It is currently 18:22 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 20 2004.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 48 degrees
Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the
northeast at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.05 and falling,
and the relative humidity is 68 percent. The dewpoint is 38 degrees
Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (1% full).
Two Eagles Bluff
To the northeast, the foothills climb upwards into the steep, snow-capped crags
and mountains. Here, the tall summer grasses bend in sporadic waves as
the wind dances on the bluff. The evergreens and aspens give way to an
open field that lends itself to a panoramic and picturesque view to the
south and east. A small stream wends its way unobtrusively through the
eastern edge of the mountain's crags, the scent and sound of trickling
water clear on the hesitant but almost incessant breeze. Wildflowers
litter the green of the grass, coloring them with touches of violet and
bright oranges, yellows and blues. Tucked in along the sloped wall of the
forested foothills to the northeast is a well-worn section of ground.
Atcen trots up into the bluff on four legs, carrying a dead squirrel in her
long jaws.
Holly's tending the fire when Atcen comes up the bluff with her prize. It's
given a wrinkled lip, but nothing like the disdain the cub showed on her
first day. "Hi," she greets.
Atcen stops while still some distance away from the fire and stares at Holly.
Hello. This is _my_ kill.
Holly rasies a hand. "And you're welcome to keep it," she says with a snort.
It's true, though, the cub looks....hungry.
Atcen looks hungry, too. Starved. But, then, she _always_ looks hungry and
starved. She drops the squirrel and stares at Holly some more. I know you
can turn into a wolf. Can you kill prey yet?
Holly hasn't yet, and that's clear in the hesitancy of her answer. "Yeah," she
lies.
Atcen seems to buy it, though; she huffs and lies down to start tearing into
the squirrel corpse. Not much to hunt up _here_, though. Better down the
mountain. Yes.
Holly looks both curious, almost eager. "Like what?" she asks, thinking maybe
Atcen means 'things other than squirrels'.
Atcen licks her chops. Rabbits. Deer, a little, but not many of those on the
Bawn. I think all the Garou scare them away.
Holly eyes the gaunt, ravenous cub with an odd kind of jealousy. "What's it
like? The bawn?" she asks, her hunger for the moment put on hold.
More interesting than here, Atcen tells Holly, after gnawing a bit more on her
squirrel. She licks her chops again. Many Garou, all different kinds.
City Garou. Wyrmcomer Garou.
Holly runs her hands through her hair, sighing. "How can it /not/ be more
exciting than here, in'it? There's nothing here." A pause, and a thought
occursto the girl. She eyes Atcen, contemplative. "Is there a house
there? All those city garou. They gotta have indoor plumbing somehow,
someway, right?"
Atcen makes short work of the rest of the thin, aboreal rodent while Holly
speaks. There is a house that some go to and sleep in. There is lots of
food there and water inside, yes, but it's very hot and I don't like it.
There is the ~caern~ too, and that is very good.
Holly's irritation and jealousy resurface. "Why is it you get to go there when
I can't?" she asks, as if the cub herself was responsible for the
decision.
Atcen sits up, cocking her ears forward. Pierces the Ice is my teacher and says
I can go, so I go. Why shouldn't you go too?
"Good question," Holly says, scowl deepening a little. She abandons the fir by
tossing the stir-stick she was using into the flames. They're low enough
not to be emitting too much warmth that Atcen would be overly
uncomfortable. In any case, though, the theurge cub gets up to walk
around the edge of the bluff. "Nothing I can understand. I'm as good as
you."
Atcen snorts at this, then gets a sly look. If you're as good as me, you should
come with me to the Bawn and meet the Wyrmcomers.
Holly ooks over her shoulder, eyeing the other cub with a cold stare
that--while it doesn't approach the icy-ness of the child touched by
Wendigo--carries its own kind of chill. "You're just trying to goad me
into disobeying," she says, though her eyes look off, then, into the
distance towards where she's been told this caern lies.
Atcen utters a yipping, mocking little noise, then lolls her tongue out. What
is the worst that Brings Buffalo Home can do? He won't _kill_ you, not
just for going to the _bawn_. If you stay here all the time, you'll be a
cub forever and ever and ever.
Holly once again turns to face the other cub, and her gaze is even harder. But
it's thoughtful, too. "You know the way?" she asks quietly.
Atcen's tail thumps the ground. I know the way very very well. Take wolf! It
will be faster. Maybe we'll be back before he even notices!
Holly moves from where she'd been standing at the edge and heads towards the
cave. Her clothes are removed, since they've not been dedicated, and
placed inside somewhere safe. Then the cub slowly takes the wolf.
Holly contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Holly shifts into Lupus form.
Atcen gives a quick, sharp bark, then takes off down the trail, eagerly leading
the way.
[Holly in lupus]
Thin and a tiny bit scrawny, this wolf nonetheless appears healthy. Her coat is
a light beige, grey, and red with darker down fur buried beneath the
winter fluff. She's young, maybe two years old, with bright, alert eyes
and and small but wide triangular ears. Black nose is set in a muzzle of
white and is matched by thick white paws on gangly, teenager legs.
[...]
Bawn: Eastern Forest
Gradually, the dense forest gives way to more mixed vegetation, as trees become
less pervasive and undergrowth takes over. Spotty clearings filled with
short scrub and bushes dominate the forest floor, with only a few game
trails to make paths through the tangled growth. The forest that is here
seems to loom, as if resenting handing over land to lesser plants. Small
rustlings come from the bushes and patches of high grass. Who knows what
is concealed here?
To the north, the sounds of the interstate are audible in the distance, while
to the east, the ground begins to rise into tumbled piles of rocks and
shallow gullies.
Atcen slows as they come down from the mountains and into the forest proper,
her tail held confidently high. She pauses, looking back at the homid
cub. We're on the bawn now. Do you want to see the special place?
Turtle's tail is not so confident. It's low, and her ears are wary. It's also
clear that, although she's practiced in the wolf form, she's not crossed
great distances of country. when she catches up with Atcen, she's panting
a bit.
Turtle's answer is a confident chuff. There's no turning back now.
Atcen wags her tail again and leads the way to the caern.
Up the Valley
The valley grows narrow here, rising from the southwest. The fog that dominates
the lower part of the valley thins as the land rises, but its enigmatic
presence is replaced by the thick blanket of trees that envelopes the
land like a shroud. It is easy to imagine getting lost forever in the
dense forest of oak, pine, and dogwood. The valley, stretching down and
out of the surrounding trees, would seem a great comfort, a magical way
out, if it were not for the disconcerting, lingering mists that curl
around its base to obscure whatever may lie beyond.
The valley widens to the southwest, towards the caern.
Atcen flattens her ears as they head down into the valley, her pace slowing.
Down here is a place of hot steam. I don't like it. You'll like it
better. But, come on... can you smell them? The others?
Turtle's nose is working over time. I can, she says, ears pricking forward. I
can smell...many things. she moves forward, almost in front of Atcen.
Atcen growls briefly and jerks forward, shouldering the other cub. Me. I lead.
Come on!
In the Swirling Wind
The rugged walls of the canyon grow narrower to the northeast, forcing the
gusts of winds that it catches to rush down into this small clearing.
Here the breezes meet with the drifting mists off the waterfall's spray,
becoming swirling bits of haze that dance and whirl like merry ghosts.
Occasionally, the canyon's rim pushes swifter air into the caern,
breaking up the dance and sending the mists, scattered, back to their
source.
The old growth forest surrounding the caern has been hewn down out to 150',
leaving only stumps as tombstones for the mighty trees that once
sheltered the caern. The ground has a light covering of grasses and weeds
and wildflowers and occasional sapling trees, but nothing larger than
that.
Swirling in the area is some of the mist sprayed up by the waterfall to the
south. To the west, a rock slab juts out of the ground at an angle. the
caern's center is to the southwest; the rest of the valley extends
northeast, toward the mountains.
By the steam vents, Olga glances away from Signe, to Layne, and nods a few
times, before looking back. "We're still considering territory, but we'll
be scourin' one 'f our prospective places soon. Likely'll find somethin'
for y'," she mentions. "Though, t' be honest, I'm jus' new here, and I've
been spending a lot of time out here, the Bawn and the farm, so, not the
best eyes in the city. Y' want info, any 'f the other Gnawers'll do y'
better. I'm jus' more personable," Olga says, with a broad cracked grin
revealing yellowed teeth, beaming and silly-looking. When she turns to
Wolf-Heart, however, her eyes are slightly stern. "Yeah," she returns to
him, "that's somethin' that'd do to be sniffed out first, though, figure
out why it's happenin', 'fore we go in with claws 'nd all," Olga comments.
By the steam vents, Wolf-Heart picks himself up off his haunches, hushed by the
gnawer yet again. He gestures with his head back to her, indicating that
Fat-Ripper probably knows best on this issue.
Atcen leads Turtle into the caern, head held high and confidently. See? This is
it. This is the place.
Turtle keeps herself close to the ground, her ears forward. I see, she says,
but that's all se says, too busy taking in sights and scents, especially
around the crowd gathered a little ways off.
By the steam vents, Signe listens and nods. "What, though? What is it the
Walker cub thinks would be good that needs to be checked out? I'm sure
they all need to be checked out. The point is we got a lot of targets to
choose from."
By the steam vents, Layne matches Signe's grin with one of her own, turning
eyes to Olga when she explains. For the moment, the Philodox sinks into
silence, unaware of watchful eyes. Just enjoying the steam...
By the steam vents, Making her way down the path towards the Caern, Ashley lets
out a breath, the mist forming about her lips slowly. After placing heads
with names, she crosses her arms about her chest, making her way towards
the group, being none too quiet of her approach.
By the steam vents, "All of what need to be checked out?" Tony asks, looking up
and shifting his weight.
By the steam vents, Olga plays with a steam vent, darting her toes over it and
then out and away. "The bridge," Olga explains to Signe without looking
at her. "Giant Pattern Spiders, building a wall on the bridge, blocking
it off. It'll have to be cleaned up, yeah, assuming we can get another
together to do it, but 's important to see if we can figure out _why_
it's happening, too. Wish you Walkers had some Theurges," she mutters,
and the next part is let out like a tooth being extracted, "they're
better at this sort 'f thing."
Atcen shifts up into glabro form and trots into the center of the caern,
pausing to look back at the other Wendigo cub. ~Coming?~
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.
In the windiest area, Turtle glances once more towards the steamy place and
then decides to follow Atcen. she remains in wolf form, padding forward
with her nose to the ground.
By the steam vents, Wolf-Heart doesn't comment, instead standing there
nervously looking between the two elder's knees. Right now he looks like
he wants to be somewhere else.
By the steam vents, Signe's eyes narrow. though she hears the Fury she doesn't
greet her yet. "The bridge," she says, grinning a little more. "Yeah,
that's perfect."
By the steam vents, "What about the bridge?" The Fury asks with a rumble in her
throat as she makes her way to the others, catching the tail end of the
conversation. She looks curious, eyes squinting.
By the steam vents, Footsteps draw Layne's attention, eyes squinting against
steam and darkness to try and make out the approaching figure. When close
enough, she flags a hand at the Fury, telling her succinctly, "Bridge
needs attention."
Atcen hunkers down, squatting on her heels, and points out some of the figures
by the steam vents. "That is Defiant-Storm of Get of Fenris. Ahroun, do
not make anger. _That_ one is a Bone Gnawer, city Garou. ~_Urrah_.~
_That_ one, wolf one, is Josh-wa. Glass Walker. ~Urrah.~" She lowers her
voice to a whisper that only Holly's wolfish ears can hear. "He is
stupid. Moon calf. Eats his tail."
By the steam vents, Olga looks at Artemis approaching as well, and offers an
even more succinct, "Spiders." She then looks back at Signe, and says,
slowly, head lowered slightly, "We do wanna check it out first, y' don't
mind, though, Signe." She straightens up, then, and peers out towards the
centre of the Caern, seeing figures there, and she takes a few steps out
of the mist, to see more clearly.
By the steam vents, "Which bridge?" Tony is a few steps behind everyone else in
this conversation.
Turtle's ears splay in confused amusement at Atcen's whisper, but her eyes fix
on the Gnawer. That one I know, she says, recognizing Olga.
Pigeon-Feeder. The cub's tail twitches some, pleased.
By the steam vents, "Spiders on the bridge? Well, lets get rid of them."
Artemis says with a roll of her shoulders, fingers flexing as she bursts
her way into the war form, taking a moment to allow her joints to pop and
stretch correctly into place.
Atcen blinks pale blue eyes down at her fellow Pure One. "You do? How?"
By the steam vents, Wolf-Heart doesn't hear the Moon Calf comment, but he sure
the hell hears the one about urrah. In a smooth motion he rears up onto
two legs, shifting up to crinos in a heartbeat. The now rather peeved
looking Ahroun stomps his way over to to Atcen, lips curled back. ~Watch
your tongue, Cannibal Spirit, or I'll hold it for you.~
By the steam vents, Signe shakes her head. "No no," she says, though it's in
agreement with Olga. "by all means, check it out." Josh's outburst grabs
her attention, then, and she peers toward the center, eying the two cubs.
Atcen swings her attention back to the steam vents and is on her feet and in
the war form in a heartbeat. ~You are! Urrah, city Garou! Those Who Walk
Among Glass!~
Turtle crouches further at Wolf-Heart's aggression. It lasts only a moment,
though, and she comes to stand back up, nose in the air curiously. Before
the change, she answers Atcen. She let me feed the pigeons.
By the steam vents, "And there he goes," Tony says wryly at Josh's sudden
departure, taking one hand out of a pocket to rub his forehead as he
watches the confrontation curiously.
By the steam vents, Olga waves high and wide to Turtle when she makes out the
wolf's identity, and calls out a bright "Holly! Hey, how are y'?" from
her place by the steam vents. She turns back to Signe and nods a couple
of times, politely, saying "Thanks, Sig," with a big grin on her face,
moving off to meet up with the Cub. The previous topic of conversation
and the conflict between Atcen and Wolf-Heart are soundly ignored.
By the steam vents, ~And you, insolent mule who needs lesson.~ He snarls back,
teeth gashing and hackals bristling. ~You are a hundred times more city
corrupt than I am, Brains-of-Crow. Not to mention a liar.~
By the steam vents, Layne continues to lounge in the warm mist, looking awfully
amused as crinos forms pop up around her, "Shit, and not even a sliver of
moon to speak of." Swinging her gaze toward the Fury, she states, calmly,
"Not now. We're going to investigate, first, figure out the -why- before
we hand over any spider arses. Not -that- urgent." One hand goes
subconsciously to her left arm, fingers tracing web-lines from a scar she
received first time they dealt with stuff at the bridge.
By the steam vents, Lures-The-Beast lets out a frustrated breath, growling in
her throat as she glances over her shoulder towards the pair of cubs,
then looks towards Signe, Olga and Layne. Her fur bristles slightly, ears
slanting backwards some, obviously annoyed. ~Then lets go see what is
going on.~ She says a bit impatiently, huffing, eyes glancing to the cubs
now and then.
Turtle greets Olga with a wide, slow wag of her tail. Wolf-Heart's growling and
cursing makes her ears flatten again, however. Aside, to Atcen, she asks,
Is he...alright?
~Weaver-rutter!~ Atcen snarls back, suddenly in a rage; her frosted eyes almost
seem to glow with fury. ~I've never even _been_ to the city, while _you_
were _born_ in its _stink_ and I know that after your elder lets you
you'll go _back_ to piss on Grandmother and spread it further! Pierces
the Ice is too nice to you, moon calf... _Wolf-Wrestler_.~
By the steam vents, Signe watches Josh with slightly narrowed eyes, but silent.
She, for her part, remains where she is. Just watching.
By the steam vents, Olga scratches at her neck as she walks down from the steam
vents, moving along to the clearing at the heart of the Caern and the two
Cubs there, Turtle in particular. She does her very best to ignore the
two who are rapidly spoiling her good mood.
From the rock outcropping, Pierces Ice makes her way down the trail from the
northern wall of the valley.
Turtle now eyes Atcen a little warily. The younger cub backs away slightly,
moving sideways and then circling around the central cairn of stones. Her
eyes move back and forth between the group and Atcen.
By the steam vents, Anthony glances around at the people that didn't leave the
vents, then frowns, turning back to watch the impending fight. "I hope
she knocks some sense into you, Josh," Tony calls towards the center of
the caern, after a couple of hesitations.
Wolf-Heart decides now is the right time to answer the concerns and accusations
in the age old Ahroun way: he burns forward with rage to the Mule,
swinging his clawed hand to rend at her midsection, ~I Warned you once
mule, -don't you ever use that name-!~
By the steam vents, Signe stands back, folding her arms across her chest and
watching with a toothy grin.
Turtle meets Olga, skittering away from the suddenly fighting ahrouns. She
looks nervous and tense, crouched and ready to move if they get too close.
By the steam vents, Layne may or may not have heard Artemis' prompting, looking
more interested in the inevitable cub-fight. The pair of Wendigo, she's
almost totally unfamiliar with...and hey, she's curious to see what
Leonard's growing brood is up to these days. The Fianna skids down the
rocks a ways in her boots and perches like a little pixie, smirk
blossoming into an impish grin.
Olga keeps away from the two fighting as well, far enough as to not be hit by a
flailing claw, at least, and she moves towards Turtle. Once her back's to
the combatants her form flips up quick as anything into Crinos, and then
melts with equal rapidity down to Lupus, so that she can greet the other
Theurge in the same form she herself is in. Hey, she barks out to her
again when she gets close, easily and without concern.
From the rock outcropping, Pierces Ice picks her way carefully down the trail
and into the caern just as Josh approaches the center. Her body radiates
a tension usually reserved for the full moon, and the sight that greets
her does nothing to better her mood. With a gruff shake of her head, she
comes to rest at the very edge of the outcropping, watching both of her
students with a critical eye.
Turtle noses the Gnawer when she takes the wolf. Between that greeting and
watching the two cubs fighting, she misses the fact that Pierces Ice has
come down the trail and into the caern. The newest of the Wendigo cubs
crouches to the ground to watch the tussle. Does this happen a lot? she
asks the Gnawer.
By the steam vents, In a maddened rush, the Glass Walker Ahroun pours on the
speed, the world moving in a blur of slow motion towards the Wendigo cub.
His claws lash out, whipping quickly in an arc, sinking into the Mule's
stomach, tearing out fresh wounds across her hide. When the pain hits,
something snaps, and the Wendigo becomes a whirling bundle of rage and
ferocity. She lashes out with her claws, catching the Walker off guard,
tearing into his gut with the close quarters with one paw, then shoots
forward with the other, sinking into his chest, tearing out a horrifying
gash of flesh, fur and muscle, exposing the bone. Even as he topples, she
is upon him, rending his shoulder loose with her powerful jaws, sinking
her teeth in and nearly yanking it completely off. Blood splashes across
her face and upon the white, pure snow, turning it a dirty black crimson.
By the steam vents, And by a miracle, and the blessed gift of the Walker's
rage, he still breathes, barely, blood bubbling from his muzzle as his
body shrinks down into a ragged, torn mess, sprawled out into the snow on
his side.
From the rock outcropping, Pierces Ice's mood only darkens, like the snow
drenched with blood, as she watches. Heaving an unhappy sigh, she shifts
up to her birth form.
Atcen, bloody-clawed and bloody-fanged, crouches over the Walker cub's prone
and unconscious form, then throws her head back and howls in triumphant
victory.
Fat-Ripper wags her tail slightly and returns Turtle's greeting with a firm
nuzzle of her own. She responds to her question with a helpless yet
dismissive roll of her head, a vague gesture which could mean practically
anything. She turns then to see how it's going, and doesn't like what she
sees, a low growl coming from her throat, almost imperceptible, her ears
pricking quickly forwards. Off she pads towards Wolf-Heart, slowly,
giving Turtle a nudge with her shoulder as she goes.
By the steam vents, "Fuckity fuck-fuck," Layne sums up in a breath after the
quick match, frowning toward the poor, bloodied Walker cub. She remains
where she is, though--not much she can do.
Atcen stops howling as Olga approaches and backs off from Joshua, her yellowed,
shark-sharp teeth bared in a feral grin. Not yet noticing Jacinta, she
glances sidelong at Holly and lolls her long tongue.
Turtle lays flat against the snow. In an unfortunate coincidence, some of that
red-black ichor that decorates the snow got splattered onto the cub's
muzzle. As Fat-ripper moves off, she rubs her nose in the snow to get the
stuff off. Then, just then, she spies Pierces Ice, and the cub slinks
back even further. It's a silent look, but she tries to warn Atcen what's
behind her.
From the rock outcropping, With a sharp tone and a voice loud enough to carry,
Jacinta calls over to the metis cub. "Atcen! Come."
By the steam vents, As Josh crumples into the snow, Anthony is already jogging
towards the center of the caern, bemusedly shaking his head at the
fight's quick resolution.
By the steam vents, Signe's nostrils flair as she looks at the prone Walker
cub. Teeth gritted, she lets out a small, silent sigh as she moves
forward.
Atcen looks over her shoulder at her name being called and flattens her ears.
Slowly, she shrinks down into homid form and, with blood now soaking into
the front of her t-shirt from where Joshua clawed her, skulks over toward
Jacinta. From triumphant and gleeful to sullen in .5 seconds.
At the Rock Outcropping
The caern flattens out here, a more stable and solid area than around the steam
vents or even the caern's center. Scrub grass and weeds eke out an
existence between the rocks on the ground. A rock outcropping, jutting
out of the ground at a slight angle, ends up only about a foot above the
ground. With its slight rise reaching generally towards the center, the
rock slab seems to form a natural dais, a platform just a little above
the level of the rest of the caern. The rock has been chipped and
scratched by events in the recent past, and extreme scrutiny might reveal
faded stains that don't look entirely natural.
The old growth forest surrounding the caern has been hewn down out to 150',
leaving only stumps as tombstones for the mighty trees that once
sheltered the caern. The ground has a light covering of grasses and weeds
and wildflowers and occasional sapling trees, but nothing larger than
that.
The caern circles away from the walls east, towards the swirling area, and
south, towards the steam vents; the center is southeast of here. A
dangerously slippery, muddy trail winds up towards the rim of the caern
from here. One false step could result in tragedy.
At the center, Turtle glances at the Walker cub as she walks by, flinching a
little from the blood and gore. Quickly, she moves to catch up with Atcen.
By the steam vents, Shocked. That is what Cycle-Breaker is, standing over by
the steam vents, having watched what transpired. The Fury just stands
there, nearby Layne. She nudges her packmate's hand gently, leaning
forward to do so. What did I miss. What happened?
By the steam vents, Lures-The-Beast glances over at the fight and shrugs her
shoulders uncaringly, huffing out a loud breath. ~Spiders?~ She asks Olga
again, going back tot he initial conversation.
At the center, Fat-Ripper picks up her pace as Atcen moves off, hurrying over
towards Wolf-Heart. When she reaches him, her muzzle darts down and she
inspects his wounds, and her concern for him is shown in a faint whimper.
You alright? The wolf summarily ignores Lures-the-Beast.
At the center, Wolf-Heart naturally, being totaly lacking in the conscience
department, has nothing to say to Olga.
At the center, Signe regards the cub silently, eventually looking to Olga. "Can
you heal him up a bit?" she asks, a certain amount of sympathy--perhaps
unusual for the Get--in her tone.
Jacinta studies the metis cub. Toe to head, she examines Atcen's wounds and
stance. "What mistakes did you make?"
Turtle tries to make herself as invisible. Impossible, of course, but she moves
to the edge of Jacinta's sight and remains quite still. As long as
Pierces Ice's attention is on Atcen, perhaps she'll not wonder what
Turtle's doing way out here.
Atcen chews on her lower lip for a moment before answering guardedly. "Let
him... inside. Dee-fense. Did not move 'way." She looks down, then pulls
up the tail of her shirt to peer at the big bleeding clawmarks over her
belly.
By the steam vents, Layne only notices Cycle-Breaker now, raising the hand to
sink fingers into the fur around her packmate's neck. "Cubs goin' at it
over some name-calling. That one," she indicates the departing Atcen with
nod, "just tore into Josh. I -think- he's still breathing..." she kinda
peers toward the spot the Walker's lying in, looking vaguely concerned.
At the center, Anthony skids to a stop beside his tribesmate, crouching
gingerly nearby. He covers his mouth with one hand as he looks over the
injuries, blanching somewhat at the sight. "Is he still breathing?" he
asks quietly, unable to tell himself.
At the center, Wolf-Heart is breathing, but not that well. In fact it's rather
laboured.
At the center, Lures-The-Beast makes her way into the Center with a soft snort
of her muzzle, paws swinging at her side as she lowers herself down to
her knees, reaching out to prod his body. Slowly, she begins to pat him
down, growling to herself. ~Ribs are broken~
At the center, Fat-Ripper raises her eyes to Signe and shakes her head in a
human way. Can't. She lowers it again and licks futilely at the Cub's
wounds. Anthony's question gets a brief nod, again, as a human wood, as
Fat-Ripper reverts to old habits.
Jacinta nods once. "Ii. You allowed him to control your actions. What else?"
Atcen's brows furrow together. She glances down at Holly, then again at the
blood on her belly. She presses the battered cotton against the wound.
"Ummm..." She's at a loss.
At the center, "I'll carry him," Signe says, moving to pick the cub up. "One of
you run to the farm, see if you can find someone who can heal. We'll be
there on your heels."
By the steam vents, Layne rolls forward, landing on four wolf paws as she
descends the rocks the rest of the way. Throwing her head up as she trots
on into the center, jaws part to release a long, shrill, wavering howl.
Healing needed! Need healer! Here! Now!
Jacinta points at the prone cub bleeding on the snow. "Can he fight Uma's
attackers like this?"
Atcen looks over toward the center, then scowls and turns back to Jacinta. "He
go warform _first_. Started it!"
At the center, Fat-Ripper looks up at Signe, stepping away from the prone Cub
as the Fostern lifts him. She lingers a brief moment, before turning off
to the woods, jogging off, and quickly breaking into a fast lope.
Turtle's ears prick up at Layne's high keening. Her attention quickly comes
back to Atcen and Jacinta, though.
The corners of Jacinta's eyes tighten, bad mood barely contained. "I saw. I did
not ask who /Started/. I asked if he can fight for Grandmother while he
bleeds on the snow."
At the center, Signe is careful with the cub, since a lot of his insides are
currently out. she takes glabro to make it easier, and heads out.
Atcen hunches her shoulders and stares at the ground, her lower lip sticking
significantly out. "No," she mumbles.
Turtle forgets she's supposed to be invisible right now. she can't help it, and
chuffs out, The other one did attack Atcen, Pierces Ice.
Jacinta nods once more. "Ii. Could you have stopped him without him or you
bleeding on the snow, carried away by elders? Could you win without
depriving Grandmother of her warrior?"
Jacinta turns to Turtle, a tilt of her head saying that she's not ready to talk
to the newer cub, just yet.
Atcen just shrugs, bare toes digging at the rough rock beneath the three of
them.
Turtle catches that look from Jacinta and backs up, eyes averted and the cub
growing silent once more.
Jacinta stretches, turning and looking a the blood stained snow instead of at
her students. "Did he attack first? Yes. I saw. Were you right to defend
yourself? Yes. Did you allow him to control you? Did you allow him to
force your action? And did you cause more damage to him than necessary?
Also yes. Next time, I want to see better. I have not been teaching you
to fight so that you can lose control. Allow a better fighter to do as he
did, and you would be the one lying in the snow." Moralizing over she
turns back to the cubs, looking at each in turn without speaking.
Turtle avoids Jacinta's eyes, but her posture suggests she understands.
Atcen continues to stare at her bare toes, but mumbles something that indicates
similar.
Jacinta says "Good," attention shifting to the lupus shaped cub. "Does Brings
the Buffalo Home know that you are here?"
Turtle slinks back further. No, her posture indicates.
Jacinta folds her arms across her chest. "Has he given permission for you to
roam?"
"I want show her caern," Atcen mumbles, glancing up at Jacinta. Her head lifts,
jaw jutting firmly.
Turtle speaks for herself on the matter, as well. I cannot learn everything at
the Bluff. I wanted to see.
Jacinta turns a cold eye to Atcen. "I see. I had no idea that you were Rited
since last I saw you and that you had been appointed her teacher.
Congratulations."
Atcen drops her eyes again and stares at the ground, saying nothing.
Jacinta shakes her head and looks back to Holly. "I agree. You should be shown
the caern. You should be shown many things, and cannot remain always at
the bluff. However, you have /not/ been given leave to travel the bawn
alone. And this one is /not/ one of your teachers. Did you witness what
just happened with the Glass Walker cub? There are worse things in these
woods and until our Elder deems you ready, you are /not/ to travel alone.
You need adult supervision. Understood?"
Turtle does understand, Pierces Ice-rhya. I am sorry. She remains submissive,
but without whining. In fact, despite being caught, she seems glad she
disobeyed, even though there does not appear to be any intent for her to
repeat the mistake.
Atcen just toes the rock and bleeds silently. Her wounds are, really, nothing
compared to what she inflicted on the Walker cub.
Jacinta grinds her teeth arms slowly dropping to her side. "Then, if you are
ready, I have something to show you."
Turtle looks from Jacinta to Atcen and back again, wondering if the elder means
her, or the gaunt cub. Show? she asks.
Atcen looks warily up from her toes at Jacinta's face. Despite being
significantly taller than the Ahroun, her hunched posture conveys a
feeling of being smaller.
"Show," the Ahroun says, even as her form melts down into lupus. Come, she
signals, clearly indicating both cubs.
Atcen drops down to all fours, taking the wolf form with tail tucked.
[...]
Burial Mounds
This wide clearing in the midst of short, dark pines is rough with wild grass
and bare stone. The air is a bit cooler up here in the foothills than
below, and the majestic peaks of the nearby mountains rear up over the
eastern treetops. There is a vine-covered boulder standing under the edge
of the somber evergreens to the east. The air here is prenaturally still
and the grass waves not at all for there is no breeze that blows through
the pines. It is silent, no call of bird thrown from the treetops to
dance gaily in the open spaces. Occasionally chill fingers run up your
spine.
A faint path leading downhill to the west is the only exit from the clearing.
Pierces Ice trots into the clearing and leaps up to the top of the vine-covered
boulder, tail hanging down behind her. She looks down on the cubs as they
follow.
Turtle pads into the area, ears shifting and cocking as she sniffs about. Her
eyes follow as Pierces Ice jumps up on the boulder. She herself settles
to a crouch at the foot of it, watching.
Atcen joins Turtle, lying down on her side. She curls inward to lick at her
wound.
Pierces Ice settles down until her forepaws hang over the edge of the front of
the boulder and she can still look down on the cubs. Have you been to
this place, before?
Atcen indicates, mutedly, that she hasn't.
Turtle doesn't recognize it and indicates as much, ears alert and curious.
Pierces Ice leaps down and noses around to the back of the boulder. She
scratches at the vines, pulling some away from the base of the stone.
Look. She backs away, leaving room for the cubs to come see a weathered
and worn petroglyph. Almost invisible, now, careful examination can still
make out the symbol for Wendigo.
Atcen gets up, a bit stiffly, and pads over to look at the glyph. One ear
quirks backward, and she shifts to human form to look at it better and
touch it with blood-crusted fingers.
Turtle remains in the wolf, her nose touching the glyph as she too gets closer.
Pierces Ice backs up several most steps, eventually backing onto her haunches,
then returns to a form with a voice for stories. "What did you see?"
Atcen bites on one corner of her lower lip, tracing the glyph again. "Mark.
Means... us-tribe?" She looks at Jacinta hopefully.
Turtle knows the glyph, intuitively. It is the mark of our tribe, she says,
sitting down again.
Jacinta nods. "Ii. Do you know why it is here?"
That Turtle does not know, and she looks to Jacinta purposefully and curiously.
Why?
Atcen just keeps silent, staring at Jacinta with her hand still on the stone.
Jacinta says "What history do you know? What have you been told of this place
you have come to live, to protect?"
Turtle chuffs, looking to Atcen as well before answering. I've been told of our
tribe, but nothing of this place and its past.
"Used belong to us," Atcen adds, speaking slowly. "Ice King kill, chase away.
Caern go sleep."
Ice King? Turtle asks, intrigued, curious, alert. She senses a story.
Jacinta's smile starts slowly but spreads eventually to her eyes. "Yes. The
Wheel. Our mark, our glyph, proof that this place was of and for the
Wendigo. Then came death. And, as Atcen said, the caern went to sleep.
When it was reawakened it was different. Three spirits came, Magpie - to
hear her secrets, Cougar - to fight her enemies, Buffalo - to hold the
ways, and the caern was called The Wheel Renewed, and claimed by those of
many tribes."
Atcen listens, her pale eyes wide and intent, her gaunt face fixed in Jacinta's
direction.
Jacinta's pause grows long, almost uncomfortably so, and she looks directly
into the eyes of first Atcen and then the wolf-shaped Holly. "The other
tribes. An individual must never be judged by the group of which they are
a part. That way lies only loss and threat. But the /group/ may be judged
by their actions, may be judged by the lessons they teach. /This/ place
was Wendigo, and when we were attacked /none/ came to aide us. But when
it was reawakened, they all came to claim a piece. Just as they came to
the pure lands long ago."
Atcen bites on her lower lip and drops her eyes to frown at her toes. One
bloodied hand curls into a fist.
Jacinta says "And then, the spirits gave themselves and Grandmother remembers
their sacrifice. Even though his bones are gone, the land remembers where
Buffalo fell. And the stories tell that not long after, despite all that
they gave, the caern fell again. Fell and was reclaimed, fell and was
reborn. And now the Wheel is no more, it is, instead, the Hidden Walk."
"Why?" Atcen asks, looking up.
Jacinta says "Because what once was a medicine wheel is now fallen into the
canyon. The Wheel of life is no more a part of the caern we behold."
"But why... did it... must _change?" Atcen persists.
Jacinta says "Those stories did not reach me. Not as whole tales, at least. All
that I have been told is that the arrogance of the other tribes allowed
the caern to fall."
Jacinta says "Perhaps you will find the truth and tell the stories."
Atcen's lower lip pouches out. Then she nods, slowly. "Learn stories." She tips
her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Brings Buffalo knows, I think."
Jacinta gives just a slight nod and goes on. "Brings the Buffalo Home sent out
a call to Wendigo to come and take back the caern for our tribe. /That/
is what brought me here. I am here to teach the ways of our ancestors, to
restore the caern for the ancestors who gave their lives before us. This
place, this clearing, is where we may come to remind ourselves of who we
are, and what this caern means."
Atcen nods again, then looks at the glyph in the stone, brushing it reverently
now. After a moment, she looks back at Jacinta. "This place, our place
again? Like Brings Buffalo wants?"
Jacinta says "Ii."
Atcen nods a third time, her gaunt face keen with determination, her gaze going
faraway.
Turtle has been studying the glyph of her tribe, sniffing it. Watching and
listening to the words. Eventually she looks back to her teacher, asking,
Can it be done, by us? Bring the Wheel back from the EArth?
Jacinta pulls at her sock, not looking at Holly immediately. When she does, her
eyes hold determination, as does her voice. "I do not know what it will
take, but it will be done."
Atcen thumps the ground with the flat of her hand. "Yes," she says firmly,
echoing the Ahroun's determination. "Yes yes yes."
Turtle echoes it as well with a determined growl. I will help, she says, as
firmly as Atcen's thump.
Jacinta breathes deeply, holds the breath for a long mmoment, and the releases
it, and a lot of the tension from her shoulders and spine as well. "There
are other signs of our history, if you look closely around you when you
walk the bawn. Keep yourself open to the stories Grandmother will tell."
Atcen nods solemnly and then bares her yellowed teeth in a broad grin.
Turtle gets to her feet. The cub pads deeper among the snow and underbrush of
the graveyard, some of the hackles on her back rising. This place 'talks'
she says, but doesn't explain what she means. Stopping, she turns her
wolfy-head towards Jacinta, golden eyes curious. When will I get to see
the place of Spirits?
Jacinta looks up through the trees at the nearly entire absence of a moon.
"When the moon grows fat, if Leonard has not taken you, ask me, and I
will show you the world of the yua. Now it is dark, there, and dangerous."
Turtle understands, eagerness showing in the twitch of her tail as she too
looks up at the thin moon.
Atcen yawns suddenly and stretches out on the ground next to the marker stone,
rolling over onto her side.
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