Honoring the Enemy

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:36 Pacific Time on Wed Jun 26 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 85 degrees Fahrenheit (29 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 12 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.88 and steady, and the relative humidity is 27 percent. The dewpoint is 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (90% full).

Nightflash howls long and loud.

From National Park, Mountain Bowl, Nightflash can be heard to howl, ~Children of Luna, we gather to bid farewell to those who have fallen.~

Apocalypse finds her way to the mountain bowl as much by luck as by virtue of directions. She lopes along in wolf form, making as much noise as one might expect from an urrah, pausing every so often to sniff at things.

Jamethon appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Yi appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Nightflash is already waiting in the center of the mountain bowl. Nearby are six bodies: three homid, two metis, and a lupus. All are deformed in some way.

Apocalypse

This is an eccentric-looking wolf, white-furred and lanky and with a hint of mania in her odd, blue-lilac eyes. She's mid-range in size for her species, a bit under two and a half feet tall at the shoulder and somewhere around eighty pounds, and in general has the normal lupine body shape, all long limbs and narrow chest, with massive paws and long muzzle and furry, triangular ears.

Unfortunately, something seems to have gone wrong at the she-wolf's hind end, specifically with the tail. She has two of them, two long, hairless appendages like the result of some mad scientist deciding to cross a rat with a kitsune and then do an ass-transplant on the unlucky bitch.

Three metal rings pierce the wolf bitch's left ear, four more dangle from the right, and two glimmer from within the fur at her left brow. Though difficult to see through the fur, there seems to be some spreading, winglike pattern tattooed in black across her back and down her spine, stopping just inches from the base of that mutant double tail. Hanging around her neck is a pair of wolf-fitted little round welder's goggles, the lenses a radioactive shade of bright green.

Dane appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Apocalypse, pretty deformed herself, what with the hairless double tail and all, pulls up short to peer at the bodies. Metal glints from the Fang's ears as they swivel back, then forward again.

Quick appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Dane slips into view and looks around quietly, cocking an eyebrow as he notices the shape of the bodies.

Those who came to see the Spirals off already stand in the center of the Mountain Bowl, perhaps wondering where the leader of this ritual is. His absense leaves room for thoughts. Thoughts on who these people they gather are, were. Were they great warriors for Gaia before they stepped over to the Wyrm's embrace? Cubs, stolen to join the Dancers? Willing participants from the beginning in the foul carrion plague that is the Wyrm's purpose? These thoughts are cut short as Fights-For-Hope steps into the bowl from the north, a dotted howl from him keeps changing as he steps in slowly closing on the Gathering. First the howl is of greeting, as any would do when they step into another's territory. Soon it changes though, and the first change is to a howl of sorrow. It cries out to those who have fallen, in more ways then one.

Three-Blades' howl of introduction is carried by the wind, further from the north in the direction of Rainbow Lake. It is awhile yet, but she eventually does appear, her form condensing into view as she steps from the growing shadows in the forest to the rim of the mountain bowl. The Gnawer makes her way down slowly to the gathering.

Nightflash welcomes everyone as they enter the territory, and invites them closer. ~Tonight we send six who have fallen back to the Mother. They were Dancers of the Black Spiral. But when challenged as Garou, they fought as Garou -- with honor and with strength. They died as Garou, and so they will be sent onward as Garou, that their spirits may be freed of the corruption that tainted them in life.~

Quick skulks into the bowl, his movements more cautious than usual, and without a howl to announce his location.

Apocalypse's tails wag gently, moving not quite in synch with each other, and her eyes are bright. She's more excited than solemn, keeping quiet with difficulty.

Three-Blades pauses at the sight of the bodies. None of them she recognizes in particular, and with Nightflash's explanation of who they are, the Gnawer bristles involuntarily from the outer fringe of the group. Her ears flip back, holding a voiceless disagreement with something said.

Fights-For-Hope carries on his long strong howl that carries over Nightflash's words. Closer, his howl changes to a joyful pitch, at the childhoods these fallen may have enjoyed, or may have been denied. Closer still, till those in the center can make out his form, his voice erupts into rage and anger. At the wyrm's corruption, at the Spirals for falling into it. It is rage at all the reasons why there should never been such taint as the Spirals... yet there still is. Then finally, standing at the north of the circle his howl quiets to one of thanks. To the forgiveness of Gaia, she who will carry the souls of those so tainted back to her to be reborn. As Nightflash ends his speech so to does Fights-For-Hope end his howl. ~They fought and died as Garou. What meaning does this have? A human dies as a human, and a wolf as a wolf. How is it a Garou dies? Strength? They have strength, strength is the birthright of all Garou. Honor. Now honor is where they differ from their allies. These few held on to their honor when their coward leaders reject it. These few met death with tooth and claw on the terms of the Garou. They did not entrap, they did no trick. They used no spirit guide aside from the totem who watched over them. One other quality they held, that the cowards they fought beside did not. Courage. Were they not ensnared by the Wyrm's wicked tongue. They could have been called brothers. They challenged for Garou blood. They bled in battle. They fought till they died. They died... like Garou. Rip away your egos, tear away the hate that clouds. These bodies before you /are/ Garou. They belong to Gaia just as we do, and she now reclaims. She will punish in her own way, and then redeem. Good bye, brothers... when next we meet, we shall challenge the wyrm's minions to the death, not each other.~

Nightflash nudges Rushes-In. You were there. Speak, if you would. Remember -- all are of the Mother.

Three-Blades narrows her eyes. Nostrils flare as she takes in the scents of the gathered and the decaying bodies of the Spirals. Her gaze falls on the fallen, but break off before they can linger too long. Fights-For-Hope's speech makes her ears splay with a twinge of guilt somewhere, as well as anger. And finally, resolve to sit this Gathering through.

Rushes-In shuffles his feet a bit. I find it hard to let go of the hate in my heart for these abominnations, Nightflash-rhya, but I am trying. True, yes, they did fight as they said they would. The cub scratches the ground. I am glad I sent them back to the Mother. Hopefully the burning of Erebus will cleanse them and they may come back to the world as servants of Gaia.

Quick's lips curl, baring distainful teeth as he regards the bodies. We give them far more than they, us.

Nightflash huffs affirmatively to Quick. ~The day we cease to do so is the day we have joined them.~

Fights-For-Hope looks to the bodies now and shifts to the homid form, bones cracking into place as a violent scowl is revealed to be on his features now towards Quick. "You want something from them?"

Three-Blades can't help but snort an agreement with Quick. The bodies of our own fallen should come before... them.

Apocalypse shifts her weight restlessly from side to side. Though the Fang Metis refrains from comment, it's clear from her body language that she's in agreement with Nightflash and Fights-For-Hope.

Dane listens quietly, doing his best to remain neutral.

Quick inspects the question, as he walks around the bodies. Them? The only thing I wish from them is their death.

Nightflash says simply, ~It is given.~

Jamethon looks around and splays out his arms. "I do not see our friend's bodies here. Kyle is dead. He was one of mine! He too will return to the mother and fight once more beside us. Roger, of the Glass Walkers is dead. He too! Shall return to the mother and fight once more beside us. These before us, are all dead! And they too, shall fight once again beside us, and not before us. The Garou are inherantly born to defend Gaia, it is our purpose. It is not until the Wyrm twists us that what we see before us is born. So you reject your own bones that lay broken before you. Your own blood that has been spilt. You look into the mirror and laugh, for that couldn't possibily be you. You say that /they/ should come after our own? /THEY/ ARE OUR OWN! They have fallen, but will stand again. Scorn them for their deeds, what they were twisted to become. Despise them because they have killed, and murdered, and spread hate... but no not spread hate yourself. Do not open your heart to it, that is the path to what they have become. In the end, you must forgive. Pity them, but do not hate. They /were/ Black Spiral Dancers, but they will be Garou."

Nightflash raises his muzzle as Jamethon finishes, a low, keening howl of sadness and farewell.

Apocalypse gets caught up in the Get's empassioned speech and tips her slender muzzle upward in her own howl, crystal-clear and pure. Our own! Our own! If only they had been our brothers in Gaia, and not our enemies!

Jamethon drops to the lupus form now and calls over the gathering, carrying over Nightflash's howl. ~They however, are not yet clean. Their corpses shall be purged with flame till naught but ash remains. Farewell, we'll see you again.~ With this he finally joins in the howl that Nightflash and Apocalypse began.

Rushes-In begins a soft howl of his own.

Three-Blades lashes her tail with the Get's speech, at each of the named Gaians. The urge of the howl though, rises deep within her. The Gnawer seems reluctant to give in, but in the end her howl bursts forth to join the others. Hers is low and keening, and at first not directed to the bodies before her but for the spirits of Roger and Kyle, as well as the child and kinswoman who had fallen as well. In that flow from Gaian to Wyrm, her howl gains a bark of anger. Purify them. Burn their taint away, Mother of All, and redeem them when the final End comes.

Nightflash's howl dies off, and he steps back to let Jamethon finish the Rite in fire.

Apocalypse lets her voice trail off slowly, then turns her gaze toward the Get of Fenris, eyes glitteringly bright.

Quick paces around, looking furiously at the bodies, then at the others. We praise our enemies. My howl is for more to join them. And eventually he tosses up a prideful howl.

Jamethon rises back to the homid form and from his jacket he pulls forth a metal flask. "Gather the bodies before me in a pyre. A pyre that will burn brightly. Let it be a warning. We may forgive them after death, but they are still before then, our enemies and defile our caern. When they are cleansed, by silver or blood, they will be judged worthy of forgiveness."

Dane nods slowly at that and shifts up so he can help, if needed, pile the bodies.

Nightflash also shifts up so that he can carry the bodies to the pyre which has, amazingly enough, already been built off to one side.

Apocalypse rises up on two legs, reverting to Crinos form as she moves to help.

Quick joins the other Crinos in removing the bodies from the insulted patch of earth onto the pyre.

Gaia-Will-Judge studies the ground around the pyre after the bodies are on it and grunts softly as he steps back.

Three-Blades helps out last, dragging one unceremoniously onto the batch in her crinos form as well before returning to lupus and looking about. Somehow, starting a fire out here just doesn't sit well with her.

Hope-Star appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Jamethon steps up before the bodies, now gathered together, and opens the vial. From inside comes a strong smelling alcohol, like a moonshine or something similar. James splashes it on the bodies and it actually sizzles where it touches decaying flesh, giving off an oversweet vodka-like fragrance. "Step away." He orders and as those around follow instruction, he walks around the pyre, making sure the ground around it has been cleared properly and that a border of stones has been placed and is unbroked. Satisfied that it is safe he draws a zippo lighter now from his jacket and flicking it open and lighting it up in one smooth motion, he tosses it onto the bodies. They blaze up quickly, yet not with any kind of explosive force, the alcohol being consumed in a matter of seconds. James then changes to the crinos form. ~Gaia! Take from them their taint! Cleanse the blight that is within their souls! Claim them and when they are ready, return them to us as brothers!~ One final howl comes from the Get of Fenris, a short one to Gaia. Quieter now, Fights-For-Hope continues. ~Now, let this be a warning to all others who dance the Spiral. A warning that they too, will be cleansed.~

Little Bear appears at the edge of the bowl, from the surrounding mountains.

Apocalypse bares her teeth in a lethal Crinos grin, clawed feet scuffing the earth as she step-step-steps, dancingly, close to the bonfire, a little closer than is perfectly safe. When Jamethon howls, the Fang howls, too, bright and clear.

Hope-Star and Little Bear arrive sometime during the proceedings, slipping in from the north, as darkness falls on the forest. The Strider's howl answers the Ritemaster's, and then she pads soberly to Yi's side.

Gaia-Will-Judge joins in this howl, offering his support to the Ritemaster's sentiments.

Little Bear lets his trail slightly behind and above his alpha's as he too makes his way to his packmate. He stays between the Gnawer and the Strider, bumping each in turn.

Fights-For-Hope grabs a large stick and sits, pokeing at the fire every now and again. ~I will tend the flames till all that is left are their teeth. The rest of you may do as you like. Thank you for being here.~

Little Bear noses his alpha, eyeing the flames with an inscrutable expression. He looks to his other quiet packmate curiously.

Apocalypse seems to be in no hurry to leave. Hunkering down onto her haunches, she looks over at Nightflash with admiration. ~So, they really really fuckin' came out, straight and direct, when your pack called 'em out?~

Hope-Star gives Jamethon a grim but approving dip of the muzzle, and turns back to the company. Her attention seems directed towards Nightflash, even before the question is asked. She seems to be chewing something over before intruding, however.

Rushes-In chuffs. They did, yes, he affirms to Apocalypse.

Nightflash affirms to Apocalypse. ~They did. They answered our call, they presented their terms. We accepted. And we fought.~

Three-Blades just turns her gaze away from the flames, chuffing once to both packmates. Though there is a remote interest in what Nightflash and Apocalypse are saying to each other, the Gnawer stays on the edge of those gathered. She howled her piece already, but somehow it was unsatisfying.

Apocalypse squints her eyes closed, ears splaying in an expression of bliss. Then she twists herself back down into a wolf's shape and lowers her front end in a bow in Nightflash's direction. I must hear this in detail! What a perfect story!

Nightflash looks curious at Apocalypse. ~I remember you. You were with us when we attacked from the Umbra. I do not know you, however. I am Nightflash, ahroun of the Children of Gaia and leader of the pack Reforged, child of the black unicorn.~

Quick skulks around the bonfire, his tail lashing in dissatisfaction.

Hope-Star gives Three-Blades a concerned nudge. Don't you go dark on me. Little Bear, hear this tale. It matters. And it gives hope for the next battle. I am here to speak of /that/.

Apocalypse straightens up, ears splayed and muzzle gaping in a tongue-lolling grin. ~I am Defies-the-Apocalypse, Galliard of the First Tribe, though my dam and sire shamed that tribe by creating me. I came from the Sept of the Green because I heard about your caern, and wanted to help.~ Amazingly, she manages to get through the entire introduction without a single vulgarity.

Nightflash says, ~Then you will be welcome, for we are in great need.~ He looks around at everyone else. ~Those who would hear this story, approach. Those who have heard enough, I bid swift running. You have my gratitude. I know this was not... easy.~

Apocalypse's tails wag. She pads a little closer to the Gaian lupus and flumps down onto her belly, forelegs stretched out in front of her, head up, pierced ears erect.

Three-Blades budges not an inch at the Strider's nudge, looking up at the mention of the next battle. And moreso at Apocalypse, now that she's had a chance to get a good look at the metis Fang. She blinks some more, before chuffing a brief greeting to the Fang, noting she'd seen Apocalypse in action as well. One of her ears turns to Nightflash, then her gaze.

Gaia-Will-Judge decides he's going to hear the story, as evidenced by his moving to sit attentively and listen to the elder of his tribe.

Fights-For-Hope seems to straighten up as Nightflash announces he will tell the story, but doesn't turn from the fire which is his cleansing ritual for the fallen.

Hope-Star observes the rather ugly Fang intently, as she introduces herself, and takes a wary sniff. Guardedly, she offers her own introduction: Hope-Star, Strider Seer and elder. Alpha of Salmon's Leap. Her posture clearly indicates those flanking her. Then she settles down sphinx-fashion to listen, ears turns towards the Gaian. She does not draw near.

Apocalypse makes pleased acknowledging noises at the Strider before focussing her attention again on Nightflash, eager for the tale.

Gaia-Will-Judge nods at the metis who fought at his side against the scrags.

Little Bear stays next to his alpha, listening as his ears flick anoyedly at whateve rsmall gnats are buzzing around him.

Quick turns hungrily towards the Gaian, poised to listen to the tale of how the Dancers met their reward.

Nightflash sits back on his haunches. ~My pack and Serendipity of the Furies went to the bald hill south of the bawn, in the territory we claimed before the caern was lost. There, I howled a challenge to the Defilers. I called them out as Garou, I told them we had come for their blood, and challenged them to send their strongest pack to meet us, if they dared. Then we passed into the Umbra, that they be unable to hurl silver at us from afar, as they so often do when we approach.~

Nightflash says, ~Our challenge was quickly answered. They approached us in the Umbra, ten in all. We marvelled at their numbers. Insults were exchanged. Their alpha, the female, said that their pack numbered only six. The remaining four were there, she said, to witness the pathetic defenders of Gaia.~ He flicks an ear, dismissing the insult. ~We had at least as much to say about them. She accepted my challenge, and as challenged declared her terms: we would fight in this world, not in the Umbra. And,~ here is hackles raise, ~they would feed on any of us that fell.~

Hope-Star's ears flatten against her skull. She is utterly motionless; this tale is being committed to memory, and her attention is fully on the ahroun, grave and quiet.

Three-Blades growls lowly, casting a glance back at the fire of the dead Dancer bodies before snorting and turning back to listen.

Little Bear bares teeth, but makes not a sound, listening intently.

Apocalypse listens, utterly rapt.

Fights-For-Hope pokes harshly at the fire every now and again, stirring flame back to life where it sputters out. Occasionally he splashes some think alcohols from his flask onto the fire, causing short bursts upon contact. Tiny embers occasionally leap onto the Get's body and sizzle into his skin, but they are ignored by the Get deep in his almost meditative tending of the pyre.

Nightflash says, ~I explained our reason for choosing the Umbra, and their alpha agreed that silver would not be used. I considered, and decided -- perhaps foolishly -- to trust her. I accepted her terms, but demanded that those not of her pack remain at the base of the hill. Luna's face was bright, and I wanted no interference from her witnesses. She agreed. We returned to this world. The battle itself was short and terrible. Three of us fell, only to rise again in fury. Each of us, even Rushes-In, our youngest, slew one of our enemies. The last was torn apart between several of us.~

Rushes-In preens his torn fur, where he still has healing wounds.

Hope-Star rises to her feet. You give us hope for the coming battle, Nightflash.

Apocalypse turns pale lilac eyes toward Rushes-In, huffing admiration at the young Garou. And more admiration on his fellows.

Nightflash finishes, ~Those at the base of the hill looked on in horror. We gave them the opportunity to flee, we collected the bodies, and then we fled the hilltop. Those that had accepted our challenge had fought us honorably, but we had no assurances that their allies would be so noble. And so, all of us wounded, we returned here, to heal.~ He looks, finally, toward the burning bodies. ~All of us to heal.~ He dips his head to Hope-Star and lays down on the ground.

Gaia-Will-Judge nods thoughtfully.

Fights-For-Hope speaks now, showing his was listening but still not looking away from the flames that torment his eyes. "Hope is what we fight for. We will win the coming battle. Rushes-In do you not think it is perhaps time for a new name? You are worthy of one."

Hope-Star inclines her muzzle formally to the Gaian. Then she turns to the others. Let all spread word of this victory.

Little Bear chuffs an affirmative.

Three-Blades flicks her ears back, then forward as the recollection finishes with a victorious pack of Garou and the death of the twisted ones. Her manner is approving, though vague with thought at Nightflash's story. Were you followed? she asks in a short whuff.

Nightflash says, ~I do not believe so.~ He seems unworried at the concept. ~We are easy enough to track. The smell of blood was strong. We have made no secret of our location. If they wish to find us, they will do so.~

Rushes-In licks his muzzle and thinks. He looks to Nightflash. What do you think, Nightflash-rhya?

Apocalypse squints her eyes closed like a happy cat and whuffles to herself thoughtfully. Bits and drabs of speech escaping indicate that she's going back over the tale in her head, working it into her memory.

Nightflash says, ~I think a new name is appropriate. You are no longer a cub. You have suffered your first real wounds, and you have made your first real kill.~ He looks to the galliards. ~Who will give him a name?~

Hope-Star watches the newest cliath with a gleam in her eye. This, too, is a sign of hope for her.

Little Bear cocks his head, studying the cub. Maybe Bitter ~Cup~ should have that honor.

Fights-For-Hope nods absently to Little Bear's words, still tending his flames, the bodies slowly starting to finally disappear into ash.

Apocalypse snaps her eyes open and chuffs out the first thing that comes to mind. Born-in-Fire.

Nightflash looks down at Born-in-Fire. ~How fitting. Rides-the-Wave-of-Fire and Wildfire will be pleased. Perhaps I need a new name as well.~

Apocalypse lolls her tongue out. Fire is a good thing to invoke. Fire cleanses. Fire burns, like Rage.

Gaia-Will-Judge rumbles agreement and approval of the name.

From afar, to the room, Nightflash snickers.

Hope-Star tilts an ear towards the youngster.

Little Bear narrows his eyes, studying Nightflash at the mention of a new name. What is it they call the fire that burns on the mountaintop, to lead those lost in the dark?

Hope-Star growls grudgingly, ~The Beacon.~

Fights-For-Hope answers as well, still not looking from the fire. ~Or a signal fire.~

Three-Blades sweeps an ear back, agreeing with Little Bear about the naming issue, though it's really not up to her. The newmoon Gnawer does whuff in amusement at the similarities. Her glance to her Wendigo packmate's question makes an ear splay. ~A bonfire?~

Little Bear nods in a most unwolfish fashion. ~ Beacon Fire. ~

Nightflash shifts his paws on the ground uncomfortably. ~I fear that such a name me be seen as presumption.~

Hope-Star suggests Night-fire. Your own name already holds flame. Then she lifts one paw from the ground slightly in the lupine equivalent of a cleared throat.

Three-Blades swishes her tail over the ground. You have Born-in-Fire. Then a Wildfire. Then one who Rides-the-Wave-of-Fire. She scuffs a paw on the ground. ~Out-of-the-Frying Pan~ and ~Into-the-Fire.~

Gaia-Will-Judge snorts and covers his muzzle as he tries to suppress his reaction to that one.

Little Bear's tongue lolls in amusement.

Quick turns from the discussion of fire to Hope-Star, his ears alert.

Apocalypse lets out a short, yipping howl of laughter at Three-Blades.

Nightfire bows his head again to Hope-Star. ~So it shall be.~ Three-Blades' reference gets only a puzzled whine from the silver wolf.

Hope-Star's tail flicks slightly at her packmate's humor, more at the Gnawer sounding like herself, than at the joke, which the Strider may well not understand. Then she sobers. I need word spread to the sept. News travels slowly, and we have very little time.

Fights-For-Hope growls deeply at Three-Blades, perhaps hiding how humorous he thought it was with annoyance with being presented with humor and wanting to laugh while he performs his solumn rite.

Nightfire chuffs softly. ~You are correct. Is there more you wish of me?~

Little Bear stands, shaking. I am here.

Three-Blades lets her tongue slip between her teeth. There really isn't much of a way she can explain the reference. But with her most solemn tone she rumbles simply, It means you are brave and unafraid to face the flames. She glances around at the others, before lowering her gaze down and away.

Apocalypse's ears perk forward at the Strider's mention of news, and she sits up alertly.

Hope-Star needs to know what talens you wish for the Realm-assault, ahroun, for you have led well. And my pack has something to offer. But first--

The Strider turns to the others. Let all know that our Rite of the Silver Forge succeeded, three of those we named have been lost, and the foe was thrown into confusion. They have put off their rite until the half-moon. We strike then. Tell the sept: Get ready. Gather with your packmates. Turn all your thought towards how you can fight best, anything you can do to prepare. Bring good ideas to elders. If you have no pack, seek others to fight beside, and plan with them. In this battle, we /will/ take back our home.

Gaia-Will-Judge lets out a happy yip at the news of the success of the Rite.

Apocalypse stares at Hope-Star for a moment, letting the news sink in. Then she leaps to her feet, throws back her head, and howls in glee. Yes! Yes yes yes yes!

Nightfire looks relieved.. ~That /is/ welcome news. As for assaults, I have not yet spoken with the other ahroun of the sept. There may be no realm assault, we may strike as one.~

Little Bear nods to Hope-Star, pacing. One ear flicks repeatedly in what may be a nervous tick. And I call ~ Wendigo ~ tomorrow at dusk.

Fights-For-Hope calls over his shoulder once more. "I need someone to summon Chimera for me, if this is possible. I have an idea only for her to know. The words cannot leave my lips before Chimera hears them."

Three-Blades yips once at the good news, but is still definitely reminded of that battle. What of the black slime monster? Is there a plan to stop it? Her gaze goes to Jamethon, accompanied by a tilt of her head.

Hope-Star will be with you, Little Bear, and Fights-for-Hope, I will assist if I can. Nightfire-- if we fight in the Realm, I will make talens to pierce their darkness and aid eyes. If not, I shall let the spirits rest. But this my pack offers. If Andrea judges it wise, Salmon can flood the caern, to disrupt the foe's rite and surprise them.

Little Bear chuffs an affirmative to Yi. Bitter ~ Cup ~ and her pack go to find a purity spirit to fight it.

Nightfire will leave that to you and to her. ~Decisions regarding rituals and spirits re best left to those who know them best.~

Hope-Star inclines her head. This is so. But decisions on the realm, and battle strategy, are best left to the ahrouns. /If/ we fight there, this is one more tool for you to use. She drops back to her haunches then. That's all. I will confer with Bitter Cup when we have faced Wendigo.

Fights-For-Hope nods to the flame. ~Thank you Sepdet-Rhya. Tonight has been illuminating.~ No pun intended. ~We will win, I feel it in the night air. The air. Yes... there is something in the night.~

Little Bear growls under his breath, if we still live. He shakes again, and moves to bump Three-Blades affectionately.

Three-Blades looks a little comforted by that piece of news. She had her doubts and fears there. But, there is still a short whine of concern from her about the multiple spirits in the Umbra. And to her Wendigo packmate, she bumps back.

Quick cannily gathers up this information and skulks off into the night.

Hope-Star settles by Three-Blades. The battle will be hard, sister, but it will be won. To Nightflash, she notes soberly: I have also sent out the call to all my tribesmates in this part of the world to give any assistance they can to Western Eye. We are fighting a war on two fronts.

Apocalypse lapses into silence again. Uncharacteristic, perhaps, but the metis is turning the tale of Reforged against the Dancers back over in her head.

Little Bear walks a circle around Three-Blades and bumps Hope-Star in turn.

Nightfire's tail droops when Hope-Star speaks again. ~So I have heard. We must win this battle quickly, that we can send aid.~

Three-Blades licks at the tip of her nose and rises to her paws. Will the traps in the Scab be needed?

Hope-Star growls. We aid by winning here.

As the bodies burn away from the group, little is left by now except for tattered flesh covered bones. The scent of burning fur and flesh is mostly covered with the sweet scent of whatever liquor Fights-For-Hope used on the fire, but can still be picked up by Lupine noses. When the two metis skulls are fully revealed, Fights-For-Hope uses the large stick to remove them from the flames. ~The two canine fangs from these shall be of use to us.~ He says, almost cryptically to those not understanding what he speaks of.

Hope-Star shoots the Get theurge an oblique look as she considers the Gnawers' question. My heart says they will not strike at the city again before their Rite; they do not want to risk losing more. But I cannot be certain. You must weigh the risk and decide whether you need those places.

Three-Blades splays her ears and dips her muzzle to the adren's words. Scabwolves will be scabwolves, as it goes for the Gnawer ragabash thinking furiously of what she could bring as aids.

Little Bear seems content to let the others do the planning, sticking as close to his packmates as possible.

Gaia-Will-Judge rises to his feet and shifts down as he walks thoughtfully out of the bowl.

Three-Blades finally gives herself a shake and chuffs to her packmates. She will be heading back. At Jamethon and Nightfire, her muzzle dips once, and turns to go.

Little Bear seems to think everything that could be said has been. He tags along behind Yi.

Hope-Star dips her eyes to those here, respect duly offered to Nightflash and his pack, then slips out with her own packmates.

Fights-For-Hope stirs the pyre as all that is left is brightly burning bone, and the ash it is slowly joining. He has a dominant posture, almost chalenging the flames with it.