welcoming tone. After some time of going flowing 
      through the forms his howl takes on the effort of communication in the 
      mother's tongue, something in the speech makes it clear that the spirit's 
      too... would understand the calling. ~Lady of the many faces! The wise 
      ever-changing silver mirror! We, your followers, welcome you to your 
      home. We call to you to flow like quicksilver into our very souls and see 
      that you are our chosen, and we yours! Chimera, come! Come to us!~ As he 
      neared the end of his calling, the Gatekeeper's form was that of the 
      lupus... but as his words come to a close his form explodes into that of 
      the crinos and his howl erupts into the night sky.
Asteryx stands there, wide eyed in awe, his mouth hanging open slightly as he
      gaze upon the magnificent ritual put forth by the Gatekeeper.
Firewatcher flows up into hispo, and adds her howl to the Gatekeeper's,
      automatically shifting her voice so that it falls into the odd dissonance 
      characteristic of wolf pack howls.
Taslyn shifts and adds to the howl, standing and lifting her voice to the wind.
Signe follows her tribemate up into the war form, offering her own howl to the
      discordant music of the entire sept.
Snake-Bait follows Fights-For-Hope's shift to crinos, his own howl adding to
      the dissonant tones.
White Bison watches the Gatekeeper with intense brown eyes, then shifts
      smoothly up into Crinos and joins in the howl, crying her respect to the 
      caern's spirit. Atcen follows suit after a moment and with more 
      awkwardness, her voice full of youth's energy and not unpleasing to the 
      ear.
Three-Blades howls in a disharmonious fashion, her own lupine voice punctuated
      with supplication to the Mirror-Faced totem spirit of the caern to bless 
      the gathered.
Dakota narrows her eyes and swells up into the warform. The Child of Gaia
      throws back her head and sounds a howl to join the growing chorus, her 
      voice rising with an haunting, airy quality.
Jarred shifts to his war-form and adds the richness of his voice to the
      gathering clamor of the wolves' song.
Joshua shifts up to his Crinos Form (Looking no better in it), joining in the
      howl.
Salem, perhaps surprisingly, takes Crinos form as well and adds his voice --
      Jackal-cursed as it is -- to the chorus.
Julie grins a bit, then nudges Yi with an elbow before she drags herself to her
      feet, shifting to crinos to join in the howling.
Emma rises up to her warform and tips her head back, howling with a cry of new
      pride and awe.
Olga steps gingerly out of her shoes and removes her coat and 'kerchief,
      shifting from foot to foot and rolling her head from one shoulder to the 
      other. She pops quickly into Crinos, form rising, and lets out a loud, 
      low, slightly mournful howl.
Jacinta's form blurs up into Crinos, adding her deep voice to the others.
Asteryx shifts to his wiry, dark war-form, adding his deep, sullen voice to the
      beautiful howls, a discordant roar howling forth from his throat.
Sheeaghan lifts her head, looking towards her fellow Gatekeeper. The Fianna
      Theurge rises her head as her howl matches several of those within the 
      sept's crowd.
Severs lifts his head and yips sharply.
Like his brothers and sisters around him, Karl expands into the furball of
      Crinos, adding his voice to the chorus of howling.
The Silver Fang Elder's howl reverberates with the others.
Anthony shifts up as well, adding a rather tentative howl to the others'.
Taslyn shifts back to homid and listens to the music of all the voices
      combined. A smile crawls over her face as she then leans down and picks 
      up a leather clad bundle, moving it in her hand and then under her arm.
Sidhefuil remains in lupus and joins awkwardly into the opening howl. Though
      strong, there's something strange and a touch uncertain in her voice, 
      tonight.
Asteryx's voice eventually reaches a pitch of beauty, the galliard's song a
      primal call to the starry sky, an echo of a time of Gaia's glory, 
      reflected in the mirror-like call from his black-furred throat.
Reggie adds a half-strangled howl to the cacophony of the moot.
Cycle-Breaker, too, joins into the howl, voice not as strong as the others but
      audible nonetheless.
By the waterfall, Behind the Fenrir theurge, the pool at the waterfall's bottom
      explodes up as if into it a giant stone of much weight had fallen from a 
      high place. The water shoots like a wave incredibly high in to the air, 
      arching over the Get and those standing anywhere near. As the wave arches 
      lower it slows, and takes on a silvery shine that reflects images of 
      those around the caern a thousand times over. A few facets of reflection 
      show the viewer in a battle, performing a ritual, or teaching a cub among 
      many other honorable actions all from the viewer's past. As the Sept 
      joins in the howl the silvered water begins to swirl over head, rising 
      and coalescing into a sheet that appears to be one giant mirror. Instead 
      of reflecting down the image of those in the caern, it is the tops of a 
      great forest they see, with trees that look to be colossal and primordial 
      in age. This image ripples and shivers for a moment as the howl 
      continues, till once more the water explodes, raining down upon the Sept 
      water that is quite cold, but refreshing and pure in a way that cannot be 
      natural. As the waters come down, James howls out to the Sept, ~Chimera 
      has come! The Inner Sky is Open! Let us moot!~
Konstantin, the jaded yout looks genuinely impressed at the spirit's
      appearance. But the expression vanishes in a few moments. Then he looks 
      irritated at his soggy smoke.
Blotches lifts her elongated face up to the falling 'rain', a toothy grin
      splitting her maw.
Severs scurries away from the explosion, scuttling toward the rock slab at the
      unexpected commotion.
Three-Blades opens her jaws to catch some of the water, before giving herself a
      quick shakes and watching, with a bit of wariness, the great and wild 
      forest displayed clearer than HDTV.
The young, song-filled Galliard steps forth, the silvery water falling upon
      Asteryx's face as a serene sigh breaks his lips, ending his call to the 
      sky. His cold eyes open and focus upon the James, the tall, swarthy 
      crinos seemingly becoming one with the magic of tonight...
Atcen's eyes go wide with awe, her howl stopping short as she just stares,
      muzzle agape. Beside her, the old Uktena smiles a blissful smile and, 
      shifting back to homid, raises her hands palms-up to the cold fall of 
      water. And Salem's black fur glistens with chilly droplets for a moment 
      before he returns to human form.
Wolf-Heart silences as he shift back down to Glabro, the youth falling still
      again.
Defiant-Storm's hackles rise as she watches the enigmatic spirit's explosive
      entry. The ahroun closes her eyes and lets the water rain down on her, 
      though, arms held out. When Fights For Hope declares the sky open, she 
      dwindles back down to her breed form.
Taslyn looks up to the beauty before her and enjoys the rain pelting he face.
      She steps forward and bows her head for a moment, then raising she looks 
      about the sept. Taslyn's muscles twitch and expand, and her skin sprouts 
      fur, as she takes the Crinos form. Then she reaches into a leather bundle 
      and pulls out a deer femur. She then holds up the bone and with a quick 
      snap, the bone cracks into two jagged pieces. She speaks in a strong 
      voice, looking around the group.~All here honor the traditions of the 
      bone as we crack it, to bind each of us to the truth inside. Let those 
      with announcements please step forward,~ as the halfmoon holds the bone 
      out to the first to speak.
Snake-Bait gets to his feet, striding towards Taslyn and taking the bone from
      her. He studies the ground, then the assembled Garou, before shaking some 
      of the water off of his fur. ~Sees-True-Form has gone away, and I do not 
      know where to. The Bone Gnawers needed an Elder, and I have taken that 
      position. If any have business with my tribe, find me, or send me a 
      message.~ His ears flick forward as he takes another look at the 
      surrounding Garou, then offers the bone to the next speaker.
Once the sky is opened, Julie sinks down to her birth form, and sits on the
      soggy ground without a care.
Leala stares at the fantastic spectacle before her, barely moving a muscle. She
      is looking toward the spirit, but expression remains blank and distracted.
Anthony initially grimaces at the falling rain, though he quickly relaxes,
      reverting back to breed form and crouching once the sky's declared open.
Asteryx regards the new Bone Gnawer elder with an unidentifiable expression...
      for a moment, it seems that he has something to say, but he silently 
      steps back next to his elder, reverting to his small breed form in the 
      next instant, a strange shadow of a man beneath the towering gathering of 
      crinos. Slipping his hands in his pockets, he falls silent, plain to see 
      that he had nothing of worth to say before the gathered.
Sidhefuil shivers and shudders as Chimera's visions swirl up above, then
      splinter and rain down over the assemblage. Head bowing slowly, she 
      allows the ephemeral droplets to sink through fur, into skin, and 
      releases a thin breath. 'Lady,' comes a faint growl. She twists eyes to 
      her pa--to Cycle-Breaker and Olga, quietly guaging reactions, then turns 
      her attention to Taslyn as she begins to play Truthcatcher.
Fat-Ripper gives a few faint huffs like a human's chuckling, as she shakes her
      fur free of the water, and carefully removes her shoes from where she'd 
      tucked them under her coat so they wouldn't get wet. Craig's announcement 
      gets a strange yip of acknowledgement.
Atcen sinks back into her gaunt human form and hunkers down next to Jacinta and
      White Bison. The metis cub watches in silence, with wide blue eyes.
Three-Blades looks unperturbed by Snake-Bait's announcement. Expectantly, she
      glances about and looks also to Julie, before turning back to the 
      Truthcatcher and the passing of the bones.
Jacinta shakes the water from her fur before reverting to her breed form,
      watching the proceedings with intense curiosity.
Defends-Worth steps back forward and takes the bones back from Snake-Bait, to
      whom she gives a bow of her head. ~Are there any among the Gnawers who 
      would wish to challenge Snake-Bait in his taking of the position of 
      Elder?~ She looks about the group, waiting for any words to come from 
      others.
Signe looks decidedly irritable and frustrated at the news from the Bone
      Gnawer. Her scowl deepens, and once again she folds her arms across her 
      chest, jaw clenching tightly.
Sheeaghan watches as the rain begins to fall and her ears lie flat againts her
      head, although there is a more curious expression that speads across her 
      muzzle. The pale wolf shifts and gives an open yawn before she looks up 
      to the Get of Fenris and gives a light shake of her pelt.
Julie says nothing, and appears to have no reaction, either for or against. She
      just gazes straight at those speaking before the assembled, an unreadable 
      expression on gaunt features.
Fat-Ripper drops herself into her Homid form, stretching out her arms, and
      replacing her shoes on her feet. She gingerly replaces herself on her 
      bag, and watches the proceedings, with first a quick glance over to 
      Cycle-Breaker and Sidhefuil.
Snake-Bait bows back to the Fianna, looking over his tribesmates as he moves
      away from being the center of attention. The no-moon walks back over to 
      take his seat next to Three-Blades, shrinking to his breed form once he 
      arrives.
Firewatcher is looking at Julie speculatively for her reaction to Snake-Bait's
      announcement but when nothing is forthcoming, she huffs lightly. Then 
      catching a nod from Taslyn, she pads forward, shifting up into crinos to 
      take one half of the bone from the Truthcatcher, and looks at Julie once 
      more. "Julie" ~of the Bone Gnawers came to me today, and told me that 
      she, too, knew of the origins of the metis Squeaks. Although I admire her 
      honor,~ she emphasizes slowly, ~for coming forward when she may have 
      continued her silence, as Sees-True, Snake-Bait, and the others were 
      punished for holding their silence, so shall she be, with the same 
      punishment. Galliard, come forward.~
Julie closes her eyes a moment as she is called forth, a slow heave of
      shoulders giving motion to the sigh that escapes. As she rises to her 
      feet, she shifts to Crinos, muzzle held up in grim determination. 
      Advancing toward the Alpha, she looks neither left nor right, but only at 
      Firewatcher.
Salem raises an eyebrow, turning to look over at Julie; his gaze tracks her
      movements up to the Sept Alpha.
Three-Blades at this looks surprised, if only because the punishment about to
      be meted out seems unnecessary. The ragabash rises to her paws, but 
      remains in place, looking anxiously at the proceeding.
Asteryx gazes silently upon Julie, narrowing those dark eyes, looking for any
      hints of cowardice. Such is a true Shadow Lord's intent... Indeed, he 
      seems to be studying nearly every facet of her. Turning a questioning 
      look upon Jarred, he then turns that dark eyes back upon the Galliard, 
      watching her grim determination, her dark readiness to accept the 
      punishment.
Signe stares hard over to where Julie is, muscles tensing as she drops her
      hands to her hips. The scowl deepens further, a few incomprehensible 
      mutters escaping under the Get's breath.
Konstantin smirks, smugly. His eyes narrow faintly. He digs around for another
      cigarette.
Olga watches calmly, scratching at her hairline a little, eyes as much on
      everyone else as on the woman going up to receive her punishment. She 
      runs her tongue over her lips absent-mindedly as she gauges the crowd.
Jarred, who has taken his homid form once more, watches silently as another
      conspirator is brought to light.
By the waterfall, Fights-For-Hope looks upon the Gnawer with harsh eyes from
      where he still stands after the opening.
Sheeaghan lowers her gaze and looks imediately at the ground.
Craig leans forward as well, gaze slipping from Julie to Yi and back. He
      frowns, scratching at his chin.
Blotches can feel the stares on her back, muscles twitching under the fur at
      the scrutiny. With a swallow, she comes to a halt before Firewatcher, and 
      drops her gaze submissively.
Cycle-Breaker is still silent as she has been, watching everything intently.
Jacinta's brows knit as she watches Julie and the Alpha. Curiosity readily
      obvious in the cant of her head.
Megan takes up a small bag left off to the side of center, and begins the
      ritual. She repeats the charges, that Renee and Craig had produced a 
      metis cub, even if the mistake was an honest one, a mistake compounded 
      and made worse when R.A.T. and many other city Garou actively covered up 
      the parentage of the metis, Squeaks. At the crescendo of the litany, she 
      says, ~And so, for the dishonor of failing in her duties as a Galliard, 
      for contributing to the shame brought upon this entire Sept for the 
      corruption that spread through our leaders, and those we look to in the 
      city,~ she dips her hand into the bag, pulling out a handful of some 
      dark, powdery substance which she then blows lightly into Blotches' face, 
      ~because thy cowardice has proved thee to be of jackal blood, let thy 
      voice proclaim they true breed!~
Asteryx sighs and lowers his head, shaking it slightly and muttering in a
      whisper under his breath... "Such is the price for knowledge of 
      conceiving one of the Twisted..."
Severs twitches an ear.
Atcen scowls faintly, though for what reason isn't entirely clear; her lower
      lip juts out sullenly. White Bison continues to look serene.
Blotches inhales, startled, then sneezes. ~I willing admit to this gross wrong~
      her voice cracking and pitching high and grating, and even she winces at 
      its sound, ~so that just punishment shall purge my blood of my sin.~ This 
      she says to Firwatcher, but says it clear enough for all to hear.
Three-Blades's ears turn back against her head, held down like flat pieces of
      furred coal. Her head sinks down, but her golden eyes glint with a hint 
      of the Rage working itself behind them.
K. C. is late and she knows it, but she picks her way down into the caern all
      the same, and heads to stand in a place near-ish Salem.
Salem glances over as K. C. joins the Walker brigade with him and Joshua and
      Anthony. He gives her a brief, thin smile, then turns his attention back 
      to the Cracking.
Jacinta nods to herself and can't help a small glance toward Atcen before her
      gaze drops to the worn ground at her feet.
Sidhefuil grunts lowly to Cycle-Breaker and Olga when Firewatcher finishes with
      Julie, and glides forward toward Taslyn. As she moves, Fianna wolf 
      becomes the halfmoon in her warshape, and she takes up the bone fragments 
      with a slight nod to the Truthcatcher. Elevating claws slightly, she 
      turns to address her septmates, ~As recent events have left the office of 
      Master of the Challenge empty, I...Sidhefuil, Philodox of the Fianna am 
      claiming the position. If any wish to challenge for it, do so now.~ She 
      cocks her head a fraction, eyes narrowing slightly, chin jerking up 
      before she continues, calm, ~Tonight, I announce two challenges for rank. 
      The first, Fights-for-Hope, Get of Fenris Theurge, to Severs, Shadow Lord 
      of the same auspice.~ She pinpoints both among the gathered, nodding a 
      go-ahead.
Blotches dutifully returns to those of her tribe, head hung in proper shame for
      her transgression. Glancing over them, she waits for their own judgment; 
      tolerance, or ostracizing.
Cutter shifts swiftly to homid, cigarette dangling from his lips, as he steps
      forward to take one of the bone shards. He dips his head to the assembled 
      gathering by way of introduction. "I've accepted the challenge, but as 
      this is the first time I've ever been in this position, as yet I have no 
      task set. This should be done soon. If anybody has particularly evil 
      ideas, feel free to contact me."
Cutter returns the bone to Sidhefuil, drops back to four-leg form and trots
      back to his place in the crowd.
Perking his head up curiously, gazing upon Sidhefuil, Asteryx crosses his arms,
      obviously reacting to the word "Severs". Sighing and turning his eyes 
      upon Severs, he narrows them, looking him up and down and then looking 
      back toward his Elder, aware of the friction that had burned between 
      them... Gazing upon the ground at his words, he mutters under his breath 
      again, blowing hot air into his hands to warm them up...
Something about the request brings a slight smile to Jarred's face.
Olga quietly puts her hands together in a overly, one might say sarcastically,
      civilized clap, grinning widely at Sidhefuil as she makes her 
      announcement. Her attention then shifts to Jamethon, peering at him 
      curiously up near the waterfall.
Craig watches Blotches return, no particular judgement in his face. He makes
      sure there's room for her to sit again, then silently offers her a candy 
      retrieved from his pocket.
Megan glances between Severs and Fights-for-Hope, shifting restlessly from foot
      to foot under the fullness of the moon.
Blotches sits, shifting down to her birth form of homid. A shake of her head,
      and an attempt at quietly saying, "No thank you," to the offering of 
      candy. Instead, she simply watches over the proceedings.
Signe's bad night seems to get worse. Her eyes darken further, her tense body
      movements showing even more tension. Now her hands clench and then 
      stretch in idle need to be doing something. Her gaze slips towards Fights 
      For Hope and then to Cutter, and back again before she turns her 
      attention back to the moot.
By the waterfall, Fights-For-Hope stands, looking at Cutter with dignity
      written all over him as the challenge is strangly announced by one other 
      than the challenger. ~I will take on any fair terms, and succeed in 
      reaching Cutter's rank.~ He nods once and then is quiet, gazing at the 
      others.
Konstantin snorts faintly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. There's another glance at
      his watch as his weight transfers from leg to leg.
Craig nods quietly, then pops the candy into his own mouth. He scratches at his
      face again as he watches the exchange between Shadow Lord and Get of 
      Fenris.
Three-Blades nudges Julie with her nose, a gesture of sympathy meant behind it.
      Distractedly, she watches the challenge announcement but keeps her 
      attentions floating around the caern center.
Joshua stands attentively, the Walker Cub watching the proceedings with
      unmasked interest.
In a rare show of affection, Julie leans to nuzzle into Three's ruff, and
      remain there a time, comforted by an 'old' familiar scent.
Sidhefuil collects the fragments and seeks out two more Garou in the throng.
      Finding Jarred only, she rumbles, ~Another rank challenge comes before 
      the sept this evening: Brings-Buffalo, Cliath Galliard of the Wendigo, to 
      Storm-Singer, Fostern Shadow Lord and Galliard. You may announce your 
      terms when ready.~
Salem's mouth thins into a distasteful little line at this announcement.
Jacinta's eyes dart to Sidhefuil at this announcement. In her stare is a
      curious mix of tensions, positive and negative.
K. C.'s eyebrows lift at that announcement. She doesn't say anything, but she
      listens curiously to the terms.
White Bison merely snorts. Atcen's eyes flicker from the old Uktena to Jacinta,
      then to her Elder and the... Shadow Lord? The metis cub stares at Jarred 
      for a bit, brow furrowed and frowning. Then she drops her gaze and picks 
      at her bony toes.
Jarred moves somewhat out of the shadows in which he's been standing, to
      address the Moot. "The task I have set for Brings-Buffalo is not an easy 
      one, but may prove of benefit not only to Leonard and to myself, but also 
      to the sept at large. Brings-Buffalo must journey into the Velvet Shadow 
      and make contact with an Avatar of Grandfather Thunder. He must persuade 
      the Avatar to tell him the story... the *true* story of how the Shadow 
      Lords came to be mistrusted and despised among the other tribes under 
      Gaia's eye. He must return to present that story at the next Moot. Then 
      and only then will he attain the rank of Fostern in my eyes."
Jarred moves back to stand near Asteryx upon competion.
Reggie, undecided about whether to hoot in approval for Leonard, or maintain a
      dignified though stony silence, starts on the hoot then breaks it off, 
      making it more like a raspberry.
Signe regards Jarred with distaste as well. The Wendigo are ignored, however,
      and it's clear it's not the challenge that irritated the Get this time. 
      She lifts a hand to scratch an itch at the back of her neck before 
      shifting her weight restlessly.
White Bison closes her eyes and laughs quietly at the challenge terms, causing
      the Metis cub at her side to look at her confusedly.
Megan bares her teeth at the terms, but makes no noise of either approval or
      disapproval.
Asteryx's eyes widened as his Elder spoke of the Great Grandfather in the
      stormy skies, the watcher of slow, rumbling thunder. Cocking his head at 
      Jarred as he came to stand with him, he turns his eyes back upon him, 
      admiration obvious in them. These were odd terms... But perhaps it would 
      be good to understand why... Why we are mistrusted and despised, simply 
      because we are able to see foolishness in what other Garou call strength.
Sheeaghan sneers lightly towards the Wendigo but remains quiet and shifts her
      weight.
Chance sneezes loudly.
Craig coughs, eyebrows rising a bit at the terms of the challenge.
Julie straightens after a bit, peering wide-eyed at the challenge's terms, then
      slips her gaze toward Signe a moment.
Salem seems, like the old Uktena visitor, to find some kind of humor in the
      challenge, though he retrains it into a sardonic, cynical little smirk.
Jacinta also looks at the Uktena, though with open curiosity rather than
      confusion. Her shoulders adopt the tension from her earlier interest.
Sidhefuil drops her ruddy muzzle in a short nod at the Shadow Lord and his
      terms, before returning the severed bones to the Truthcatcher, and 
      returning to her spot in the crowd between Olga and Cycle-Breaker. The 
      crinos returns to wolf.
White Bison opens her eyes and winks at Jacinta. She's stopped chuckling, but
      still seems to be very much amused.
Jarred again moves out from the shadows to make his way to the center of the
      gathering, his movements precise and deliberate as always. The expression 
      upon his face belies some measure of conflict, though if one were only 
      listening to his voice, not the slightest trace of nervousness or 
      consternation would be discernable. He takes the bone shards and turns to 
      regard the Alpha, nodding politely to her as protocol dictates, then his 
      dark eyes return to the gathering and he speaks. "Some days ago, I spoke 
      to a cub not far from this place on the bawn. I advised that cub in 
      matters pertaining to his preparation for a Rite of Passage. I further 
      instructed the cub to relay a message to Jack Salem, the substance of 
      which engendered in him no small amount of anger. It is and has been my 
      belief that Salem deserved castigation and contempt for deserting his 
      Tribe for a lesser one and his auspice for the Judge's title he now 
      bears. Salem issued a challenge before witnesses, denouncing me as a liar 
      and a coward; a charge I in turn denounced as false. To decide the 
      outcome of this challenge, I have tasked Salem with standing before our 
      entire sept at Moot and explaining to my satisfaction and the 
      satisfaction of others the exact circumstances that led to his departure 
      from the ranks of the Shadow Lords and the tossing away of his born 
      Auspice. If he so explains, I will issue a formal apology for my actions, 
      thoughts and words to all those gathered here. That being said, I now 
      invite Salem to come forward and perform the task I have set for him." He 
      gestures to the Glass Walker and backs up to give the man room, crouching 
      down with his hands folded in front of him to hear the story.
Asteryx winced visibly at the use of the term "lesser one
Julie's attention snaps back to the center, her own current plight forgotten
      for the time being.
The Glass Walker Elder's nostrils flare angrily at 'lesser tribe', but as he
      steps up to face the gathering, his expression shifts into something 
      resembling neutrality. Shifting to Glabro form, he spares Jarred a quick 
      grimace before beginning to speak. ~Members, guests, and cubs of the Sept 
      of the Hidden Walk.~ The Glass Walker speaks clearly, his voice carrying. 
      Too bad it's the voice of the Jackal-cursed -- nasal, grating, and 
      pitched too high. The Philodox puts on a good show of pretending not to 
      care how he sounds, and he ignores the flattened ears that are likely to 
      welcome the unlovely tones. ~I am no Galliard, but I will tell the tale, 
      or tales, as best I can.~
By the waterfall, Fights-For-Hope growls low at this announcement, head shaking
      slow and heavily as the Walker elder is 'called out'
Joshua cringes a little at the mention of his errand to his elder, Head bowing,
      trying to shrink out of sight from his standing spot rather 
      unsuccessfully.
Anthony looks over at Josh for a moment, then up at Salem for only a moment
      before looking away.
Craig crunches through the candy in his mouth, suddenly much more attentive to
      the proceedings as Jarred tosses the spotlight squarely at Salem.
Konstantin winces as the Philodox gets cranked into high gear story mode. He
      mimes using some throat spray at the Glass Walker.
Salem clasps his hands behind his back and stands straight and tall, his
      posture unashamed, defiant. Even, under Luna's full gaze, fierce. ~Once 
      upon a very long time ago, there was a young Shadow Lord Ahroun named 
      Rade Andreas Popovic, known to the Garou as Thunder's Wrath. He was the 
      product of a long line of Shadow Lords and Shadow Lord kin, and his 
      breeding was equal to that of many a Silver Fang, and even greater than 
      some. He was the second son of a second son, the nephew of Vladimir 
      Voice-of-the-Storm, and the rising star of the Sept of Black Wings, which 
      was favored by Grandfather Thunder himself and allowed only Grandfather's 
      brood within its ranks. He rose quickly to Fostern rank, was pack Beta 
      under the Sept's Master of the Challenge and survived the horrors of the 
      Scar Realm. His ferocity in battle was admired, his bravery unquestioned, 
      and if there was anything to be said against him at all, it was that he 
      was not particularly _subtle_.~ The once-Shadow Lord smiles humorlessly, 
      baring a flash of elongated teeth. ~But this failing was excused, because 
      he was, in all other things, a damned good Ahroun.~
Julie can only grin in sympathy, even as her shoulders hunch up in reaction to
      the sound of Salem's voice.
Megan bares her teeth again, her arms crossing over her chest in annoyance.
      But, she listens attentively, even if there's a scowl semi-permanently 
      affixed to her expression.
K. C.'s eyes narrow as she considers Jarred. Lesser tribe. So that's how it is,
      eh? If the sound of Salem's voice bothers her, she long since learned to 
      mask the flinch.
The young galliard shakes his head confusedly. There was so much he doesn't
      understand... so much that was so confusing...
Olga watches Jarred closely, eyes screwed up and searching, and she drops
      herself against the her bag to settle in for a long story, glancing once 
      at Joshua before she does.
~Thunder's Wrath had many rivals, of course,~ Salem continues, letting his gaze
      travel from one face to the next. ~Chief among these was a Philodox named 
      Anya, called Beautiful-Night. She was a cub when he was, Rited when he 
      was, and for a long time the competition between them was... bitter. In 
      time, Thunder's Wrath became the victor in their struggle for dominance, 
      and as the years passed, his mind turned more toward the battlefield than 
      his cubhood opponent, and Anya too seemed to put their conflict behind 
      her to focus on her role as Judge and Guardian.~
Jarred's comments garner the first sign of emotion from Leala all evening. She
      briefly gives him a hard look, but her attention turns back to Salem's 
      story.
Salem's expression turns grim. ~Then, in 1995, the Sept of Black Wings was
      attacked by several packs of the most vile of Wyrm-tainted vampires. 
      Known as the Sabbat, these leeches fought as Garou do, in packs, each one 
      loyal to the other. Co-ordinated. Fierce. Armed with silver. The Veil 
      meant nothing to them, but their violence was masked under the _human_ 
      conflict that raged through that part of the world at that time.~ He 
      inhales a breath, letting this sink in. ~The kinfolk were the first to 
      die, drained of blood, fed vampiric bile... and then buried alive in mass 
      graves. Those that emerged were not kin anymore, not even _themselves_. 
      They were blood-hungry, ravening beasts, and the Sabbat used them as 
      cannon-fodder against the Sept. After the first few battles, it became 
      clear that the Sept was in danger of being destroyed.~
Salem pauses for a moment, looking upward toward the full moon. When he turns
      back to the gathering and speaks again, the words come more slowly, more 
      deliberately. ~The Sept of Black Wings needed much to win this apparantly 
      hopeless war, but mostly it needed information. About weaknesses, 
      plans... ways to understand _exactly_ what they were facing, so to know 
      how to defeat it. Thunder's Wrath took it upon himself to get that 
      information, to act as a spy upon the enemy. He told only his pack alpha, 
      who consented to the plan... Gaia alone knows why.~ The Walker's mouth 
      twists into a grimace. ~Thunder's Wrath knew there was danger involved, 
      but he underestimated the enemy... and he _over_estimated his own 
      abilities.~
Megan rips a snort at these words.
Flattened ears indeed. Sidhefuil looks on as Salem begins to speak, ears
      jerking back, lying closer to her skull with every syllable. She tries to 
      hear past this, to the Walker's story.
Salem takes in a breath, and then his cracked, grating voice whips out at his
      listeners, no less venomous for the fact that its bile is directed at 
      himself -- or, rather, the self he once was. ~He was a _fool_. An 
      arrogant, overconfident _idiot_ who'd never known serious defeat and thus 
      thought himself invincible. Untouchable.~ Grimly, he shakes his head. 
      ~The Sabbat saw through his guile with embarrassing ease, and he was 
      their... _guest_... for the months of war that followed.~ A beat. ~The 
      Sabbat were both inventive and cruel, and Thunder's Wrath paid quite 
      dearly for his foolishness.~
The Glass Walker Elder pauses. To let this sink in, perhaps. To let his
      audience imagine the ways in which a bunch of Wyrm-tainted vampires can 
      be "inventive." Or maybe simply to shake off his own too-vivid memories 
      of that time. ~The Sept of Black Wings won the war, though it cost them 
      the lives of many, kin and Garou alike. Thunder's Wrath's pack was among 
      the casualties... in fact, when the last of the Sabbat were killed and 
      Thunder's Wrath's half-alive carcass dragged back to the Bawn, only a 
      handful of the Sept were left. One of those was Anya... who was, as it 
      happened, now the Sept's _only_ ranked Philodox, the only other halfmoon 
      being a cub of no breeding or standing.~ He inhales a breath, lets it 
      out. ~Thus, when Thunder's Wrath was cleansed and healed, it fell to Anya 
      to stand in Judgement at his trial.~
Asteryx mutters quietly, shifting from one leg to the other.
Craig bares his teeth and growls, despite his human form.
~The Shadow Lords,~ says Salem, almost blandly, ~are not forgiving of weakness
      or failure. And _no_ one alive knew of Thunder's Wrath's true intentions. 
      It was up to Anya to find out this truth... but when Thunder's Wrath told 
      his tale, she declared him a liar and a traitor.~ He grimaces deeply. 
      ~The Sept called for his blood, but Anya, I suspect, thought that a death 
      sentence would be too quick, too easy. Instead, she had the Rite of the 
      Lone Wolf performed, and he was stripped of his rank, his tribe, even his 
      _name_. Rade Thunder's Wrath died... in everything but fact.~
Salem pauses a moment before continuing, his expression a flat mask. When he
      continues, his voice is quieter, though it's still quite audible. ~I was 
      Ronin for two years before my path took me to St. Claire. Two years 
      without family, without companions, without Gaia, without future. Even 
      Silent Striders have their tribe and their totem to depend upon. A Ronin 
      has _nothing_, and after two years, I was sick of it. So, when a Black 
      Fury named Morgan told me to join a tribe or get out of town, I chose to 
      stay. I did not, however, choose to petition my former tribe. To be 
      perfectly frank, it never occurred to me to do so, and in any case I had 
      become accustomed to the rhythms of the city.~ He's unapologetic. ~So, I 
      went to JJ Malone, Elder of the Glass Walkers, and was accepted into that 
      tribe once I'd proved my worth.~
Jacinta listens to the tale with rapt attention, though the cursed voice causes
      her to grimace frequently.
Salem pauses a beat. ~That is how a Shadow Lord becomes a Ronin, and a Ronin a
      Glass Walker. My Renunciation to Philodox is a less straightforward 
      tale.~ His gaze seeks out Jarred, and he stares directly at the Shadow 
      Lord for a moment. ~But I will be as _complete_ and _honest_ about that 
      as about the former... inasmuch as I can be.~
Salem turns his mismatched eyes back to the Sept. ~Some of you have witnessed
      my temper.~ His gaze picks out a few faces; his smile is thin and 
      humorless. ~Few of you knew me when I was an Ahroun, however, when I was 
      a much angrier and much more violent person. When I was called Diablo, 
      the Demon.~ His eyes narrow. ~Some Garou Renounce their auspice because 
      they're no good at the role they were born to. I Renounced mine because I 
      was _too_ good at it.~ Broad Glabro shoulders lift and fall. ~No such 
      thing, perhaps... but one summer in Las Vegas, I helped Glass Walkers 
      fight Bone Gnawers for control of the city. As all conflicts within the 
      Garou Nation, it was bitter and bloody... exceedingly bloody, in fact, to 
      a point where even I became sickened by the excesses shown by those who 
      called themselves my tribesmates.~
Signe stands still, watching the Walker elder with a fierce, uncompromising
      gaze. Again, her restless hands tighten to a fist and then stretch out, 
      itching for something to do.
Julie gazes steadily at Salem, even manages to smile a bit, rather genuinely.
Severs twitches an ear.
Megan's scowl, if possible, deepens even further when Salem's tale shifts to
      the Renunciation of his auspice.
~I'd glutted myself on bloodshed during the Vegas war,~ Salem says with grim
      candor, ~and afterwards, I stood back and looked at my past and looked at 
      the road I was heading down, the place I was heading towards. There was 
      nothing there but Rage, nothing but claws and violence and death. ...And 
      it was not a place I wanted to find myself in.~
Asteryx rolls his eyes and kicks the ground quietly with his boot, flicking his
      gaze between Salem and Jarred.
Megan, once again, snorts in reaction.
Konstantin keeps glancing at his watch and rubbing his forefinger against his
      thumb. World's smallest violin, perhaps. Or maybe he's just fascinated 
      with his fingers.
The Walker Elder takes a deep breath. ~Even so, choosing to Renounce was not a
      decision I made lightly. I left Vegas in late summer. It was winter 
      before the idea of Renouncing was even presented to me. And it was spring 
      before I finally chose to undergo the Rite of Renunciation. My choice of 
      Philodox was deliberate. No other path but that of Judge was what I 
      needed to move away from the path of the Demon.~
By the waterfall, The Gatekeeper growls lowly at the mentioning first of Las
      Vegas, his growl increasing in volume when hearing of conflict between 
      Garou and Garou.
The Glass Walker seems to be coming to a conclusion. ~I don't claim that it's
      been easy, changing the habits of a lifetime. But whether I am a true 
      Philodox, as my accomplishments, including my successful Challenge to 
      Tempered-Blade of the Fianna, indicate... or whether, as Storm-Singer has 
      accused, I am wearing a facade,~ -- he glowers briefly at Jarred -- ~I do 
      not intend to return to the full moon. Even if it were possible.~ He's 
      been speaking at length now, and his cursed voice is starting to crack 
      quite badly, worse than normal, but he continues to the end, relentless. 
      ~I am Jack Salem, called Scar, Fostern Philodox of Those Who Walk Among 
      Glass, and facade or no, this is not a role I will relinquish.~
Three-Blades looks, to use a euphemism, uncomfortable. Salem's tale of
      Thunder's Wrath and renouncing makes her mind burn in painful memory, and 
      the scar branded on her shoulder tingle from it. As a result, the Gnawer 
      ragabash turns a tight circle and retreats a bit further from the 
      gathered, ears turned flat.
Salem, apparently finished, turns back to Jarred and glares at the Shadow Lord
      coldly. Expectantly.
Julie reaches to soothe Three with touch, not daring speak, for fear her own
      jackalled voice would bring unwanted attention.
A long minute passes as the Shadow Lord Elder regards Salem with a level gaze,
      his onyx yes burning with intensity as he privately determines the 
      veracity of the story and its implications. Then another minute. Then 
      another. At length, Jarred stands and begins speaking slowly and evenly, 
      his voice raised enough for everyone to hear. "Salem, I make no apologies 
      for the ways of the Shadow Lords. Weakness should be despised. 
      Foolishness should be punished. Arrogance...." He hesitates here with the 
      slightest smirk, carefully considering his words. "...should be 
      *justified*. However, I hear now and believe the story you have told us. 
      And I admit that I was hasty in believing that you chose the fate you now 
      play out. I was also wrong to use a cub to relay a message better given 
      to your face where it could be... dealt with." He turns to the sept. 
      "Before all of you now, I admit an error in judgement and issue a formal 
      apology to Salem for that error." He turns to the Judge. "Jack Salem, 
      Fostern Philodox of the Glass Walkers, per the terms of our agreement, I 
      now bare throat to you before the Sept of the Hidden Walk, and ask your 
      pardon for my wrongdoing."
Craig rubs his hands over his face, eyes seeking out Olga, then turning to
      Julie and Three-Blades to catch their reactions to the tale. He crunches 
      through another candy, trying to absorb this unexpected story.
Asteryx obviously has a lot to say by the look on his face and by the slight
      anger burning in his eyes, but he holds his silence and turns his eyes up 
      toward the skies...
Signe's nostrils flair at the way Salem finishes his tale. She, too, looks at
      the Shadow Lord, dark eyes narrowing with curiosity at what he'll think 
      of this gut-spilling story.
Jarred tilts his head back, exposing his throat to the Glass Walker.
It was obvious that it took a little while for the words to sink in on
      Asteryx... But when they did, he looks shocked, stepping forward 
      slightly, not very noticably, his eyes wide in disbelief. He mouths 
      quietly... "Jarred..."
Megan growls low in her throat in response, but even then there's an expression
      of disbelief and grudging approval at the ending of the challenge.
Joshua looks up from his shamed posture to look at Jarred. Something short of a
      glare as he visualizes the Shadow Lord's throat in a more apt position... 
      like in clenched fist.
Leala, looks on tense, awaiting her Elder's response.
Julie is rather surprised, not at the admission, but at the throat bearing. She
      could almost see Salem ripping that throat out easily enough. With a 
      tucked chin, she watches, waiting for Salem's response.
K. C. folds her arms across her chest, waiting expectantly with the rest of the
      sept.
Olga leans against her bag, low against the ground, watching the two Fostern
      blankly, giving a faint smirk at one point in Jarred's reply.
Salem's eyes narrow slightly at Jarred's phrasing. The Glass Walker steps
      forward to take Jarred's throat in his hand, loosely, and grates out, 
      ~Pardon given. Apology -- and submission -- accepted, Storm-Singer.~ 
      Releasing the Shadow Lord, he stalks back to join his tribemates.
Jarred turns to nod once more at the Alpha, then turns and walks back to his
      former position stiffly. The apology, it seems, maybe have taken a 
      greater toll than it seemed to others.
Julie's release of held breath is audible to her nearby tribemates.
Three-Blades finds an empty spot further back, sitting tensely and trying to
      maintain the quiet that shadows over her in a tight aura. Her ears 
      haven't risen since the beginning of the story, and they don't look to be 
      going anywhere. Her tail, in contrast, lashes twice and then lays still.
Sidhefuil just issues a strange little grunt, her thoughts on either Garou, or
      the results, unclear.
Staring at the Shadow Lord elder silently, Asteryx's eyes burn with confusion
      and rage. Turning his eyes once more to the skies, he closes his eyes and 
      sighs quietly...
Signe watches the end of the challenge. She looks somewhat disappointed, but
      certainly not at the sight of the Shadow Lord's submission. That, at 
      least, garner's a decidedly satisfied smirk.
K. C. steps over to meet Salem as he returns and she lowers her voice to murmur
      a comment to him, nodding a little as she does so.
K. C. whispers "You did that a hell of a lot more gracefully than I would have.
      And we're glad to have you. Screw the Shadow Lords."
Konstantin smirks again, watching Jarred with a detached amusement.
Severs twitches an ear.
Joshua returns his head bowed stance, waiting for the topic to change to...
      well, anything else.
Craig watches just long enough to see there's no blood being spilled, then
      turns to give Three-Blades a curious glance. He scoots backwards a few 
      feet, getting closer to the other Ragabash, and divides his attention 
      between her and the Moot.
Jarred glaces over to Asteryx, but doesn't not acknowledge the younger
      galliard's confusion, or rage. Yet.
Salem cocks his head at K. C.'s whisper and gives the other Walker halfmoon a
      slight, quirked smile that's a little... edged, due to the full moon and 
      his recent public baring of soul and dirty laundry.
Megan returns Jarred's glance stonily, radiating undirected ire all around. But
      then at another look from Taslyn, she moves forward to take the bones 
      once more. This time, she sighs. ~Now comes the long-winded Fianna part 
      of the moot, the part where the Sept Alpha gets up and speaks. Which will 
      hopefully get shorter in the future, as this is my first. But I have a 
      number of things I need to make clear to the Sept, and doing it 
      first-hand is the best way.~
Dane says nothing, merely considering the tale told.
Jacinta's wandering gaze shifts to the Alpha where it rests steadily while she
      speaks. Full attention is paid as her expression turns stony, unreadable.
By the waterfall, Fights-For-Hope finally steps forward at the Alpha prepares
      to speak, moving around to stand at Signe's side, nudging her lightly as 
      sits once more and turns to pay attention.
Sidhefuil's nose wrinkles, and she ducks her head against a foreleg to rub at
      it, freeing herself of an itch. After, she lifts her eyes to watch the 
      Alpha.
~First, and most importantly,~ Megan continues, ~the Gatekeeper has confirmed
      what my own nose has told me, which is that Peacekeeper-rhya's scent has 
      not been freshened for some time. It has been weak since my return, and 
      now is virtually gone. I have heard no one has seen him since last 
      summer, including those who should be looking to him. And so it is I am 
      saying now: we need a new Warder. If more than one comes forward wishing 
      the position, there will be a Challenge,~ and here, she looks over to 
      Layne and nods, ~which I will help organize with the Master of the 
      Challenge, to decide who gets the position. But, remember, for those of 
      you interested, although there is power in this position to lead the 
      Gatekeeper, Groundskeeper, Master of the Rite, Master of the Challenge, 
      and the Guardians, and renown to be gained for protecting the Caern, that 
      the Warder must remain on the Bawn always. So consider that, before 
      deciding to step forward. But,~ she stresses, ~someone must. We *need* a 
      Warder.~
White Bison clucks her tongue and shakes her head in a disappointed kind of way.
Signe glances around, staring at Jamethon after he nudges her. Megan's
      announcement makes the Get Jarl look around at the gathered Sept, 
      critically.
Dane nods as he listens.
Julie frowns slightly in thought, then slowly looks back at Three-Blades, head
      cocked, almost as if considering.
Fights-For-Hope looks unsurprised, expecting this news and at first glances
      around to the gathered Garou, the fosterns before others, the few there 
      are left. After a moment of this passes he looks back to a few particular 
      people, though quickly enough to be undeterminable as to whom he may have 
      been looking.
Three-Blades doesn't meet eyes with Craig nor Julie, but Megan's announcement
      of the lack of a Warder amongst other positions seems to push her selfish 
      thoughts back for a moment.
Salem wrinkles his nose, uttering a low snort. He folds his arms across his
      chest.
Sheeaghan walks around towards Jamethon and Signe. The pale wolf quietly bumps
      her nose against the Gatekeeper's leg, although her eyes look up towards 
      the other Fenrir.
Sidhefuil straightens some at this, and turns eyes carefully out toward the
      others, waiting for someone to step forward.
Well, that rules K. C. out. She glances around the caern like everyone else,
      though.
Severs twitches an ear.
Olga's eyes wander absently over the Sept, lingering nowhere, and then she
      passes her eyes up towards the sky, vacantly contemplating the stars.
Anthony looks pensive, bringing a hand off his knee and rubbing his chin.
Craig's eyes also skip from person to person, singling out nobody in particular.
Emma is, just a cub. Nice stars hmm?
Dane looks around thoughtfully, then back toward the Alpha, and takes several
      steps toward her.
Jacinta watches the assembled Garou, tentative hope building behind her gaze.
Julie pssts Three's direction, a smile, and jerk of head back toward Megan if
      Yi looks at the Galliard.
Faces-Rage remains silent, unable to make any claims. However, as her tribe
      mate steps forth, and the crinos-formed cub regards him curiously.
Craig catches Julie's intent, then follows her gaze to Yi, nodding furiously.
Fights-For-Hope looks down at Shee, a dominant but friendly posturing as he
      nods lupine head once. The Gatekeeper stiffens at the silence and 
      releases a growling call, ~Come, someone has the balls to take on this 
      needed resposiblity!~
Three-Blades misses the look, but with a flickering of her ears, she gets up
      from her spot and strides forward. She makes her way slowly towards the 
      Sept Alpha, pausing just a moment to see the others who step forward.
Salem wrinkles his nose as Yi steps forward, his gaze turning cold. He looks
      away from her.
Julie grins like a banshee as Three gets up, then, following the Raggie's path,
      catches sight of Dane also advancing. This should be interesting.
White Bison hrmphs, then pokes Jacinta.
Atcen chews on a fingernail.
Signe stares at her own Tribemate after he makes the call. she reaches out and
      grabs him by the scruff of the neck and shoves him forward.
Anthony watches the two advance, and quits his chin-rubbing, going back to
      stoically crouching and looking at nothing in particular.
Jacinta looks appologeticly at White Bison. "I have not yet given chiminage. It
      is not my place to offer, yet."
The old Uktena Theurge hrmphs again, then turns sharp brown eyes onto Yi and
      Dane. She mutters something about babes in diapers.
Fights-For-Hope turns as he is launched forward and growls harshly to Signe, ~I
      cannot!~ He roars in her face, ~I have duties I have sworn to uphold as 
      Gatekeeper that are words I promised to Chimera herself. Unless...~ He 
      trails off and looks around the Caern once more.
Olga passes a curious look at Dane as he steps forward, and then an even more
      curious one at Four-Leaves, looking them both over. She settles into her 
      bag and watches.
Jacinta's face grows red, embarrasment darkening already dark skin.
"You do it, you ol' bat," Konstantin retorts, studying White Bison. "Old
      bat-rhya," he adds, after a moment's reflection.
Signe answers Fights for Hope growl for growl though she wears her human form,
      "You can uphold your promises to Chimera as Warder just as mush as you 
      would as Gatekeeper! Someone else can serve that role."
Megan levels a Look at Jamethon. ~The duties of a Warder is *also* to this
      Caern, Theurge,~ she reminds him flatly, ~More so than Gatekeeper, 
      actually.~
Defends-Worth stands back and looks at the conversation between Signe and
      Fights... A bit of an amused look on her face.
"Hush, brat," White Bison says to Konstantin, pertly. "You're not too old to be
      spanked."
Atcen stares at Kon, then at White Bison. She stifles a snicker behind her
      hands.
Craig watches the two Get bitch at each other, scratching again at his stubbly
      chin.
Three-Blades turns and looks at the crowd, her mid-sized lupine form hardly
      anything worth such a lofty position of Warder. But she swells to crinos 
      not in compensation, but to bring herself up to a relative eye-level of 
      the others. She gazes around, annoyance writing itself on her features.
Fights-For-Hope continues to look over the gathered for a time, ~I'm thinking,
      I'm thinking... damned crones.~ He growls then with a huff turns, almost 
      rushing heads up to stand with those vying for the position. ~We better 
      find someone suitable for Gatekeeper... or I'm taking it out of your 
      hides when I'm Warder.~ He seems suddenly grumpy, not quite desiring 
      being where he is... but with the continued huffing it appears he 
      attempts to try not thinking about just where he is.
Joshua stands idly, not even knowing what a warder is. Sounds boring.
Jarred steps forward slightly and looks significantly at the two other
      challengers as if guaging their worth. With a grimace, he steps to to 
      where they stand and speaks. "Megan-Rhya. I offer my services as Warder 
      of the Hidden Walk."
Konstantin chuckles at White Bison, just lifting his chin toward her in respect.
Julie mutters, even if her squeaky voice cuts through the air, "Perty bad when
      a couple o' kids hafta step up t' get the older ones t' move." She 
      glances at Craig, and just shakes her head.
Signe seems satisfied when James finally comes forward. Naturally, it lasts
      about three seconds, which is just long enough for Jarred to make his own 
      announcement. Suddenly the Jarl is back in a decidedly irritable mood.
White Bison arches white eyebrows, then smiles at Kon in an angelic granny kind
      of way. The kind of granny that cut the Big Bad Wolf open and sewed 
      stones into his belly.
Fights-For-Hope looks to Jarred as he steps up, and his teeth are bared now, he
      growls to Megan. ~I too, the Gatekeeper of the Hidden Walk, would be 
      honored to now be its Warder.~
Craig shrugs a shoulder. "S'almost like they're scared," he replies. But not
      too loud.
Olga makes a little cracked grin as four now stand in the centre. "I say we all
      jus' step forward and let Megan 'nd Layne sort it out," she suggests 
      mildly to those around her.
Sidhefuil's sense of duty seems to override her amusement as Jamethon and
      Jarred both quickly try and claim the position, wondering if things will 
      end here, tonight, or if a challenge will be necessary. She watches 
      closely.
Megan's eyes narrow again as Jarred steps forward, but then sweeps her gaze
      over the four who have stepped forward, and gives Layne a glance. She 
      then looks back to everyone. ~I would like to also allow those not here 
      to have a chance to challenge for the position as well. But we will 
      decide it very soon. Until that time...as Fostern,~ and now the words 
      seem dragged out of her, ~Storm-Singer would have the position. And, 
      until that time,~ and here she looks at the three cliaths, ~I would 
      advise you also restrict yourselves to the Bawn. As a test of your 
      dedciation.~
Dane nods.
~Come on,~ Three-Blades growls out loudly, hackles shifting upwards as
      annoyance is tinged with indignance. She glances at Dane, Jamethon and 
      Jarred who've stepped up. ~This is what the Hidden Walk has come to?~ An 
      ear flips forward, her expression flittering briefly as if she'd not 
      meant to so bluntly make insult.
Sidhefuil rises to all fours as the Alpha speaks her name, listening closely.
      She barks her agreement with the temporary arrangement.
Severs eyes Three Blades. And twitches an ear.
Signe's irritation deepens to outright fury. She glares after the Shadow Lord,
      jaw clneched. As much as possible under the fat moon and edy company, the 
      Get subdues the reaction to Megan's announcement. Still, it's clear she's 
      unhappy.
Salem purses his lips, his manner turning calculating for a moment. He
      scratches his clean-shaven chin absently. Though his expression tightens 
      at Yi's outburst, he refuses to even look at her.
Fights-For-Hope nods to this answer from the Alpha and to the Master of the
      Challenge's agreement. It is not till he speaks that his rage is evident, 
      a snarling raspy growl, ~Very well, I will of course continue to serve as 
      Gatekeeper till I am needed as the Walk's Warder.~
With that the Gatekeeper returns to Signe's side, eyeing her darkly as he does.
Megan takes a deep breath, and launches into her next point. ~I see my duties
      as Alpha as a reflection of my auspice: I'm a mediator and a facilitator. 
      As long as the Ways are being followed, elders and tribe alphas are free 
      to do their own thing with regards to their own territory. However, 
      because I am Sept Alpha, there are two things I do hold to be
      important: ultimately, everything in the Protectorate is my
      responsibility, and I therefore consider it everything to be my 
      territory. I will intervene or interfere if I feel it is necessary. Also, 
      since I am responsible, ultimately, for everything touching on the Sept 
      and its life, I would like to be kept in the loop about anything going 
      on. Use the Galliards. That is the role Gaia gave for them, in our 
      society. Galliards, I expect you to *do* that role. if you are not 
      passing information around to others and to me, I will consider that as a 
      failure in your role to Gaia and the Sept.~ Her gaze picks out the 
      Galliards here, and takes a breath, as if to go on.
Atcen looks up at mention of Galliards, then down again. Thoughtfully, the
      metis cub chews her lower lip.
Julie nods faintly to these words, having heard pretty much the same thing
      earlier, and agreeing.
Reggie looks around for a Galliard, finds Leonard, moves through the crowd to
      him, and starts whispering to him, then stops in case he misses any more 
      announcements about missing people.
Three-Blades shakes herself and then melts back down to the lupus form. She
      wasn't pleased by the pronouncement of Warder, but something else 
      evidently rubs her fur the wrong way even more. The ragabash stalks back 
      to her spot, plants herself down and simmers underneath her skin.
Signe finds Julie through the crowd, her gaze hard and still angry due to the
      circumstances. Eventually she turns back to regard Megan, restlessly.
Julie rubs at the back of her neck, feeling edgy. She glances around, but
      doesn't see what might be making her feel this way.
~One major area of concern,~ Megan continues, ~is with the state of this Sept.
      We are weaker than I have ever known it to be. There are two entire 
      tribes no longer present, and the others that remain, many are much fewer 
      in number. Because of that, I am concerned that there are cubs here who 
      have been cubs for many moons. Found and Firsted since the Fall, or even 
      before. This is too long,~ she says, making a cutting motion with her 
      hand. ~We need fighters for the war, and we no longer have the luxury of 
      coddling them. Teach them the basics: their tribe, their auspice, what we 
      are about, and make them adults. I am tasking all the elders, all the 
      tribes, that if you have a cub who has been known and Firsted since 
      before the last moot, that they be put on their Rite of Passage, pass or 
      fail, by the next one.~ She glares angrily around. ~I *will* allow 
      exceptions. But only if you convince me there should be for a particular 
      cub.~ Her tone indicates that may be difficult.
Whispers shows signs of unease, for any who might be inclined to look his way
      at this moment.
Emma blinks a little at this, giving a slight huff at this news.
Faces-Rage gives Whispers a light bump with her elbow and passes a reassuring
      glance at him, but remains quiet.
Julie sighs, gaze and smile a bit nostalgic.
Alicia crosses her arms over her chest as she listens, standing next to her own
      two cubs, glancing at them for a moment.
K. C. glances at Salem, beyond him at Joshua, and to the Alpha. Good for her.
Joshua doesn't even bat a brow, considering he's already been given his own
      ultimatum.
Craig has disconnected.
Jacinta glances down at Atcen, at first with concern, but that transforms to a
      reassuring smile before she returns her gaze tot he Alpha.
Salem leans over to mutter something to K. C.
You whisper "Got to work on that Katrine girl next." to K. C..
Signe's mood keeps getting darker, it would seem. she glances at Emma, but her
      visage expresses nothing but confidence in the cub.
Sidhefuil cocks her head at Firewatcher, quietly wondering how many Garou are
      left, here, who know the ritual for this.
Atcen chews on her lower lip some more and glances back at Jacinta. Then she
      jerks her chin out, as if to say she's ready for anything.
Whispers returns a gaze to Dakota and rumbles lowly to his Tribemates.
Megan goes on without waiting, continuing to retain the bones. ~Lastly, also
      regarding cubs, I want to remind everyone of two things. First, 
      Sings-to-Spirits and Defends-Worth are acting as caretakers at the 
      Farmhouse, which is there as an *aid* to the tribes to help with their 
      cubs, not as surrogate parents. If a cub has been claimed by a tribe, it 
      is still that tribes' responsibility to teach. It also is not an open 
      invitation for any tribe,~ and here, she looks through those gathered to 
      meet the gaze of almost all individually, ~to teach them. If you wish to 
      teach another tribes' cubs, you must *first* ask the elder of the cubs' 
      tribe. That means any elder who disagrees that your teaching her tribe's 
      cubs and you haven't asked them first, may wallop you within an inch or 
      your life, and with my blessing. Secondly, if you see cubs fighting--let 
      them. Unless you know their elders don't wish it. We're a hard people. We 
      fight. It's who we are. And settling dominance through physical means is 
      our way. I will be equally pissed off at anyone who interferes short of 
      preventing them from actually killing one another.~ And with that, she 
      returns the bones to Taslyn, and stalks back to her place.
Defends-Worth looks down at the bones and then to the rest. ~If there are those
      that are new to the sept, please step forward and introduce yourselves.~ 
      As she offers the bone to anyone who would need to take it to speak.
Signe's gaze follows Megan back to her place, the Get's chin lifted in approval
      at this last announcement.
Atcen perks up at Megan's words, then looks around for Emma. If she sees the
      Get cub, the young Wendigo bares her teeth aggressively.
Defends-Worth cannot help but catch Signe's gaze as she looks around, she bows
      her head to the Get.
Emma had been looking at the other cubs in attendance, and happens to catch
      that lovely snarl from the metis cub. Her eyes narrow and harden, 
      confidence in her gaze as she stares back with an almost aloof look. 
      Quite simply portraying: Come get some.
Olga stews on everything Megan's said for a while, leaning forward and chewing
      her lip. She looks up at the Fianna as she gives the bone back to Taslyn, 
      and then turns her eyes away.
The younger Shadow Lord Galliard moves forward, uncertainty mixed with the cold
      confidence of a Shadow Lord.. and interesting amalgam. He looks at the 
      gathered garou as he takes the bones from Defends-Worth. "Honor to you, 
      Sept of the Hidden Walk. My name is Asteryx 
      "Dances-o'er-the-Lying-Heart", dancer 'neath the gibbous moon and servant 
      of Grandfather Thunder. I come from the Sept of the Falling Shores in 
      Maine in hopes that you will accept me in the war for Gaia." With that, 
      he hands the bones back to the Truth catcher and returns to his place.
Joshua is incredibly nervous, overly aware of all the Garou in the Caern. He
      takes the bones after Asteryx. ~I am The one who Keeps the Human Mind 
      with the Heart of the Wolf.~ He recites timidly, stumbling over the words 
      of his name. ~I, uh, am Cub of those who Walk on Glass. A Full moon.~ He 
      hands the bones back before returning to his spot behind Salem quickly.
Sidhefuil shifts focus to the introductions with mild interest. A long
      wolf-yawn shows how ready she is to call it a day, though.
Reggie takes the bone and faces the Sept. "Our Warder served us well for a long
      time. Now he's vanished, with no word, with no explanation. While we need 
      someone to serve in his position, we should find what happened. There's a 
      mystery here, one that may threaten the very existance of this caern." He 
      hands back the bones.
White Bison gets to her feet, interrupting Atcen's display of cubly dominance
      with a light bop on the top of the head. The skinny metis winces, then 
      obediently gets up and follows the older and shorter Uktena up. White 
      Bison takes the bones and, clearing her throat, addresses the Sept. ~I am 
      White Bison of the Uktena, Theurge of my people and older than any of 
      you.~ She sniffs. ~I'm here as a courier, bringing this cub here to be 
      trained and Rited and then to serve among you. Her father, worthless 
      scum, is long gone. Her mother, though charach, bore punishment and 
      raised her without complaint, then died in battle against her Sept's 
      enemies. The Sept I come from will not have her, so I have brought her 
      here. Brings the Buffalo Home has allowed her to stay, and Pierces the 
      Ice is her teacher.~ Then she nudges Atcen.
Defends-Worth gives a deep bow to White Bison in respect as she takes the bones.
Wading through the sea of Garou, a gruff looking female steps forward, taking
      the bones from Defends-Worth with a slow nod of her head. She casts her 
      gaze towards the others, clearing her throat, before speaking proudly 
      with a strong voice. ~I am Artemis Montoya, from the Golden Wyld Sept of 
      the East. Black Fury, Crone, and Cliath to our people. I was a Guardian 
      for that Sept for four years, and now have taken my stay here among your 
      home. Breaks-The-Cycle has gaven me my task for membership among your 
      ranks, and that is to teach seven Garou the Rituals that I have learned 
      in my time as a Garou." She sharply snaps her eyes about, brow raising 
      upwards slowly. "Seek me out if you are interested, and I will be eager 
      to teach, as well as help out in any way I can." With that, she turns and 
      hands them back, nodding her thanks.
Signe is careful to keep her eyes lower than that of the wizened old Uktena.
      Nonetheless, the Get's expression clearly shows distaste again. She bares 
      her teeth at Atcen and then stoically goes back to watching the moot.
Severs pricks his ears up.
Fights-For-Hope looks down as the elder Uktena speaks, listening intently. Then
      looking with dominant posture as the Fury takes her turn to speak.
Atcen looks like she might have a spasm of stage fright, finding herself in
      front of so many eyes at once, then looks over at Jacinta and straightens 
      up. ~I am Atcen of the Wendigo! Metis and Galliard and... and.~ She 
      clearly isn't sure what else to add, so just juts her chin out a bit, 
      hands the bones back and follows the old Uktena Theurge back to sit near 
      Jacinta.
Jacinta walks up to Defends-Worth, takes the bone, and turns to face the
      assemblage. Standing as tall as her four foot ten inch frame will allow, 
      she makes her introduction. ~I am "Jacinta Aketachunak." Wendigo 
      descended of the "Yup'ik" people of "Nunam Iqua". Born under the warrior 
      moon, I have been renamed Pierces Ice, and I have come to aid the Sept of 
      the Hidden Walk at the request of Brings the Buffalo Home. As my 
      chiminage, I offer myself as guardian, teacher, and rite-master when 
      needed. Firewatcher-rhya has asked that I teach two rites to two tribes, 
      one city and one woodland. Already I have begun lessons with "Olga" to 
      teach her to cleans Grandmother's ills.~ That said, she bows her head, 
      and returns the bone, without a glance directly at the Fianna from whom 
      she took them.
Anthony stirs from his intense boot studies, and tentatively approaches, taking
      the bones loosely. "I, uh, I'm, uh, Shakes-the-Earth, uh, and I'm here 
      from the Sept of the Green in New York, and, I'm a Glass Walker and a new 
      moon and that's pretty much it." He coughs embarrassedly, and stages a 
      hasty retreat.
Severs studies Anthony silently, watching his reatreat.
Artemis glances over at Anthony as he ambles back towards the group, flashing
      her teeth quickly in faint annoyance, before studying those about her.
Defends-Worth nods as it seems nobody else is rising to the introductions. She
      nods for a moment and then looks about, ~As I see there are not more to 
      be introduced, I declare this Cracking of the Bone to be at an end.~ She 
      fold her arms around the bones and then nods to Megan and moves to take 
      her seat.
Olga is still mulling over something as the introductions are made, but the
      mention of her name gives her a start, and she looks over at Jacinta, 
      giving a mild wave, and turning back to her thoughts.
Atcen peers around, looking for Emma again, and makes faces at the Get cub.
Signe steps forward as soon as the cracking is over and gestures for Karl,
      Dakota and Joshua to come forward.
The Shirtless and quite burnt Walker cub hesitantly shuffles after Signe,
      trying to pretend like the whole sept wasn't looking in his direction.
Faces-Rage nods once to the Jarl and steps forward from the circle of gathered
      Garou, walking into view of those gathered.
Whispers, Karl in Crinos, puffs up his chest with a deep inhale and steps
      forward, tail twitching a little excitedly.
Signe sets out a small bowl, a piece of chalky graphite, a knife, and a long
      piece of parchment. The oddities are set aside while the ahroun shifts up 
      to glabro to address the Sept. ~Shut up and pay attention!~ she begins, 
      loudly and gruffly. ~To begin the Story part of this moot, I am going to 
      perform the Rite of Wounding. These cubs here, Faces-Rage, a crescent 
      moon of the Children, and Whispers, another crescent Child, and 
      Wolf-Heart, full moon of the Glass Walkers, have all three tasted their 
      first battle with the Enemy. Each of them has earned honor for their 
      deeds in the battle and tonight a Rite of Wounding will be performed on 
      each. Cubs, tell the Sept what you did.~ The Get then stands back and 
      prepares for the Rite while the cubs tell of what they did.
Alicia watches her cubs step forward, smiling slightly in both mixed pride and
      excitement. She crosses her arms once more, chin raising.
Three-Blades snorts once, still angered at something but otherwise silent,
      looks now onto the Get Jarl. Her eyes still follow the moot's happenings.
Leonard eyes his metis cub as Reggie fills him in, nodding occasionally.
Olga looks over at the Cubs and the Rite, this, at least, finally pulling her
      away from her distracted fugue. She watches it all closely.
Salem stalks up behind Joshua to stand next to Signe, arms folded across his
      chest. Much of his stare seems saved for the cub of his tribe.
~Garou and honored guests of the Hidden Walk,~ Begins Dakota Faces-Rage,
      turning her eyes slowly about the gathering to look upon each Garou 
      present. ~I am not a Galliard, nor is either who fought beside me that 
      night, but I we will do our best to tell you the story of our battle.~ 
      The cub pauses, breathing out slowly, the mist forming around her muzzle. 
      ~It was but two nights ago, and the full moon was clouded over, leaving 
      the forest dark and silent. I was leading Whispers and Wolf-Heart on a 
      hunt for deer when Guards-the-Flame and Defiant-Storm approached us. They 
      asked us to follow, and our elders led us to a farmhouse that reeked with 
      the filth of the Enemy, so much that the ground had long since withered 
      and dried. We were charged to clear the taint from the house. I led my 
      companions towards the house, not knowing what we were to face. Our ears 
      and noses lead us towards the side of the house, where doors led into the 
      basement from which poured the foul stench of corruption.~ Here, the 
      Child of Gaia pauses, and turns her eyes to Joshua, gesturing to him to 
      continue the tale.
Julie watches this with mild interest.
Defends-Worth looks to the cubs and listens intently.
As the Theurge cub speaks, Alicia slips up behind the two, staying silent,
      slipping her hands into her pockets. She tilts her head to one side, 
      listening eagerly.
Jacinta watches Signe, almost without blinking.
Joshua tries his best to hold his portion of the story, the scarred, burnt and
      shirtless Glabro cub doing as requested. Almost a little mechanically. 
      ~The pit was dark and dilapidated, stinking of more than just the Wyrm. I 
      was first into the Cellar beneath the tainted place (a note of pride 
      here). It was dark, and filled with refuse from a youth who was locked 
      down there. The Child was corrupted by his keepers, forced to live in his 
      own filth. Faces Rage followed soon after, both of us fighting it in the 
      dark. But it was filled with bile, and the creature drenched both of us, 
      burning into us both. I tore out its throat, us then finishing the beast 
      off: The two of us sent the corrupted beast back to Gaia. We then left 
      the place to finish cleaning the pit of those who infested it.~ He then 
      steps back, glancing at Karl to finish.
Atcen settles down, both at Leonard's look and a poke from White Bison. Rubbing
      her arm, the metis stares at the three cubs with a combination of 
      fascination and envy.
Whispers nods and begins the final stage of the story. ~While Faces-Rage and
      Wolf-Heart were down in the basement, I stayed up at the top of the 
      steps. They were already severely weakened from when Dakota when down 
      them in Hispo, so it would mean that I would have had to shift to get 
      down them, and then shift back up to attack. It was incredibly dark down 
      there, and even if I took the time and left myself open to have done 
      that, then it would have been two to one that I hit either of them 
      instead of the foe when I attacked. When I was sure that they were 
      managing, I decided to go into the house from another way.~
Whispers continues, ~I went back around to the porch and that's when I heard a
      loud crash. The first of many. The crashing was getting louder, closer... 
      like someone descending stairs... I figured whoever they were was either 
      headed down to the basement, or coming outside anyway. Since I wanted 
      some of the action, and couldn't let them get down to the basement, I let 
      them know that they had an unhappy visitor at the door - I barked and 
      scratched at it. Through the window in the door, I saw them coming down - 
      a pair of big, ugly... things, their skin looked like rotting meat. The 
      one at the front carried a pitchfork and was so big he had to duck and 
      come down the stairs sideways. The shorter one behind him, the woman, had 
      many arms and carried a gun.~
Whispers says, ~They were coming for me, and for all I knew the gun was loaded
      with silver, so dashed away from the door, shifting into Crinos so I 
      could be able to make a better attack on them when they came out. By this 
      time, the others had come up from the basement and met me on the porch, 
      and the Fomori had smashed the front door from its hinges. Our Alpha 
      decided we should fall back and regroup, so we bolted around the corner 
      of the house, the meat-man calling after us "Come back here, you 
      bastards! What've you done to my boy?!"~
Whispers relates, ~Wolf-Heart decided he'd rather go straight back out to face
      them, I tried to hold him back - it made sense to wait until they came 
      around the corner and rush them. Faces-Rage snarled for him to stop, but 
      seeing that he wouldn't, she shifted into warform and raced around to 
      start the attack. While this was going on Guards-The-Flame was howling to 
      distract them behind us. The woman shot at her and missed, and by this 
      time both of my allies had left me behind to attack. I raced out on all 
      fours to serve as a distraction, sweeping around in a wide semi-circle to 
      assess the situation. Faces-Rage had been pierced by the man's pitchfork 
      and was wrestling with him for it and Wolf-Heart was slashing and kicking 
      at the woman's limbs on one side, while she rushed to reload the gun with 
      the arms on her other side. I decided she was the greatest threat, so I 
      began a charge at her, still on all fours. Her and the Ahroun continued 
      to battle as I approached, and she managed to fire off a shot at me. The 
      shotgun blast took a chunk out of my shoulder and ripped into my face, 
      but it hardly slowed me any, and I leapt and tackled her. Wolf-Heart 
      managed to snap one of her arms as she fell under me, and once we landed 
      - me on top of her - I started ripping into her, slashing her face and 
      upper body repeatedly.~ Whispers demonstrates, by swiping his taloned 
      arms through the air, alternating between one and the other.
Emma listens to the story with polite interest, nodding towards Karl as he
      speaks as if in silent encouragement. The metis cub across the way is 
      glanced at briefly then ignored. For now.
Whispers says, ~She tried to defend back, and stuck a kitchen knife in my side,
      and that set me off. The Rage flared inside me and I kept smashing into 
      her until she stopped flailing, and her upper half was more thick, 
      reeking goop than solid meat. Wolf-Heart and Faces-Rage finished the man 
      between them, the remains of his fetid head smashed between Faces-Rage's 
      jaws, and half of his pus-leaking throat torn out by Wolf-Heart's.~
After a pause, Whispers says finally, ~We were covered in slop, our senses
      assaulted by the vilest of stenches, but we three Cubs were victorious 
      over the Servants of the Enemy.~
Jarred gives an approving nod at the cubs' bravery.
While the cubs speak, the Get Jarl takes up the knife and cuts her fore arm.
      The blood is drained into the tiny bowl. With a lighter from her pocket, 
      she burns some of the dark, chalky graphite and mixes it with the blood. 
      Using this concoction, she writes certain things on the parchment. Glyphs 
      and mysterious diagrams. Deeds are recorded in this way. Then, with the 
      same lighter, the parchment is set on fire and left to burn to ashes in 
      the bowl. When the cubs are done with the telling, she takes up the bowl 
      and moves to stand beside them. First is Dakota. The Get dips three 
      fingers into the black and fairly viscous stuff in the bowl and rubs it 
      into the wounds on the cub's arm and hand. It pushes in to make a unique 
      mark. ~Faces Rage, this is to remember what you did, who you are, and why 
      you were born.~
Fights-For-Hope gives a short yipping growl of congratulations, almost seeming
      to look down at the massive scar upon his own chest.
Leonard nods in approval as he watches the marking ceremony.
Joshua glances at Whispers, apparently disapproving of at least one portion his
      retelling, but remains silent as the rite is preformed on Faces-Rage.
Faces-Rage looks over to Whispers with an open look of pride, then a similar
      look is given to Joshua before she returns her attention back to Signe. 
      She offers one crinos hand, her right. The hand is bare of fur from 
      fingertips to midway up her forearm, the skin burned yet healing from 
      acidic fluid. She doesn't flinch, her face stoic as she watches the Rite 
      being performed. She nods once, saying. ~I will remember.~
Konstantin mutters something about bringing a goddamn iPod to the next moot.
Moving from Dakota to Joshua, the Get performs the same actions for the Walker
      cub. Three fingers take some of the mixture from the bowl and push it 
      into the wound on the Walker cub's chest. ~To always remember who you 
      are, what you did, and why you were born, Wolf-Heart.~ Then, the Get 
      moves to stand in front of Karl. The Get's glare is disturbingly sinister 
      as it meets the Gaian cub. ~The wounds you took, cub, were so slight 
      they've already healed. Which leaves me no choice.~ The knife is 
      brandished, and before Karl can blink, he has a fresh knife cut on his 
      left shoulder. Again, before he finishes wincing from the attack, the Get 
      has pushed the ash and blood mixture into the bleeding wound. ~To 
      remember who you are, what you did, and why you were born, Whispers.~
Three-Blades watches on, reserved at the story telling but not without an
      obvious flicker of something across her features towards the cubs. Pride, 
      or at least approval to a degree.
Salem's gaze burns into Joshua, and for a moment the Walker Elder smiles in a
      feral, Kzinlike kind of way.
Sidhefuil settles her eyes around the three cubs approvingly. She barks.
Although rather shocked, Whispers manages, ~Thank you, Rhya.~
Alicia swells up with pride and places a hand on Karl and Dakota's shoulder,
      giving them a firm squeeze of encouragment.
The Get Jarl then steps away from the three of them and lifts her arms to the
      Sept. ~All of you take note of the glory these three have earned this 
      night. Though they are cubs, they've shed the Enemy's blood, in the 
      Mother's name. Lift up your voices for them!~ Defiant Storm, rising into 
      the war form, starts off the howl with her own deep, resonant and violent 
      call.
Leonard adds his voice to the rising cacaphony of howls.
Fights-For-Hope takes on the howl of glory, retaining his form however.
Emma licks her lips and shifts once more to the warform, adding a howl of
      celebration in.
Jarred shifts to hispo and lets his own howl ring into the night.
Shifting upwards to the warm form, Guards-The-Flame bellows out a beautiful
      howl from the depths of her Galliard's throat, singing praise for the 
      children.
Olga grins a little sillily as Karl is stabbed, and then looks down unhappily
      as she has to remove her shoes once more to shift to Crinos, and raise 
      her own howl up to celebrate the Cubs valour.
Megan shifts up into crinos, her voice joining the chorus ringing through the
      night.
Sidhefuil's bark becomes a high-pitched howl when the Jarl announces the cubs'
      achievements to all the sept.
Joshua remains still, with a look of odd grim determination as the scar over
      his chest is marked. He seems to puff slightly, the good sort of 
      attention going to his head. His chin lifts from the low that it sat at 
      from the entire night. All in all he looks morbidly pleased.
Jacinta raises her own cry, a practiced yell from a human throat.
Three-Blades 's contribution is more or less a roar of the glory that has been
      told, accompanied with restraint nonetheless.
Salem, along with White Bison and Atcen, shifts to Crinos long enough to howl
      in honor of the cubs.
Julie covers a grin with a hand, reminded once again just why she likes Signe.
      Sitting on the cool, wet ground has made her a bit stiff, but she gets to 
      her feet, letting out a war whoop, only to be reminded of her punishment, 
      as the sharp, cutting sound rings in her ears.

[Thus ends the organized portion of the Moot.]

Leonard moves through the gathered crowd as more stories are told and the group
      breaks up into small knots. His aim appears to be Yi.
Severs pushes to his feet and trots toward Ashley.
As the gathering breaks up, Leala silently makes her way back towards the city.
Defends-Worth finds a corner and leans against a tree. She just watches
      everyone.
Anthony makes a bee-line the way he came once the cubs are honored.
The new Black Fury is standing somewhere near the back of the group, listening
      to the joyous howls echo through the night, eyes a bit slanted, dazing 
      off into space as if she was lost somewhere between the past and here.
Joshua heads back to the edge of the Caern from where the Walkers stood,
      picking up the thermos he left there.
Konstantin spends the rest of the moot basically staring at Alicia.
Salem claps Joshua on the shoulder -- nevermind the burns or anything -- and
      mutters something to the cub about a field trip in a few days. Then, as 
      things break up, he starts heading out of the caern.
Faces-Rage stands a bit higher, a bit straighter after the howls in her and her
      fellows' honors. There is no denying the pride in the Child of Gaia's 
      eyes, and she casts a broad grin to her cousin as she retakes her breed 
      form.
Guards-Flame lets her eyes slowly look towards Konstan, raising up a brow, arms
      crossing about her chest.
Jarred gives a long stare in Salem's direction before heading off into the
      darkness with Asteryx.
Julie shoves her fingers through the rave of braids that constitutes her hair,
      then blankly looks about.
Severs contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Severs shifts into Homid form.
Chance gets up, stretches languorously and trots back off to the lap of luxury,
      his tail flicking in annoyance at the dirth he's collected laying on the 
      ground.
Firewatcher goes from crinos down to lupus, and looks around the Caern as
      people begin to depart, ears flickering. With a whuff and a nosing to her 
      tribemates, she heads southwards, out of the Caern.
Atcen yawns widely, grayish tongue curling out of her mouth. She looks around,
      then frowns; White Bison departed when the cub wasn't looking.
Konstantin smiles at Alicia cryptically, and approaches Cutter with a lift of
      his chin.
Fat-Ripper quickly drops back down to Homid form, slipping once again into her
      shoes. She looks over at Sidhefuil and Cycle-Breaker, face a little 
      concerned, and tries to pick out the departing Get Cub before turning to 
      sit down facing them.
Guards-Flame flicks an ear in his direction, then glances back to her cubs. She
      gives a crinos grin and nudges the pair of them gently.
Three-Blades clips her howl short, and then simply begins to rise, her own aim
      to be to move out of the caern. She's stopped though, by the scent and 
      sound of Leonard coming closer. The ragabash pauses mid-step, her paw 
      setting itself back down. Her greeting is rough around the edges.
Cutter shifts up to stand in front of the new Black Fury. "Welcome to the Sept.
      I'm Cutter Thomson, Fostern Theurge of the Lords, and I'd like to help 
      you."