Cleaning up the Caern

[hazlogs]

Date: A day or so after the Sept has won back the caern.
Place: Burial Mounds

Rides-Fire has wearily curled in a hollow protected by the nearby boulder. In wolf-form and the color of shadow, the Stargazer does not attract the eye at first.

Adrian walks into the site again, looking around. Memories of last night flood his head. He touches teh spot on his forehead where he was annoited and steps over to one of the graves. He kneels down and lets his fingers drag across the fresh soil.

Apocalypse wanders into the area, limping somewhat, hauling a mostly-full bag of trash, showing bloody bandages on arms and legs and in general still moving stiffly. She's got an ear missing, too. Her mood's cheery, though, and she sings to herself as she stumps along. "...Gonna wash that Wyrm right outta my caern, gonna wash th' fuckin' Wyrm right outta my caern, gonna wash that fucker right outta my caern, 'n kick him in the aaaaaass!"

Adrian stands quickly as the other person enters. The young man moves back to the treeline defensively.

Apocalypse stops at the edge of the clearing and lets the bag hit the ground near her flipflop-shod feet. Brushing pale, sweaty hair off her forehead, the Fang scans over the area, checking for errant trash that someone might have missed.

Adrian moves behind a tree, quietly watching the woman, sizing her up.

Apocalypse notices not the lupus Stargazer, nor the cub in hiding. She does, however, spot some marker stones that are still, ugh, visibly 'marked' near the edge of the area and pulls a face. "Dammit. Need some scrubbing fucking bubbles. Shit." She starts limping around, generally poking around.

Rides-Fire's good ear flicks once as he hears a voice. Watchfully, his eyes open, despite his doze and he tests the air.

Adrian kneels down as quietly as possible and just watches the Fang. He looks around at what she's doing. Like her, he still hasn't seen the lupus either.

Apocalypse is, apparantly, one of those people who continues to chatter on even when alone and keeps up a commentary in broad New York tones. "Turnin' th' place inta fuckin' Times Square after fuckin' New Years, though, c'mon, shitfuck, /that/ wouldn't be so fuckin' bad. You can fuckin' /sweep/ paper, and it's biodegradable, right?" She stops short and pulls a face as a particularly messy bit of Dancer leavings. "Not that /that/ isn't fuckin' biodegradeable too, but, ugh. What th' fuck was it /eating/?" She digs into the bulging pockets of her eye-searing jams, wincing a bit, and pulls out a pair of gloves and a plastic bag. She kneels down and starts getting it up. "Green? /Green/? Why is it always fuckin' /green/?"

Adrian grimaces and peers around the tree to see what she's talking about. Like a car wreck that one hears about, he's gotta see it as well. However, he's not as graceful as he would like to be and inadvertently falls out from behind the tree with an "umph". He looks up at the girl with wide eyes.

Apocalypse straightens up quickly, then winces. "Ow." She wipes at her forehead with a bare arm, blinks a bit at Adrian, and then gives him a broad grin. "Good fuckin' morning."

Adrian smiles a bit, a flash of embaressment, "Morning, ma'am" He stands and brushes himself off, trying despretely to regain some composure.

Apocalypse finishes cleaning up the Dancermess and ties off the bag. "Hey, I didn't wake ya up, did I?"

Adrian smiles and runs his fingers through his long blonde hair, pulling it back from his face. "No, ma'am. I was just here paying my respects and didn't know if you were safe or not." He stands tall, well as tall as a 16 year old can.

Rides-Fire's pink tongue curls in a yawn. Finally, giving up his nap as a bad job, he pushes to his paws and moves toward the cleaners.

Adrian jumps back a bit when he sees the wolf seemingly appear from nowhre, "Shit!" He catches his breath and stands tall again.

Apocalypse hehs. "I'm safe if ya ain't a fuckin' scrag." She limps back toward the /big/ garbage bag, stripping off the gloves as she does so. "Defies the Apocalypse, Silver Fang Galliard, Metis, Cliath, yadda fuckin' ya 'n all that shit." She stops as Rides emerges from hiding and wiggles fingers in a wave.

Rides-Fire looks over Apocalypse in return, his tail raising as he takes his time with his perusal. He chuffs in return to her wave, then turns toward the cub he startled. His nostrils again flare as he inspects Adrian.

Adrian watches the two, a bit warily, "I'm no scrag, whatever that is. I'm Adrian, named Stonehenge by Jamethon-rhya. Get of Fenris Skald cub." The cub eyes the wolf some more.

Apocalypse stuffs the smaller bag into the bigger one and lays the soiled gloves on top. "It'sa fuckin' Wyrm spirit. Ugly motherfucker that can make ya froth out if ya fuckin' ain't careful." She pauses. "Skald. Skald, skald, skald. Oh, wait, I fuckin' know this one. Theurge?"

Rides-Fire comments to Apocalypse, You are unlike any other child of the Falcon that I know. Turning his amber gaze back to Adrian, he asks forthrightly, Can you understand me?

Apocalypse practically beams at Rides-Fire. "Thanks!"

Adrian smiles and shakes his head, "No, Galliard. Tale spinner and moon singer, just like yourself, rhya" He looks at the wolf again, "Yeah, I've learned how to communicate. I'm still learning those, so I can't conjugate verbs in lupus form yet or anything." He smiles. He looks at the Fang, "Wha'cha doin'?"

Rides-Fire seems puzzled, though at which response seems uncertain. From the looks he's giving both Garou, possibly both. He does go on to say, I am called Rides-the-Wave-of-Fire, born of wolf under the fullest moon, to the line of those that watch the night sky. I follow the Horned One, in pack ~Reforged.~

Adrian cocks his head, "OK, he's an Ahroun, but I missed the Tribe. Damn, this is hard." He scratches his head.

Apocalypse dumps herself on the ground, sitting crosslegged and making a minor 'ow' noise as the abrupt motion aggravates still-healing flesh. "Right now? Takin' five. Before? Tryin' to make some headway in th' fuckin' shit around th' caern, and god /damn/ but I wish that wasn't half literal." She rubs at the scarred, holey area where her right ear used to be and looks over at Rides. "Oh, you're wit' Nightfire 'n suchlike, yeah? Lupus Gazer?" She sounds impressed. "I fuckin' didn't think your tribe /had/ any wolf-born."

Rides-Fire seems to struggle with that. Finally he shifts up to hispo and requests, ~If you can speak the Mother Tounge, it will make it easier for me to understand you.~ Turning back to Adrian, he says, ~My tribe is named the Stargazers, though most of them have left, and we are no longer recognized as a tribe in the Council of Elders.~ His tail drops a little as he admits this. ~As Defies-the-Apocalypse indicates, there are few wolf-born in my line. I chose to stay with my pack rather than abandon the war with the rest.~

Adrian nods a bit, taking the info in, "I've never heard much of teh tribes yet, still waiting to be taught about them all."

"Oh, duh, stupid fuckin' me," says the Fang, and stretches upward into a taller, hairier version of herself, switching to the Mother Tongue like she was born to it. Which she probably was. ~Hey, fucking good for you,~ she says to Rides-Fire. ~Guy I knew, at the Sept of the Green, was really fuckin' upset when Teardrop-rhya headed east. Good t'see some'a you folks stuck around.~

Rides-Fire twitches his good ear wryly at Adrian. ~I am the only one of my tribe that you are likely to meet.~ Turning back to the Silver Fang, he chuffs acknowledgement, then says simply, ~I came here to find my way, in this place of all the tribes. My way is not to withdraw.~

Apocalypse thrusts a hand, thumb-up, at the Stargazer, teeth bared in a cheerful, unhesitatingly genial grin. ~Bitchin'.~

Rides-Fire gives Apocalypse another puzzled look, though he doesn't seem angry. Forthrightly, he says, ~You speak like a Bone Gnawer. They often use words I don't understand, even in this tongue.~

Adrian chuckles as he quietly watches the two garou talk.

Apocalypse continues to grin, unabashedly. ~Yeah. Grew up around 'em at the Green in New York City. Don't figure you've ever been there.~

Rides-Fire indicates he has not. He then adds, ~I am aware of the place, though. When I came from the mountains across the great water, to this land, I came to the land on the other side. One of my line, Looks-Twice, guided me in the ways of this land. He mentioned it; he had been there.~

Apocalypse is nodding as the Stargazer gets near the end of his answer. ~Yeah. Anyway, th' Green is run by Gnawers. It's Alpha, a Theurge named Mother Larissa, is pretty fuckin' /ancient/. I probably woulda fuckin' ended up a Gnawer except that there was this Fang from Jolly Ol' England who was all like, 'fuck NO' about it 'n straightened me out.~ She grins. ~A little.~

Adrian sits down and continues to watch, not interrupting.

Rides-Fire seems amused. ~How do you find your tribe here?~

~A fuckin' good bunch'a Garou,~ answers the metis, firmly. ~I mean, Sterling is a little, ya know, /stiff/, but that's like complainin' that a Red Talon is, ya know, a little feral.~ She grins. ~They're good people. Don' get me fuckin' wrong, I /like/ my tribe. Blood of kings, up in front, glowin' like th' sun and callin' the Wyrm out for a coward, an', ya know, bein' inspiring.~

Adrian speaks quietly, "Blood of Kings?"

Rides-Fire seems satisfied with that, though he adds, ~Fire runs very low in Sterling, or did when I scented her in the woods more often, when she wished to be a Guardian. We were both of the first rank, and I attempted to establish dominance. She did not respond at all.~ The lupus snorts, disgusted, then adds, ~Now, since I am a fostern, it is of little question.~ He allows the Silver Fang to answer Adrian.

Apocalypse tilts her head at the Get cub. ~Yeah. Silver Fangs, we're the First Tribe, the first Alphas. Royalty, ya might fuckin' say. We even have kings.~ She scratches at the back of her neck. ~Jonas Albrect's on the throne for the New York state area, currently, and thank fuckin' Gaia for /that/. His granddaddy, Morningkill, was startin' to go 'round th' fuckin' bend, and no disrespect meant t'him. He just lived too long.~

Adrian nods a bit, he speaks earnestly, not disrespectful, "Kings are good, I guess. I'm told in teh Get of Fenris, we have Gods though, like Thor."

Rides-Fire comments to Adrian, ~Traditionally, the Silver Fangs have led, as she says. Your tribe have traditionally been their supporters. It is a saying that the Get of Fenris are the strong right arm of the Silver Fangs. Like all sayings, it is not always true, but it often is.~

Apocalypse nods. ~The Get have always been our fuckin' buddies, yeah. Lots of Fang kings in the past with a Get hero at his side. Or her side. Heh.~

Adrian smiles and nods, "Me, be a hero? Cool!" The cub kinda beams.

Apocalypse leans back on her hands and grins up at the cub. ~Kid, we're /all/ heroes. Didn't they tell ya? We're /all/ fuckin' heroes. Or got th' potential t'be.~

Rides-Fire's posture again shades to amusement. He also mentions to Adrian, ~I have packed with two of your line. Finds-the-Lost has gone from this place, but Wildfire is my packmate.~

Adrian nods, "Last night was....sad, but cool. All those folks who dies protecting us and stuff. Even a cub like me..." He looks to RF, "That's Owen, right?"

Rides-Fire chuffs agreement. He then adds, ~To die in glory is the end any Garou wishes. In wisdom, we do all we can to delay that day, so we may fight again and again, but when the end takes us, we take our enemies with us.~

Apocalypse's gaze shifts over toward the new additions to the burial mounds, and for a moment her mood turns solemn. ~Gone with Gaia, gone /to/ Gaia.~ She puts a hand on her heart, reverential, then adds, ~Fuckin' A.~

Adrian nods a bit to RF. "I have a lot to learn"

Rides-Fire understands. ~You are a cub. Learn well; your tribe tests among the most harshly.~ His ear splays out in a lupine smile. ~It is not easy, to be a hero.~

Adrian nods, "I keep hearing that. I've been lucky so far, no can of whoop ass unleashed on me. I'm learning though. Hell, we already have a cub pack started and I'm ALpha." The cub looks proud of this announcement.

Rides-Fire seems interested. ~What are the names of your packmates?~

Apocalypse seems interested in this as well; she cocks a smile up at the Get cub.

Adrian looks up, obviously thinking, "We number three at this point, Myself, Aiyana, and Lyra. Were hoping some of the other elders will let cubs of their tribe join. Were called Gaia's Own. Were packed together to watch out for each other and train together. We know it's not a real pack, but we thought, why wait?"

~Sounds like fuckin' good practice,~ says Apocalypse. ~'Specially if they let'cha Rite together, too.~

Rides-Fire's ear flicks, as he asks, ~Do they of you have cub-names, yet. I cannot say human names in this form. Stonehenge is a strange name, but I understand its meaning. In lupus, I would call you as this:~ Shifting back to the less formal speech, he continues, Place-of-Stones.

Adrian looks to the Fang, "Weve thought about that possibility, yes. Someone even said although were not a real pack, some Totems like Unicorn may appreciate what were doing and favor us early." The young blonde smiles and looks to Rides Fire, "Lya is known as "Four-Leaves" and Aiyana is called "Fights-While-She-Dances" as for me, Stonehenge means more then a place of stones, I'm named because I'll withstand time, plus I'm a little mysterious.

Rides-Fire answers, ~There is no word for spirit in the true wolf language.~ Wryly, he adds, ~It makes many theurge deed-names difficult.~ Again switching, he says, Ageless-Stones?

Apocalypse offers up a little snicker. ~Gnawers an' Walkers are the only ones makin' up new words for th' Mother Tongue anymore.~

Adrian can't help but laugh, "Sure, my stones are ageless." He laughs harder, "My cub name sounds like a porn name."

Apocalypse adds, ~Or in wolf-talk.~

Rides-Fire seems confused at the humor, his tailtip twitching as his ear cocks forward.

Adrian laughs harder and falls back holding his abs.

Apocalypse barks a donkeylike laugh. When she calms down, she explains the joke to the lupus. ~'Stones' is slang-talk for 'testicles' amoung humans and homids.~

Rides-Fire wrinkles his nose. Finally settling to his haunches, he says, ~I used to think Finds-the-Lost was the way he was because he was a ragabash. Knowing Wildfire, and now you, I am beginning to think the sense of humor is true for your tribe.~ He turns back toward Apocalypse and flicks his ear, acknowledging but still puzzled. ~I suppose they are smooth, like a stone, he says. Though they are not nearly as hard. But it is not the oddest term I have learned. But still, Ageless-Claws would not raise such humor. Why does he find his testicles so amusing?~

Apocalypse grins like a loon. Or a lunatic. ~It's a homid-slash-human thing. Genitals are funny.~

Adrian nods, "Nuts are funny yes, especially when your cub name involves them."

Rides-Fire snorts, though he's finally seeming more amused than puzzled. ~This has to do with your breed's fascination with terms concerning mating, yes?~

Adrian laughs a bit, "Not really. Mating is damn serious business I'm told, not that I known, I'm too young." He suddenly laughs harder.

~Hey,~ says Apocalypse good-naturedly. ~Wolves would be fuckin' obsessive 'bout it, too, if they could go into heat year 'round.~

Adrian nods to the Fang with a big smile on his face.

Rides-Fire wrinkles his nose. ~What an awful thought. Cubs would be born in the dying seasons, and it would be distracting to the pack. The struggles are always worst when the bitches are in season.~ Musingly, he adds, ~I wonder if growing up that way is why manborn have such a hard time understanding their place in things.~

Apocalypse scratches at some of the scar tissue around where her ear used to be. ~Maybe. I dunno, I'm just a fuckin' halfbreed. Heh.~

Adrian looks at the Gazer, "Our place in things?" He cocks his head, inquisitively.

With a handcrafted wineskin in one hand and a large natural sponge in the other, Jamethon Ethan Black in glabro approaches the mounds. ~More that their parents weren't taught the proper way of things, so in turn could not teach their children. I bet you'd be suprised, Rides-Fire, but there are humans out there who care more about wolves and nature, then their own laws. Not all embrace the Weaver.~

Adrian sees Jamethon and stands quickly, almost as if at attention. "Jamethon-rhya" the cubs speaks respectfully and lowers his eyes in submission of his elder.

Rides-Fire turns back to the cub. ~It is not true of all man-born,~ he answers. ~But many struggle against the results of dominance, feeling resentful at a loss, as if there is something shameful in their place in the pack. I had never thought of it before, but since your packs must be always disrupted by the season time, it must be harder to realize that some things can be accepted in grace.~ He chuffs as he turns toward Jamethon. ~I know,~ he answers. ~If I thought all humans embraced the Weaver, I would have never been able to follow Unicorn, because I would agree with the Red Talons that they should all be destroyed.~ His claws dig into the soil, not unimpressive in his current form. With some effort at staying calm, he adds, ~But they are not of our Enemy, not entirely. Only those that embrace it and harm us are to be killed.~

Apocalypse, sitting on the ground near a big bag of trash, tilts her face up toward the arriving Get and offers up a cheerful, ~Heya.~

Jamethon simply nods to this and seeming to spot Adrian finally, walks over to his cub, towering over him so very high. Handing over the wineskin and the sponge he states in the oh so gutteral voice of the Glabro, "Good to see you are here, make use of these." With this he turns his head towards Apocalypse, eyes narrowing slightly, ~Greetings, Defier.~

Apocalypse sketches off a salute. The Fang may be at rest, but her sweaty appearance, bandages and all, plus the trash bag are indications that she hasn't been idle. ~G'morning!~

Adrian takes the sponge and wineskin and looks around and then to his elder, "What am I suppossed to clean, Sir? The trees?" He speaks earnestly, not sarcastically. he watches Jamethon for an answer.

Jamethon just shrugs to the cub, "You'll think of something, I'm sure. Oh, and don't breath in from the skin too closly."

Apocalypse points, helpfully. ~That stone over there looks a little fucked up, still.~

Adrian nods to the elder Garou and moves over to the stone and douses the sponge with the liquid in the wineskin and gets to work, cleaning it's surface. While he doesn't shirk the work, it's clear je's keeping an ear out to any conversation.

Adrian grimaces a bit as he cleans, he uses the back of his hand to wipe off the tears streaming from his eyes. He looks back to Jamethon, "Am I allowed to ask, rhya, what is God's name I'm using and am I gonna get cancer from it?" The cub smiles, it's clear he's not entirely serious.

Jamethon snorts over to the cub, "Some actually /drink/ that stuff Cub. I wouldn't let a Fianna hear you insult it."

Rides-Fire's muzzle wrinkles as he sniffs toward the cub, but he doesn't seem totally irritated by the odor. Instead, he suddenly yawns, pink tongue curling. ~I will have to return to sleep soon for tonight's patrols.~

Adrian looks at his mentor then back at the wineskin. He grimaces even more and then shakes his head. He shuts up and focuses on cleaning, hoping not to inadvertently insult anyone.

Apocalypse stretches, then hauls herself to her feet. ~Yeah, an' I need to find a place to stow /this/ fuckin' crap.~ She gives the trash bag a bit of a kick. ~See ya. An' nice meetin' you, Rides-rhya an' Adrian-kiddo.~ She grins.

Rides-Fire turns toward Jamethon. ~He was saying he does not know much of the tribes yet.~ He turns back to the metis and acknowledges her farewell.

Jamethon nosd to the cub then looks back towards the others, speaking in the mother's tongue once more. ~The cub will learn to take a little stinging in his eyes, or not much else will he be able to tak later. Is your whole pack patroling tonight Rides-Fire?~

Rides-Fire answers, ~At least the wolf-born, since we can patrol in a form that does not take unhealable damage from silver, yet we can scent out trouble. The man-born split their attention as it is needed.~

Adrian smiles up at teh Fang, "Nice meeting you too, rhya"

Apocalypse tosses off another way and then limps out, trash bag slung over one shoulder. She's not gone far when her singing voice trails back to the clearing. "...Gonna wash that wyrm right outta my caern, an' send th' fucker on his wayyyyyy..."

Jamethon nods to this and asks, ~Good hunting to you then. We know they are out there somewhere. Just need to find them.~ With a bow of his head he then offers another bow to Apocalypse in form of a parting gesture.