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~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."