The It (Part I)

[hazlogs]

It is currently 15:14 Pacific Time on Mon Feb 2 1998.

The northern mountain wilderness is wide and vast, certainly more than enough 
  for one Garou seeking room to run and flee her inner demons. But outer 
  demons lurk as well...

Taking a different path than usual, you come across a place that is... 
  disturbing. Though it's hard to say exactly why, except the trees all around 
  are stripped bare of bark for several meters above the ground. There's a 
  smell of death that sharpens even the cold winter air, and a half-devoured 
  deer carcass lies strewn outside the wide black entrance to a cave.

Wolf-Dancer pads towards the bark-stripped trees, cautiously, her ears and 
  nose twitching for signs of danger. She sniffs delicately at the bare 
  trunks, trying to puzzle out the strange smell in the area. All thoughts of 
  her previous problems are wiped away, as she finds a different situation to 
  occupy her mind.

The smell is... thick, heavy. Rank. A cross between bear and wolf and 
  something less pleasant, sharp and acrid and metallic. The scent of blood 
  also hits your nostrils.

Wolf-Dancer pages: From the trees, or just general area?
You paged Wolf-Dancer with 'General area, but it's strongest on the trees and 
  around the cave. The trees seem to have been scent-marked with it.'.

Wolf-Dancer recoils in distaste as the odious aroma hits her nose more fully. 
  Her nostrils flare, and she lets out a small sneeze. Thinking that place's 
  existance must be made known to the Sept, and realising that they wouldn't 
  take much notice of her in her current disgrace, Wolf-Dancer stealthily 
  creeps towards the mouth of the cave, relying on her increased senses of 
  hearing and smell to warn her of danger.

The Fianna barely takes a few steps before a thick, deep growl emits from 
  within the shadows of the cave. Though distorted, the sound is 
  understandably in wolf-speech, if gutteral and crude. Mine, says the growl.

Wolf-Dancer takes a hesitant step back, and pauses. This one wonders who you 
  are, to claim this place. Wolf-Dancer sidles to one side, towards a more 
  open space, trying to place herself away from the cave's entrance.

Rough, harsh panting from within, and then another gutteral growl. Mine, it 
  says. Go away.

This one wants to see you, to see the creature that has such a scent of 
  strength, and power. Wolf-Dancer tries to place herself in such a way the 
  area in front of the cave's mouth is in plain sight for her, but anything in 
  such a position would have to look around for her, giving her plenty of 
  chance to size up this possible threat.

Lupine ears catch the rustling sounds of something large moving within the 
  darkness, and after a moment, a massive head emerges into view. Just the 
  head, which seems equal parts wolf and bat, jackal-large ears and fanshaped, 
  sniffling, flattened nose. The huge jaw opens slightly, revealing rows of 
  sharklike teeth and a thin, pointed black tongue, but the eyes are tiny, 
  buried within the oily black fur, almost invisible. The monster snuffs the 
  air heavily and turns unerringly toward the Garou, only its head and a bit 
  of its neck visible. The Fianna catches a glimpse of what appears to be 
  barbed wire looped around its short, thick neck. It growls, drool bubbling 
  over its lips. Mine!

Wolf-Dancer gasps in shock at the sight of the beast, and steps backwards, 
  further, hackles raising, and a growl rising in her throat. What are you? 
  This one has no seen the likes of you before, and what are you doing here!

The monster's growl rises into a thick, enraged snarl, and it lunges heavily 
  out of the cave, its entire body coming into the light as it emerges. You 
  _die_!

[It]
Monster, it stands as tall as a Garou in Hispo form, though the barrel torso 
  and downward-sloping body make the creature seem rather like a hyena, if 
  only in passing. Thick legs end in widely splaying paws, unclawed but with 
  long gripping toes. The powerfully bulky shoulders support a short, thick 
  neck and a massive head that seems to have taken equal parts from wolf and 
  bat.
The creature's fur is thick and oily to the eye, dark brown with splotches of 
  black, and wrapped all around the creature are loops of thick barbed wire, 
  attached to and sprouting from the monster like a kind of vine. A vine made 
  of metal, and armed with wicked looking barbs that gleam with some kind of 
  greenish, oozing secretion.

Wolf-Dancer yelps in suprise, and backs off, gaining weight and size as she 
  does so, shifting to the near-wolf form. This one was only asking, not 
  challenging, bear-thing. Wolf-Dancer tries to keep a wide berth from it, 
  circling, until her shift is complete. She makes no move to attack, and is 
  ready to leap out of the way, if attacked herself.

It lumbers after the Garou, snapping angrily; despite the tiny, tiny eyes, it 
  seems to be well able to zero in on the Fianna's location. But it's slow, 
  slower than her, and she evades the beast easily. It snarls. All challenge! 
  You leave! Mine! You die!

Wolf-Dancer, now that she at least matches the beast in size, stops backing 
  away, and starts looking for an opening as she circles the beast. What are 
  you, bear-thing? Wyrm, or just freak? Wolf-Dancer hopes that she can 
  out-think the thing, and figures that if it is enraged, it'll be easier for 
  her.

It turns, a bit more slowly than the Fianna circles, but the wickedly barbed 
  wire wrapping its heavy frame are not encouraging. Streams of thick drool 
  slather from its flattened, toothy muzzle as it snaps its jaws at her. 
  Instead of answering her questions, it merely repeats its familiar refrain. 
  Mine! This _mine_! You leave!

Wolf-Dancer snarls, keeping her distance, for now. This one will leave, once 
  you answer her. What is that man-thing around you, the thorned vine? Who put 
  it there? Wolf-Dancer rapidly decides that enraging this thing might not be 
  a good idea, after all, and switches tactics quickly.

It lets out a bellowing roar that slams into sensitive wolfish eardrums with a 
  sensation of almost physical pain and lunges at the Garou that's intruded 
  upon its domain. You DIE!

Wolf-Dancer feels that she's made a real bad decision, staying for so long, 
  but remembers the Litany she has sworn never to break again. Her 
  grandmother's voice sounds in her head ~Combat the Wyrm, wherever it dwells 
  and wherever it breeds, Wolf-Dancer. I will aid you claws in battle.~ 
  Wolf-Dancer dodges to one side, hoping that the beast's momentum will carry 
  it past her, and prepares to bite, rip and claw the thing's hide where there 
  is no tainted metal.

Aided by her own speed and the voices of her ancestor, the Fianna manages to 
  avoid the main brunt of the monster's charge, but her claws, Rage-swift as 
  they are, catch on the barbed wire, the metallic "thorns" stabbing at the 
  Garou's paws. The monster turns as the Garou sidesteps, the great maw 
  opening to sink its teeth into her flank.

Wolf-Dancer yelps in pain as the metal rips her paw, and twists and leaps 
  backwards, trying to avoid the things evil looking bite.

The monster's jaws close on thin air, but it keeps moving, lunging for the 
  Fianna again. It seems unhurt; the blood on its barbs is not its own. Though 
  slow, the beast is relentless as a bloodhound or a pit bull. Die! Kill you! 
  Kill you!

Wolf-Dancer jumps away, shifting midleap to the War-form as she does so, 
  dancing away from the beast until the shift is complete. Snarling madly, she 
  tries to position herself so that a leap onto it's back would be possible. 
  all the while steering well clear of those monstrous jaws.

It's jaws snap on the air again, missing the swift-moving Garou, but it keeps 
  turning, facing the now-Crinos without fear, too stupid for fear. The wide, 
  sprawling paws shift in the snow, flattened muzzle gaping open as it faces 
  her, low 'hrr hrr hrr' noises uttering from the throat.

Wolf-Dancer snarls right back, baring her teeth, and snapping. She raises a 
  hand towards the beast, claws outspread, and growls brokenly in English. 
  "You die, now!" Wolf-Dancer waits for the creature to attack, ready to take 
  advantage of its lack of speed.

It moves its head, snapping the air near the outstretched hand, causing a few 
  drops of ropy saliva to snap off and spin through the air. Still growling 
  thickly, the monster crouches back on its abbreviated, hyenalike haunches, 
  lowering its center of mass. Its head moves back and forth slowly, mouth 
  gaping open.

Wolf-Dancer backs away, hand still raised, motioning for the creature to come 
  to her. Wolf-Dancer glances quicly to the floor, but only for a second, 
  looking for a rock, or something, to throw.

It lumbers forward with each step that the Fianna moves backwards, growling 
  thickly.

Wolf-Dancer loses her patience, monentarily, and quickly steps forward. She 
  slashes down at its nose, blindingly fast, whilst stepping quickly to its 
  side. Once in position, she attempts to grab a handful of wire, barbs not 
  included, and vault onto its back.

It utters an ear-shattering scream as the delicate folds of its batlike nose 
  gets slashed; the shriek, at close range, slams into the Fianna's eardrums, 
  shattering her hearing into tiny pieces. Stunned for a moment, and deafened, 
  she manages only to grab hold of the thick wire, luck alone guiding her huge 
  hand between the wicked barbs. Still shrieking, the monster swings its 
  massive weight around and slams into the stunned Crinos.

Wolf-Dancer, stunned by the sound, can only keep hold of the wire as the beast 
  slams into her static form.

The massive weight and force of the monster's slam causes the Fianna to 
  stagger and lose her balance in the snow; the barbs penetrate her coat and 
  jab into her with sharp, painful flesh wounds. The stabbing pain of this, 
  though, is nothing to the searing agony as a muzzleful of sharklike teeth 
  latches into the meaty flesh of her right leg.

Wolf-Dancer howls in pain as the beast bites her, and tries to jabe her 
  thumb-claws into the piggy-eyes of the monster on top of her, whilst 
  attempting to bite into its neck. All the while, the Fianna struggles, 
  trying to regain her footing, ready to retreat at the first opportunity, and 
  bring friends.

The Garou's claws slash mercilessly across the monster's face, destroying one 
  of the tiny eyes, but the massive jaws just bite down more deeply, grinding 
  toward the bone with a relentless chewing motion. It grips the ground with a 
  territorial strength as the back of its neck is torn slightly open, but the 
  loops of barb wire protect the oily-hided flesh from the worst that the 
  Garou can offer. Wolf-Dancer's struggles get her out from under the monster, 
  but the beast still has its hold on her lower leg, just above the 
  backwards-turning "knee" (which is truly the heel of a digitigrade creature 
  such as a Crinos).

Wolf-Dancer snarls, her eyes going to Luna in her Rage. Invigorated by the 
  sight of the moon, Wolf-Dancer pulls her leg away from the creature, in an 
  attempt to dislodge it, whilst slashing at its eyes and nose again. ~Leave 
  go of me, you bastard!~ she howls, throwing all her energy into the attack.

Two things happen almost at once: Wolf-Dancer's claws slash again at the 
  monster's face, covering her hands and the brown fur with thick red blood... 
  and the monster's jaws snap the Garou's leg, causing a wave of sickening 
  pain to arch up her body as the limb is fractured and crushed, Fianna blood 
  spurting onto the snow. Then, its nose sliced by another claw-swipe, the 
  beast screams in pain and lets go, lumbering away a few steps and shaking 
  its head rapidly from side to side; its malformed face is covered with blood 
  and torn flesh.

Wolf-Dancer almost faints from the pain, shifting to wolf-form with Rage 
  born-speed, and attempts to flee, hoping that her three good legs will 
  provide sufficient speed to escape the monster.

Sensing, somehow, that the intruder is getting away, the monster lumbers after 
  her, gaining speed the way a Mack Truck does - slowly, but with the 
  inevitable motion of an avalanche. It roars in mingled anger and pain, 
  though your deafened ears hear nothing.

And then it stops short, as though at some invisible boundry. It roars at the 
  sky again, triumphant at having driven the invader away. Mine! Mine! Mine!

Wolf-Dancer gasps in pain as she runs from the beast, unused to staggering on 
  three legs, and collapses some way away from the creature's lair. She raises 
  her muzzle to the moon, and Howls a long, mournful cry, pleading for 
  assistance.