"..."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 14:07 Pacific Time on Fri Mar 12 2004.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 50 degrees
      Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      west at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.20 and rising, and 
      the relative humidity is 74 percent. The dewpoint is 42 degrees 
      Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (58% full).

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.
Obvious exits:
WaterFall  Center  Rocky Slab  Up the Valley  

At the center, Fire-Dancer seems to be surprised at the gesture offered her. It
      does bring her tail into a quick wag before she relaxes once more. A 
      lupine grin covers her face, Is good to be Cliath, she muses.
Atcen climbs carefully down into the caern, the constant breezes tugging at her
      short-cropped hair.
At the center, Wolf-Heart huffs, but doesn't comment on the two other's
      approval. ~Maybe.~ He rumbles back. ~But I would hope they would be burnt 
      out sooner than that.~
At the center, The mask of sober discontent Olga had been wearing for a while
      falls away at Fire-Dancer's statement, and the corner of her lip turns up 
      into a small grin, and her fingers work a little more quickly at the 
      wolf's fur. "Hope so, too, Josh," she comments to him idly. "But 's not 
      our thing t' deal with." She doesn't notice seem to notice Atcen's 
      arrival: her attention is elsewhere, and her senses in this form rather 
      weak.
Atcen doesn't seem to be of a mind to call attention to herself; her manner is
      pensive and withdrawn, lip-chewing. She hunkers down, squatting on her 
      bare heels within the winds, and chews on a thumbnail.
At the center, Yes, the Fianna wolf agrees. One would hope.
Pushing up off her belly, Sidhefuil stretches limbs and shakes fur, then
      glances toward the sun.
At the center, Wolf-Heart wrinkles his nose, head briefly regarding the cub,
      before he turns to trot off back to the center of the Caern again.

NAME		 BREED	AUSPICE	  TRIBE		   RANK SEX  LAST ON
Natalie          Homid  Galliard  Glass Walkers      1   F   Mar 12 13:08:59* 
Atcen            Metis  Galliard  Wendigo            0   F   Mar 12 14:07:16* 
Olga             Homid  Theurge   Bone Gnawers       1   F   Mar 12 10:05:29* 
Wolf-Heart       Homid  Ahroun    Glass Walkers      1   M   Mar 12 10:13:03* 
Sidhefuil        Homid  Philodox  Fianna             1   F   Mar 12 10:26:13* 
Fire-Dancer      Homid  Ahroun    Get of Fenris      1   F   Mar 12 13:13:09*

At the center, Olga takes in the departing Ahroun, and she sends after him a
      quick "G'bye, then, Josh." She leans into her bag again, and yawns 
      widely, displaying a fat tongue and yellowed teeth, and throws out her 
      arms, entering into a more restful mood. "Oh, Layne," she mentions to her 
      Alpha, twisting her head around to see her. "Jean wants t' talk to us 
      about joining Griphus. Y' know her, any?"
At the center, Wolf-Heart looks back to Olga for a moment, eyes squinting in
      confusion. He was not leaving... he illustrates the fact by rather 
      unceremoniously flopping down on the packed earth, head roughly pointed 
      in their direction so to still watch.
At the center, Fire-Dancer lays a paw over Olga's lap as she moves to get more
      comfortable. The wolf seems very relaxed today, and very much enjoying 
      the lack of responsibilities. For now.
At the center, Sidhefuil re-flops nearby Olga after working her muscles,
      bumping her nose against the Gnawer's knee. (She doesn't seem to take 
      offense to her thoroughly unbathed status, either.) ~Jean?~ I only know 
      that she has something Fights-for-Hopes wants to see. What does she know 
      about Chimera's children?
At the center, Olga looks quickly over to Wolf-Heart as she sees him flop down
      into the earth, and her mouth opens into an unvoiced "Ah". She draws in 
      her lips and releases them in a quiet pop, and then asks Wolf-Heart, 
      "Well, what're you doin' over there, eh? 'S cold." She turns back to 
      Sidhefuil when she bumps her knee, and dedicates one hand to scratching 
      at her, now, just lightly, near the air, getting a rhythym going between 
      the two wolves. "She's interested, 's what she says," Olga answers her. 
      "Riddles and seein' round things, she says that's what she likes about 
      it. Seems a'right to me. Told 'er I'd take it to you, and we'd go see 'er 
      together."
From the rock outcropping, Jarred makes his way down the trail from the
      northern wall of the valley.
From the rock outcropping, Jarred heads into the center.
At the center, Wolf-Heart just sort of half lays there, listening to the group.
      His eyes lazily watch on from the packed earth from where he lay, not 
      taking Olga's advice to come closer to the source of warm.
At the center, Sidhefuil seems intrigued enough and states, simply, that she
      would like to meet her, then. The Fianna wolf thoroughly enjoys the 
      scritching.
At the center, Fire-Dancer noses her snout towards the leg warmer on Olga's
      other leg, giving a sniff and a lick as she greets the Fianna. Good 
      scrticher, she comments in regard to Olga.
At the center, Olga nods her head, and looks as if she would rub wisely and
      thoughtfully at her chin, if both hands weren't occupied. "She didn' seem 
      to mind the Zoo," the Theurge comments, slowly. "Don' know if I should 
      take that as a good thing. She's either polite, earthy, or bat-fuckin' 
      crazy."
At the center, A keen eye might pick up a small patch of black fur amidst a
      nearby copse of trees and bushes. Just downwind of the group in the 
      caern's center, the Warder watches placidly.
At the center, Wolf-Heart rolls onto his stomach, creeping forward a few inches
      as he watches the two with more acute interest. He does not make any note 
      of the arrival of the Shadow Lord, though.
At the center, Sidhefuil agrees wordlessly with Fire-Dancer, craning her neck
      to gain optimal scritch-access. At Olga's last comment, the Philodox' 
      lips peel back in a wicked wolf-smile. Crazy works.
The Shadow amidst shadows -does- catch her eye, however distractedly, and she
      twists her head to regard him a moment, as if gauging his intent.
At the center, Fire-Dancer stretches as she lies against the Gnawer, another
      fierce yawn causing her maw to open widely. Fat-Ripper, heard you have 
      new cub again. How is it?
At the center, Storm-Singer's blue eyes meet the Fianna's and the Shadow Lord
      steps out from the foliage, trotting up to the gathered wolves.
At the center, Olga gives one sharp chuckle at Sidhefuil's comment on Jean's
      possible state, and she returns it with a quick scratch. She follows her 
      Alpha's eyes out towards the Caern's centre, and picks out the wolf 
      there, looking a little curious. "She's not mine, Em," she replies to 
      Fire-Dancer's question. "Well, not really; not yet. Mine in the sense I'd 
      throat anybody 'at messed with 'er, I guess, but not beyond that. 'M 
      hoping, though, she chooses the Gnawers." As Storm-Singer approaches, she 
      finally distinguishes him, and gives a half-grin and a quick nod.
At the center, Wolf-Heart scoots ever further, white Hispo whuffing out a short
      greeting to Storm-Singer Rhya.
At the center, Fire-Dancer stands up and stretches, licking over Olga's face
      once more. My stomach tells me I should find it some rabbit. I will find 
      you later Fat-Ripper. She chuffs to the others, tail swishing at Jarred 
      too, before she lopes off.
At the center, Sidhefuil rolls up on her shoulders as Storm-Singer approaches,
      and she bows her head fractionally to the Warder. Afternoon. Given any 
      more thought to terms for those who wish to challenge you?
At the center, Olga grins at first but then shuts her mouth tight to shield it
      from a lupine tongue. "That tickles, y' know," she protests 
      ineffectually, raising her arm to wipe her face free of wolf saliva. The 
      hand that had been occupied with the Get is now freed, and she applies it 
      as well to Sidhefuil's fur.
Atcen gets up and slips out of the caern.