An explosion of catastrophe

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 15 mph, with gusts up to 23 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.71 and falling, and the relative humidity is 53 percent. The dewpoint is 31 degrees Fahrenheit (0 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (90% full).
It is currently 16:55 Pacific Time on Fri Mar 12 2010.

Center of the Caern
This is the central point of the 30-meter-wide clearing. The ground is a mixture of dark, rich, muddy soil mixed with clay, though there is an occasional patch of grass. At the center rests a large white boulder, immovable even by the strongest crinos. The boulder is shot through with streaks of quartz that produces scintillating colors when light strikes it just right. It is, for lack of a wholly adequate word, beautiful.
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.

Contents:
Heart
Al
Leaves-None
Ringtone
Song-of-Vengeance
Little Silvertip

Obvious exits:
Rock Slab Windy Spot WaterFall Steam Vents

Al trudges down into the caern, shoulders slightly hunched, looking surly and vaguely defensive. He stops at the edge of things, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.

An Uktena posse comes from east, two of them wearing grim expressions. Silvertip and Eztli are in Crinos, and Fernando in lupus. Silvertip’s spear’s head has cloth tied over it. Eztli has some sort of knife with her. Silvertip drops a small bag behind him when he and his packmate finds a place to stand. Fernando paces around the Caern, before finding a place not far from the other two Uktena. Silvertip seems more tense than he should be.

By the steam vents, the misty air of the steam vents shimmers and shivers, a crinos figure pushing through the gauntlet. Standing silver-furred and strong, Bright Falcon’s Grace seems still-focused on whatever was on the shadow side of the space, her icy gaze distant and distracted by the hissing mist that swirls about her. Moving slowly, she settles down into a crouch, start to sketch something on the sandy surface with a claw, her entire being narrowed down to whatever designs appear.

Eight Mile slumps in with the uncertainty of a city Garou in the woods. Studying those gathered, she swings wide, selecting a place toward the back and rather alone for the time being.

Icetrap arrives for the Moot with the air of one who is exhausted yet not at the point of collapse. He gives tense, weary, silent wolf-greetings to those he knows well- his packmates, various of the Theurges and others- before flopping on his belly near the central stone. It seems to be taking most of his effort just to keep his head up so he can watch and listen.

Song-of-Vengeance moves into the circle from one of the edges, fidgiting a little, but relaxed.

Ringtone remains close to his packmate as they seek out a quiet place to wait toward the northern edge of the caern. He studies the Uktena trio for a moment, nostrils twitching and then turns his attention elsewhere.

Al spots Eight Mile and casually edges over to another section of the caern.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm stalks into the Caern alone, walking tall in crinos (or at least as tall as the youngster can manage). His hammer is slung across his back as always, the young Fenrir’s eyes flicking back and forth across those already present.

Leaves-None pauses only briefly to scratch the annoying leaf from its sticking place before she trots to catch up to Ringtone. Other than that, her ears seem stuck at ‘alert’ in contrast to an otherwise relaxed demeanor.

Kaz stumps in from the steam vents, some droplets sticking to her hair. They drip.

BJ stays very close to her tribesmates, more comfortable than at her first moot, but still more than a little awed and nervous at all the gathering of the Garou.

Mouse lightly touches the shimmering stone at the caern’s heart.
Mouse’s form seems to be more real for just a moment, then she vanishes.

On-Star wanders into the area, greeting those she know from afar as she finds a spot to sit.

Little Silvertip gestures vaguely at the caern, before mumbling something to his female packmate. He nods at the rock.

Night’s Herald slips into the Caern, Fallout leading the way. He moves to take his place as Truthcatcher, while Heart and Golden find a clear spot and settle. For his part, Golden is restless, and his ears swivel constantly to catch every sound they can.

Kaz gravitates vaguely toward Masao.

By the steam vents, mist and water kick into the air, the earth seeming to breathe as the steam seeks an escape from beneath the crust. As the bulk of the Sept gathers, the Silver Fang makes a sudden movement, her claws coming up and slashing deeply into her left forearm, so that blood flows freely. Dipping one claw in a delicate motion, she starts to sketch on the ground, sand and blood mingling, her movements swift and sure. She is mumbling something beneath her breath but it is difficult to discern what it is she is saying over the hissing sounds filling the air.

Oskar arrives shortly after Paul, lagging behind his elder respectfully.

When the Garou are around the right places, Song-of-Vengeance, moves to stand roughly in the center of the gathering, touching those she passes lightly – brushing a shoulder, a hip, or an arm with her hand, her tail moving in time with her steps. With the caern stone at her back, the Fury squares her shoulders and howls long, loud, and clear. ~Garou of the Hidden Walk! I call thee, summon thee, bring you hence to witness this circle, this everwidening circle, the Moot that we call. Hear me! Hear my howl!~

Earth-Whisperer occurs shortly after the bulk of people have gathered, trailing the larger paws of Kill-Stealer. Both Talons stick to the edge of the gathered party, wary and curious, respectively.

Kaz belts out a ululating welcome, responding to the opening howl; for the moment, she remains in homid.

Al shifts his weight. He watches the Sept gather in a furtive, sidelong kind of way, his eyes half-lidded, his frown set.

On-Star shifts up to crinos as Song-of-Vengeance howls, glancing around with growing excitement.

Eight Mile shifts up to crinos, still lingering alone for the time being. She raises her head toward the sky and calls out a growling, harsh howl.

Fernando is the first to join the howl, in a light yip than hoot. Silvertip is sluggish in adding his own, deep reply to the mix.

Barn-Owl shifts up with the older garou, happy to belt out a tuneless howl.

Ringtone’s ears twitch outward and he blinks once before lifting his muzzle to howl with a clear, bright voice.

Heart howls along, very very loudly; that giant chest holds a lot of air.

Icetrap’s howl is lethargic and slow, though the Get theurge is intense once he begins.

A six-legged, somewhat reddish-furred wolf arrives just this tiny, tiny bit late, and slinks quickly in Kaz’s direction. Her fur has been liberally decorated in blue woad, and she’s carrying a stick roughly the length of a forearm in her jaws, covered in every glyph imaginable.

Al mutters, “Aroo, motherfuckers.”

Desh sifts his way towards the other at first in lupus, howling, but eventually slips through the forms to glabro, where he remains for the moment.

There’s a wagging of tail for Kaz when sighted before Leaves-None’s butt becomes planted on the ground. Her attention centers on Song-of-Vengeance and she adds her dissonance to the gathering din.

Golden leaves off his over-examination of everything to join the opening howl, his uncommon voice rising with Heart’s.

The bulky form of Snakepatcher ambles into the caern, moving past trees and rocks and edging down into the canyon, in time for the howl. The Uktena joins his gravelly voice to the howl.

Earth-Whisperer and Kill-Stealer join the howl dutifully – their mutual tone wild, if brief.

Kaz beams at Morgan and reaches out a hand as if to rest it on her shoulder; but it falls before it reaches her, and she merely hunkers down next to her.

Blood-Guard’s lupus form trots hurriedly down the trail to the Caern. He adds his gravelly voice to the howl as he moves, taking a place by himself in the center.

Carries-Fire drops the carved stick lightly onto the ground in front of her forepaws, and leans somewhat in Kaz’s direction in return, tongue lolling between her teeth.

When the howls die away on the wind, Song-of-Vengeance pauses for a heartbeat or two, looking to the lupus that have joined the sept and those that seek to join, holding their gazes if she can for a moment before speaking. Drawing herself to her full height, hands crossed over her stomach, her ears tilt toward the moon. ~A song of mourning should to be sung for our Lupus kin. Let us not forget those who dwindle in these last days. Let our dirge keep their memory.~ A second, mournful howl rises from her chest, echoing over the caern and bawn.

Life-On-The-Line pads in slowly and quietly, joining the moot a little bit late. The Fury’s ears and head are low, submissive–an apology for that small infraction. Once in among her septmates, she blurs upward, lithely, into the war form and joins the opening howl.

By the steam vents, Falcon’s Grace continues to work on her glyphs and drawings, tuning out the rest of the moot as she does. Dipping her claw into the blood on her arm again, she adjusts something on the ground.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm throws his head back to join the howl, his voice modulating oddly with his eagerness and growing maturity.

On-Star howls mournfully along with the others.

Kaz’s ululation turns quieter, darker.

Oskar shifts to crinos, standing behind Hammer. He lifts his head, and howls.

Kill-Stealer pulls his ears forward, glancing at Earth-Whisperer at the second howl. His voice joins in more strongly on this one, but it is filled with angered defiance almost directed at the other howlers.

Eight Mile’s ear flicks though her marred voice dutifully joins in, calling to the moon that hangs overhead.

Carries-Fire’s ears splay. She’s a bit busy looking faintly baffled instead of howling.

Heart cants one ear back, looking confused, and looks around at the lupus. He snorts, not speaking but making it obvious that he doesn’t consider it appropriate to howl mournfully for the living.

Leaves-None’s howl changes for a softer note in response to the call.

Earth-Whisperer joins with his tribemate, not to be outdone, though his howl is slightly less angry.

Kaz falls silent, looking mildly perplexed, but willing.

Al’s face twists into a grimace. He shifts his weight, scratches briefly at the side of his neck, then shoves his hands back into his pockets.

Desh gravitates towards Yi, adding his voice to others’.

Little Silvertip’s perplexion is masked by larger concern and wariness. He raises his head, sniffing at the air in a paranoid manner.

Blood-Guard flicks his ears. He makes a short noise, looks around, and then casts a glance at Heart, tail twitching. He’s more confused than uneased.

This second howl tapers off and, letting her head hang, Song-of-Vengeance turns, shaking her head while walking in a circle, stopping in front of the knot of Garou. ~Thank you all for coming. It shows the strength of Gaias people that we can all gather together when Luna is full to share wisdom. The Litany has been handed down in the Garou people for the longest time, and its wisdom, even in this time, still holds true.~ She turns to the group. ~What say you, Fool?~

Heart hitches a massive shoulder at August in the universal sign for ‘I dunno, man’.

On-Star takes a moment to look at the confusion, finding it mildly curious.

Eight Mile’s ears splay at something, though it isn’t clear what. The Gnawer hunkers down and just watches those gathered.

Though he joined in the second wave of howling, Golden’s glance for his packmate doesn’t offer any explanatgion.

Ringtone’s hackles begin to rise and his ears turn backward as he takes in the general mood.

Pack> Golden radiates mild confusion mixed with amusement, and a touch of ‘well, she’s young’ on top of it all.

Leaves-None’s ears splay briefly and her tongue swipes at her nose in slight nervousness when the second round of howls ends.

Kaz relaxes, slightly, once the Fool is mentioned; but she seems restless still, for no clear reason.

Jason descends into the caern with Alessandra in tow, dressed in a green tunic with yellow embroidery. He slows as he looks around, smiling at the familiar faces and avoiding a few others before moving to lead his cub over towards the other Fianna present.

Carries-Fire glances at Kaz, and then seems to take her cue from the elder Galliard. She settles back onto her haunches and peers forward, though there’s a nervous energy visibly running through her.

The Fool belts back a taunting snarl that indicates her readiness to show what her wisdom is like against the Master of the Howl for the Calling of the Litany. Back and forth they start to go, reciting and refuting the laws of the Garou. Each law in turn is responded to by those gathered at the moot in ritualistic reaffirmation of the Garou traditions. The air is buzzing with tension and excitement, feelings and Rage almost tangible in the atmosphere as the Calling draws to a close with the howls of the final law – the most important law, some would argue – echoing off the walls of the caern chasm and pounded in by the waterfall’s dull roar. It is with this atmosphere that the Calling resolves, and the next step in the ritual of moot begins with the Opening of the Inner Sky.

Barn-Owl listens raptly to the back and forth of the fool, and the shoutdowns. Her body language is clear – this is really neat stuff!

Eight Mile alternates between amused and annoyed by the Fool, though she holds her tongue. Either way, the Gnawer seems more intent on what -others- are saying in response.

Jason joins in with the shouting down of the Fool where appropriate. Oh, greater witticisms have never been heard! He nudges Alessandra to join in as well.

Ears falls into Crinos at the first law; her comments are generally pithy, but pointed. Less a shout than a grump.

Too-Good-To-Be-True looks to Hammer-of-the-Wyrm for guidance.

Little Silvertip gives a few vague shouts, but it’s clear he’s distracted. Most of the time, he just calls the Fool shit-for-brain, or something else. Fernando is in fine form, yapping back all sorts of clever rebuttals and replies.

Snakepatcher yelps and snarls out his defense of the Laws.

On-Star joins in on shouting down, though her voice remains more of a drone within the excitement.

Icetrap listens dully to the Calling, ears flicking occasionally to take in the Fool’s arguments and the Sept’s responses.

Ringtone rises onto two legs, taking crinos to shout down the fool. His gaze settles on Solsiva, briefly, and the nervous tension about him eases as his jaw drops open in a grin.

Golden doesn’t call out as much at the Fool as he normally would, his attention turned to the Caern around them. Despite the general sea of sounds and smells the Garou themselves make, he looks like he’s trying to pinpoint something else. When the Calling is over, he seems to have given up, and focuses on Falcon’s Grace and her work.

By the steam vents, the steam starts to rise, heavy and thick and swirling, responding to the efforts of the theurge in the center of the space and the growing energy of moot. The mist spreads swiftly, every breath and hiss of the earth pushing it across the center of the caern, twisting it about the gathered Garou, and sending it toward the sky, to hang in a hazy arc across the face of the moon. As the calling of the litany starts to wind down, the last few shouts and howls ending in an echo, Bright Falcon’s Grace rises to her feet, her head lifting to look skyward and her arms raising, blood streaming down her left arm in a bright splash against her silvered fur. She calls then, a eerie wild-sounding howl that seems muted in the heavy-hanging mist, an invitation for the Sept to join her in welcoming the spirits.

Ferret, when the calling is finished, makes her way back to join Ringtone and the rest of her pack.

Song-of-Vengeance joins in with Bright Falcon’s Grace, her arms going up, her head going back as her howl echoes over the bawn, a joyful sound welcoming the spirits to this place.

Alessandra follows Jason obediently, her eyes trailing over the crowd. She joins in with the shoutdowns as she is nudged, grinning widely; it seems she is enjoying herself, though she’s fairly confused.

And this time, Kaz howls in crinos, a full throated plea for Chimera and other spirits to come and be honored.

Al seems to become more and more withdrawn as the Calling goes on, his body language closed and inward, his expression dull. Even the renewed howling for the Inner Sky doesn’t seem to rouse him.

On-Star turns her head slightly to grin back at Ringtone. Then she’s standing up to howl a welcome for the spirits.

Little Silvertip gives a sharp howl to Chimera, more engaged than he had been up to this point. He does his best to outdo everyone, or at least make a good whack at trying.

Leaves-None chimes in on a law or two, remaining in lupus for the entirety but seeming charged up with the byplay. She welcomes Ferret back to the pack-group with a hearty wag before all but bouncing on four feet to give her loudest welcoming howl.

Carries-Fire stays in lupus, but she rises, tips her head back, and howls, rough and loud as always.

Eight Mile revives as well, raising her head to call to the sky, a bit more involved now.

Heart always gets into the calling back to the Fool, so when he joins in calling to the spirits it’s with a full throated bellow, accompanied by clawing up the forest floor, bristling with emotion.

Golden howls along with his packmates, joining in after a final glance at the treeline.

Ringtone’s howl is full and bright, the invitation clear in his voice.

By the steam vents, the air practically hums with the howls of the Sept, the energy of those gathered, the promise of the magic of the ritual heavy in the air. ~Garou of the Hidden Walk,~ Falcon’s Grace calls, her words heavy and thick with anticipation, the sound cutting through the sudden hush in the air. ~Tonight we Moot and tonight we must call for wisdom and guidance from the spirits that bind us as a nation. We call to those who have seen enough promise in us to take us and make us more, make us whole.~ She motions toward the sky, where shapes seem to be forming in the midst, where sounds start to be heard, echoing and coming from far away. Hoofbeats, wingbeats, the sound of claws clacking against a surface, the sound of an approaching storm.

Earth-Whisperer and Kill-Stealer join in with a mutual, expressive harmony, calling to the Caern spirit. While they shouted down the Fool as much as anyone, a quiet settles over them as they both seem intent on Carefully Watching the vast array of homids.

Eight Mile’s howls die away and, much like a child — a fur-covered terrible werewolf child, at least — she stares skyward as the spirits begin to make themselves known.

Barn-Owl watches, very nervously, standing with August between her and the shadowy forms in the sky. She doesn’t howl or prance about, looking like she’s expecting something very scary to happen any moment now.

Speech-and-Silence has been notably less vocal than usual during the calling of the Litany, but his howl joins in the greeting of the spirits.

Desh lingers near Yi, their voices lost amidst the uproar.

This always makes the hair on the back of Song-of-Vengeance’s neck raise up, watching, no, feeling the spirits gather in the mists surrounding the caern, bouncing on her toes, almost delightfully, as she waits for the inevitable rush.

On-Star stares upward in awe.

Blood-Guard gives Barn-Owl a reassuring nudge with his muzzle, though the Ahroun is distracted by the goings-ons. When the opening begins, he turns his full attention to Falcon’s Grace and leaps to his feet, howling earnestly and loudly. When the spirits begin to appear, the Gaian’s jaws crack in a lupine grin and he peers forward.

Alessandra ‘s gaze turns skyward as the sounds begin to be heard, her brows raised in surprise.

Bag-of-Snakes’s howl dies away as the spirits manifest themselves and the Jarl watches them in fascinated awe.

Heart makes an eager sound, staring up at the sky as if expecting a cookie, tail starting to wag.

Looking upward, Kaz appears not to have lost the wonder that Chimera inspires in her, as her mouth falls open slightly, and her tail begins to twitch.

Leaves-None dances slightly in place in anticipation, head tilted skyward, tongue lolling lightly from her muzzle, tail wagging unabashedly.

Al seems to be staring blankly at the ground in front of his (currently fairly muddy) shoes.

By the steam vents, the Silver Fang is shouting now, to be heard over approaching thunder: ~Pegasus and Rat, we call to you!~ There is a suggestion of wings and whiskers in the mist, a distant ringing neigh and fearsome squeak before a rush of air sweeps across the space, revealing a heavy equine body and a swift rodent form. ~Unicorn and Stag, we call to you!~ A horn slices through the mist, followed by the heavy bulk of a body, the neigh in a different, deeper range even as a heavily antlered form and a feral snorting sound approach from the opposite direction. ~Fenris and Cockroach, we call to you!~ A terrifying howl cuts through the air as a shaggy wolf shape barrels through the mist and the unnatural chittering of a winged bug shape arrows by, promising to survive forever. ~Griffin and Grandfather Thunder, we call to you!~ Something wild and fierce of winged with an eagle’s beak and a lion’s claws cuts right after the wolf, screaming a never-heard-in-nature challenge to the air, even as a huge flash of thunder and lightning makes a definitive statement. ~Owl and Chimera, we call to you!~ A silent beat cuts across, the huge bulk of an owl all the more powerful in the post-thunder silence, matching the flash of mirrored wings and bulk that is the ever-changing figure of the Sept totem itself. ~Uktena and Wendigo, we call to you!~ A hissing sound accompanies the serpent figure that seems almost to chase the owl even as a blast of icy air sweeps through the entire caern center, preceding the charging figure of ice and terror that comes from the north. ~Falcon, we call to you!~ There is a clarion call of the winged spirit, a sharp beat of wings and the approach of a raptor, answered by a grateful and welcoming call from the Silver Fang, an invitation for the Sept to join her in welcoming the tribal totems.

Jason is awestruck in wonder. Wow!

Carries-Fire’s jaws part again, and this time her loud, rough howl is very gleeful.

~Dude,~ Kaz says. That appears to be all she’s going to say, until she belts out a welcoming howl, almost at the same time as Morgan’s.

Barn-Owl lets out a huge sigh, nervous energy fading as it’s just the totems. She makes a noise that’s sort of a Crinos equivalent to a nervous chuckle. ~Oh! Wow.~

Ringtone’s ears flatten against his skull, but all the same his welcoming howl carries a joyful note.

Al’s head twitches, giving a little tilting-jerk. He grimaces and squints his eyes all but closed.

On-Star howls joyfully, almost giddy as the spirits appear.

Speech-and-Silence watches Cockroach skitter past with a look similar to a man who’s just trodden on a garden rake and had it rise up and smack him in the face. Except instead of a man he’s a wolf. The look is amazingly similar, though.

Ferret finds Leaves-None’s girlish enthusiasm to be catching. The older Gnawer’s tongue lolls, and then she too turns her muzzle skyward, waiting. As the raucous arrival plays out, the grizzled old ragabash sits in childlike wonder of it all. She joins her voice to the rest in welcome.

Heart is about beside himself with exaltation; he howls and yawps and starts dashing in circles, proinging like a spring lamb.

Eight Mile calls toward the heavens though–admittedly–the Gnawer is tracking the movement of Rat the most.

Leaves-None capers in place in surprise, turning around in a full circle a couple of times at the brush-by of the spirits and alternating between yips and happy howls.

Bag-of-Snakes stretches to the sky, both fists clenched and pumping. ~GO FENRIS GO!~

Golden howls at all of the totems as they appear, though his voice is somewhat louder for Owl.

By the steam vents, the calls of the Sept mingle with the fearsome sounds of the totems above, the spirits wheeling and stampeding through the sky in a deadly ballet. Each totem seems to seek, for a moment, those of it’s children below; or perhaps they don’t and it is only the imagination of the watching Garou. But for a moment, it feels to those below as if they are under scrutiny and study from that most dear to them before, in a flurry of movement and sound and overwhelmed senses, the figures fade again into a mist that rapidly fades into nothing but the light of the moon overhead. ~The Inner Sky is opened!~ Falcon’s Grace calls, panting and suddenly weary, her right hand rubbing against her bleeding left arm.

Song-of-Vengeance almost forgets to howl, her breath taken away. When she does it’s joyful, her arms going up and out in a welcoming gesture. ~Welcome to this place, Pegasus!~

As the Inner Sky spills forth the cavalcade of spirits, Icetrap first sends a dour but approving look in Zosia’s direction before joining his howl to the others, the sound lost in the general cacophany.

Snakepatcher howls out to Uktena enthusiastically.

Earth-Whisperer and Kill-Stealer pridefully join their howls in a great volume for Griffin’s honor.

Blood-Guard thumps his tail and howls loudly, watching the Unicorn spirit with wide eyes and parted jaws. He almost forgets to howl, which he adds in a short burst.

Desh hoots for Owl.

The Garou gathered mill about for the next step of the moot, and the Truthcatcher, Jack Fallout, rises to his crinos form. Bearing a long white bone of some hooved animal, he climbs up to the rock slab wherein the Glass Walker holds up the bones, bringing them down to break upon his leg with a thick crack of sound. ~Now is the time for the Truth Catching! Speak only in the Mother’s Tongue, or face the price. Those who would speak, step forward and take the bones!~

Moving forward and taking the bones, Falcon’s Grace stands with a quiet sort of confidence, ignoring the trail of blood down her arm. ~I come forward to speak of two things. First, the Silver Fangs are claiming the Mountain Bowl area of the Wolf Woods park as their protectorate, to watch over the wolf kin and to guard the land therein. We will not deny those who wish to have access to the kin for breeding purposes but we will expect anyone who enters the territory to speak to me first.~ That said, the Silver Fang seems to move on to her next topic. ~Garou of the Hidden Walk, you must listen and listen closely. I have had dreams, dreams full of pain and terror and dread. Of attack and warning, about this place and about this time. I have spoken to others and they speak of dreams as well. When the moot is complete, if you have had these dreams, seek me out. We will speak of dreams and actions to follow.~ Pausing, she seems to consider something. Shaking her head, she stops there and hands the bones back, going to have a seat.

On-Star blinks and twitches her ears at Falcon’s Grace second message. The Walker quickly looks around to see other’s reactions.

Little Silvertip grunts a bit, glancing around. He sniffs at the air again, with a wary eye.

Bag-of-Snakes listens to that announcement with some evident interest, particularly as regards Wolf Woods and its inhabitants.

Ringtone’s ears pull forward as Zosia speaks, eyes widening at her information. He glances toward his alpha, posture questioning without giving the thought full voice.

Leaves-None pants a little bit, settling down to listen to what may be said. The talk of dreams and such earns an inquisitive tilt of her head but nothing more.

Song-of-Vengeance crouches warily next to the center stone, attention fixed on Bright Falcon’s Grace.

Lightning-Branch, standing in the warform beside his pack, rumbles quietly in the back of his throat at Zosia’s announcement.

Al blinks slowly and looks up when the Truthcatcher speaks. He squints, listening, mouth still pulled into a grimacy scowl, and eventually pushes himself up into the near-man shape and trudges up to the rock slab to take the bones. He addresses the Sept rather shortly, in rough Mother’s Tongue tinged with a distinctly urrah accent. ~They call me Glass Breaker. Homid, Ragabash, Cliath, an’ a Silver Fang. Elder asked me to teach someone the Rite of Contrition, so talk to me if you wanna learn it.~ He pauses a beat, thinking, then adds, ~Also lookin’ for a pack.~ He hands the bones back with a shrug and starts heading back to his spot on the outskirts.

Golden’s ears flatten in concern, and he looks among the other Garou for their reactions to Zosia. They flick forward again to greet Al, however.

Ears’s head tilts just slightly at something Zosia says; but she nods.

Eight Mile settles into a weird sort of crouch, sucking on a tooth at the pair of Silver Fangs. She seems tense but doesn’t move just yet.

Speech-and-Silence tailwags a few times at Al’s introduction, it being evident that he’s met the Silver Fang already, or at the very least knows of him, and doesn’t disapprove.

Little Silvertip has considerably less interest in Al. The new cliath gets a sidelong, distracted glance, before he resumes sniffing and glancing on regular intervals.

On-Star steps forward after a long moment to take the broken bones from Fallout, only slightly awkward as she turns to the rest of the Sept. ~I have passed my Rite of Passage and am now a Cliath of Cockroach’s tribe. I am On-Star-Measures-Twice, but please call me On-Star.~ With that over she hands them back and returns to where she had been.

Carries-Fire looks at Kaz, then looks back toward the Caern center. Her nervousness seems to have returned full force.

Blood-Guard pulls his ears back and blinks at Zosia’s announcement. His alarm fades to mild confusion, and then neutrality, as the introductions follow.

Barn-Owl gives a huge thumbs up to On-Star, very pleased at her friend’s success! She does manage to keep silent, though.

Heart squints at Al, the look on his face clear: Silver Fang? really? He chuffs, then looks down at Golden, ears splaying in concern.

Pack> Golden explains that Falcon’s Grace dreamed of white wolves. He seems to expect Heart to remember, about the fur.

Shortly after the Cracking, however, comes a long and loud, urgent howl from the northwesterly direction that Golden recognizes as Forest-Spirit. ~Danger to the Walk! Danger to the Walk from the west! Enemies from the West!~ That howl is then confirmed with yips and more. A line of howls of alarm sound the alert. ~Intruders from the north! Wyrm to the north! Look to the sky!~ cries another guard, howls sounding out, faint but detectable to the ears of the lupine-sensed.

Falcon’s Grace sounds her approval of On-Star’s news–but whatever else she might have done fades in the face of the call. Jerking to her feet, she seems prepared to charge off, looking to Kaz for her word.

Lightning-Branch looks up and around to the north and snarls, breath pumping raggedly in his chest, waiting for the chance to spring into action.

Song-of-Vengeance chuckles at On-Star’s cliath name, giving her a nod, her ears flicking toward the new cliath.

Bag-of-Snakes springs upright again and belts off a howl. ~What danger? Who howls a warning?~ she demands at top volume.

Little Silvertip seems to have been ready for this. Silvertip leaps straight up with a supernatural leap, up into the to of the Caern. The flies straight up, to the top of a tree, where he lands and looks.

On-Star hadn’t quite settled back down and stands tall, looking at the sky.

Leaves-None scrambles to her feet, turns once in a circle as she sorts out the howling, and glances upwards at the last call.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm , who had sat mostly quiet and absorbed througout the announcements, suddenly springs back to his feet at the cries of alarm, his hammer appearing in his talons as if by magic. His tail bristles, the boy grabbing Oskar by the arm to drag him over towards Bag-of-Snakes to make a little viking-cluster.

At the warning howls, Blood-Guard erupts to Crinos and looks to Kaz. Then he belts out a returning howl asking, ~What foes do we face, what numbers?~

Golden stands and scans the northern and western skyline, while his ears tilt towards Kaz for her orders.

Al’s head jerks up. One meaty hand goes into his suit jacket, then pulls back, empty. His expression turns annoyed. “Fuuuuuck,” he grumbles.

Eight Mile looks toward the older Gnawer, pushing to her feet and flexing clawed hands in anticipation.

Too-Good-To-Be-True doesn’t need any encouragement. He follows Hammer, grumbling as he casts his eyes about. ~Axe.~ He mutters, in his deep voice, which is surprisingly mild. Now.

Song-of-Vengeance shoots to her feet at the urgent howl, her teeth bared, the Fury looking to Kaz, waiting for orders. She is ready to run and face the enemies of the walk. Al gets a look. ~You will need your claws for this one, Glass-breaker.~

Heart nearly self-combusts, bursting with protective fury. ~The Wyrm dares! Let it come, we’ll turn it away in Gaia’s name!~

Carries-Fire rises from lupus to crinos, where a spear forms in one hand. She is very still, ears perked and pressed forward, nose to the air.

Falcon’s Grace snarls at Song-of-Vengeance as she waits, clearly displeased with the Fury’s words. The bulk of her attention is aimed north, the theurge scanning the skies.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me how to do my shit, Charlene,” Al snaps.

Barn-Owl looks about, eyes wide and with not a small amount of fear in them. ~What should I do?~ she asks nobody in particular.

On-Star’s head snaps back to glower at Al before looking away again.

Ferret tenses, the Gnawer’s eyes wide, her hackles raised. She scents the air, watches the others come alert. She watches Silvertip with mild–maybe even jealous–amazement. Eventually, her eyes come back to her tribal and sept alpha before she heads up the side of the caern to investigate.

Ears snaps her head north; and then west. And she looks, briefly, torn. ~Enh, fuck challenges,~ she mutters, and straightens. ~Well. Dreams and portents are true and more immediate than any expected, it would seem. But we are Garou, and we are gathered tonight for Gaia. The Revel, it seems, has come to us, rather than we seeking it out. Little Silvertip. Bag of Snakes. Blood Guard. Split those here. Choose among packs and packless, and take Garou to the east, the north, and the west. I and some others — Carries Fire, Eight-Mile, Song of Vengeance — will got to the South, to make sure there are none coming from that direction.~

Speech-and-Silence grows from lupus into hispo, and runs to the side of Snakepatcher, his nearest packmate. ~Where’s Mind-Breaker?~ he asks, looking amid the sudden bustle of garou running back and forth.

Carries-Fire rumbles her understanding, and looks ready to go on Ears’s word.

Eight Mile moves toward Ears immediately when she is named, restless with anticipation and already looking south.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm manages to look both angry and /very/ eager at the same time, gripping his hammer firmly. He does call out to the Alpha though. ~What of the cubs, Kaz-rhya?~ He keeps his station by Bag-Of-Snakes, standing at her side as if her huscarl- though a watchful gaze is kept on Oskar.

Lightning-Branch brandishes his club, letting the heavy stone slap against the muscled flesh in the palm of his claw-bearing hand.

Blood-Guard nods sharply to Kaz. ~Right.~ He looks over to Bag of Snakes, tail bristling in anticipation of battle, ears pinned to his head. ~We’ll need three groups then. Four, if you count those to stay and guard the Caern.~ The Gaian scans those gathered, stopping to look at Heart and Little Silvertip most consideringly.

Desh remains where he is, jaw set, waiting for orders.

Earth-Whisperer and Kill-Stealer also wait, amidst a chorus of growls.

Mind-Breaker shoulders his way past a quick rush of Garou, his tunic gone in his warform. ~Right here. The hell? Some people are acting like they expected this,~ he growls irritably as he charges up to meet the rest of his packmates.

Leaves-None circles her packmates quickly, sliding into hispo, and rumbles a tense query of direction before glancing at the three singled out by the Ears to lead groups.

~Dreams, Mind-Breaker, spoke to us.~ Song-of-Vengeance growls, not angrily, as she moves to stand with Kaz, Carries-Fire, and Eight-Mile, ready to head to the south with the sept Alpha.

Ears says, reassessing slightly, ~Cubs should stay here. Safest place. I want two to guard. Ringtone, Fast-Draw, you remain here, to guard.~ Then she narrows her eyes, something evidently transmitting to her. ~The west has nine fuckin’ fomori and about four Garou. Let’s get to it, people.~

Carries-Fire rumbles at something, her ears flattening. She looks /displeased/.

Snakepatcher sharply turns about, to the north, and to the west, and barely restrains himself from charging anywhere as he listens to Kaz’s instructions. He bumps shoulders with his packmates.

~Yeah? Last time I was hit by a dream of a naked Rosario Dawson, I didn’t stock up on Crisco and condoms,~ Mind-Breaker growls.

On-Star looks at those named, eager and tense.

Bag-of-Snakes looks at Too-Good with genuine regret and apology on her face. ~The Alpha orders that you stay, soldier. So you stay. Orders must be obeyed.~ She clumps him on the shoulder sympathetically, and turns to round up others, starting with Wyrmhammer.

~You heard the Jarl, Too-Good-To-Be-True.~ Wyrmhammer snarls to his cub, before looking to the Jarl and anyone else that she manages to rope in. His tail lashes behind him in excitement, his entire body all of a sudden wired. ~We’ll bring you back a nice skull. Or nine of ‘em. Time is wasting!~ He adds more generally, seeming about to rush off alone, so eager is he.

Heart points at Barn-Owl. ~Stay here, be guarded,~ he orders. ~If they try to take you…open your throat.~ He bares his teeth in what is apparently supposed to be a reassuring smile. ~But don’t worry too much about that.~

Barn-Owl quickly goes over to Ringtone, gesturing to the other cubs as well. ~C’mon, we’ll be okay here. This will be no big deal.~ She’s not entirely convinced of her own words, but tries to sound brave.

Little Silvertip stands at the top of his tree for a long moment, squinting into the gloom. After a few moments, he jumps down, landing like a feather on the ground. ~It’s too far to see.~ Silvertip curses lower, before yelling, ~Hummingbird! Lightning Branch! Draws-Fast! Speech and Silence! We’re going north, NOW!~

Falcon’s Grace briefly noses at Barn-Owl, probably attempting to be reassuring but mostly just making vague growling noises Which probably aren’t reassuring.

Too-Good-To-Be-True grumbles wordlessly.

On-Star heads over to Ringtone then to see about going.

Lightning-Branch grips his club in between his enormous teeth and takes off behind Little Silvertip on all fours.

Yi calls out over to Kaz amidst the urgent organizing, “Kaz, I can take the cubs to a safe place. We just need some to guard along the way.”

Speech-and-Silence blinks in surprise as Little Silvertip summons him away from his packmates. ~I… well, see you guys later –~ he blurts in Mother’s Tongue, and twists away, breaking into a canter to run after the Uktena. ~On my way! Let the Wyrm beware!~ he yips as he runs.

Earth-Whisperer chuffs after Yi that he and Kill-Stealer will provide support for the cubs.

Slowly, Kaz turns to regard Jason. ~A Sept protected by Chimera. A Caern of Visions. Scoff at other times and places; for now, pray to Gaia we can defend this place.~ She turns away from him to add to Viv, ~If you think he can hack it, take him. Your cub.~ Ears then nods to Yi.

Hummingbird runs along with Lightning Branch, the Uktena meeting his packmate somewhere in the middle.

Bag-of-Snakes also addresses Kaz. ~My cub is a fighter. I would sooner take him with me and Wyrmhammer than leave him to fret,~ she states. Kaz’s implicit permission seems to be a weight off her mind, and she addresses the young full-moon of her tribe. ~Okay! Change of orders. You come with me. You! Silver Fang!~ She addresses Al. ~And you, Leaves-None!~ she adds as she spots the experienced Gnawer. ~With me, and we go west!~

Mind-Breaker perks his eyebrows up at Kaz. ~…I’ll start buying Crisco in bulk, then.~ Looking to his cub, he puts a hand on her head and says, ~Ready to listen to the warriors fight from a distance?~

Blood-Guard grunts. He calls out Heart and Golden, and gestures to Carries-Fire, Kavi, and Lefty. ~We will meet the foes to the east and destroy them. If any others would join us, come with me.~

Barn-Owl leaves with the newer cubs, trying to keep the group’s spirits up as they go off to their refuge until the current trouble passes.

Al straightens up when Bag of Snakes barks at him. He grunts and hauls himself up into Crinos.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm ‘s snarl splits into a grin as Oskar is granted fomor-killing privileges. ~Let’s /go/!~ He growls in frustration, bouncing up and down on his heels and then taking off with Viv.

Blood-Guard grunts. He calls out various Garou. ~We will meet the foes to the east and destroy them. If any others would join us, come with me.~

Too-Good-To-Be-True snaps to Crinos attention! ~Yes! I come, Jarl!~ He lopes to stand by Hammer, his tongue lolling slightly. He tenses, then relaxes, stretching himself out. Getting limbered up.

Heart bounds after August, every hackle up, every tooth bared. Someone is eager for the fray.

Golden slips after Heart and August’s group, easily keeping pace with his packmate.

Falcon’s Grace moves with Golden, Heart, and Blood Guard, the Silver Fang nosing at her former packmate as they go.

Leaves-None gives her packmates a quick bump and tears off after Bag-of-Snakes and other Get.

Bawn: Northern Forest
 Dark and forboding woods stretch in all directions but the north, the trees close together as if they were soldiers closing ranks against the enemy of Man. The trees here are tall, and close off all light from above, like they were pillars in some vast cathedral to Nature. Songbirds flit between the branches and the snuffling of small animals comes from the brush if one listens close enough. The busy interstate highway to the north, though, drowns out most of the subtler sounds in that direction.
 The northern edge of the bawn is marked here by the unavoidable length of Interstate 90. Near it, the sounds of traffic drown out the more natural sounds of water and wildlife. In all other directions, the traffic noise recedes into the background.

Contents:
Heart
Carries-Fire
Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm
Snakepatcher
Blood-Guard
Ringtone
On-Star
Leaves-None
Lightning-Branch
Too-Good-To-Be-True
Desh
Glass Breaker
Speech-and-Silence
Ears
Falcon’s Grace
Bag-of-Snakes
Little Silvertip
Mekoides

Obvious exits:
Interstate 90 North Lone Boulder Western Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Bawn

The packs headed northward run on. The bawn’s landscape is darkened by the night and reduced moon, but the senses of wolves are better attuned, and those more familiar with the woods know their home turf well enough to manuever. Further ahead, there is a loud howl once more, one of Challenge from a stranger’s voice. Then it is followed by the screeching, grating sound of the unmistakeable Call of the Wyrm for those who have heard the Gift. It is a sound that sends shivers up the spine and fur prickling out of reflex. As the warriors coming from the caern continue onwards, they can already hear the sounds of battle in other sections of the bawn as the wind bears that news laggingly.

Little Silvertip and his bunch stream out to the north. Silvertip, in crinos, takes the covering off his spear, revealing the silver that he brought along. The crinos runs on all fours with the group, but in the branches of the trees. Kevin jogs along in hispo, while Desh runs along in glabro, supernaturally fast. Chulash matches him in Crinos, while Fernando follows up the rear in hispo.

Bag-of-Snakes’s party sets out to the West initially. The Jarl organises her troops into a rough capital-M shape, the two ragabash on the wings, Al at right and Masao at left flank. She and Paul are the two central prongs, Oskar just behind his tribemates. Soon enough, though, they hear howls and combat from the north, and she orders the formation to wheel and head that way at the double.

Blood-Guard stops to scrape his crinos claws on a rock. Then he leads to take the point position, ordering He moves them as quietly as he can along a ridge, treading on all fours, trying to use the terrain to their advantage, hoping to spot the enemy before they are seen. Falcon’s Grace falls into place behind Blood-Guard, looking to do so out of long-time habit. She doesn’t do anything visible but she suddenly seems -more- than she just did before, following the Gaian without comment. Golden keeps to August’s flank, his hispo shape indistinct and difficult to track and his smell entirely absent. His ears and nose work as they move north, and as the sound of the Call hits his ears he senses for the Wyrm’s presense, feeling the familiar Bawn around him for corruption. On-Star has no gifts to activate so simply stays by Ringtone in crinos. Heart brings up the rear of the group, his claws gleaming with supernatural sharpness. He goes with the silence of Owl, enormous Crinos form far more stealthy than it should be. As they move, Ringtone slips from crinos to hispo, following August’s direction and keeping close ot the front.

Silvertip’s group is the first to see them. Hurtling forward is a pack of Black Spiral Dancers, four at first. The one in the lead is frightening already, a hispo with no skin on its face to speak of but a bloodied mass of muscle, sinew and two rolling eyes. Flanking on the right, a wolf with not a muzzle but a long protruding beak that looks very sharp. On the left, a scarred and muscled crinos with long bat-like ears and mud-caked fur. Completing their diamond formation, the hispo in the back with an eye as white as a golfball, his fur not fur at all but a mass of shivering spikes.

A foul, noxious scent fills the air from where Viv’s group runs forth and they see first what comes. Sort of. A huge green cloud, opaque and unable to see through, sits in their way as they run. The source of it? A huge boulder-sized *something*, porous and with a multitude of holes that open and close with muscular movement. From each pore, more gas billows out chokingly.

Coming from the east, August’s group spots the shambling sight of a Materialized bane. Monsters in their own right. The one in the lead slavers from a huge crinos-eating lamprey mouth, and on its head it bears no eyes but two small sensor antenna. The creature moves on two large chitinous armored legs with thick claws and lashes a long, naked tail with trident-prongs at the end.

Speech-and-Silence sees the cluster of Dancers with a fierce light in his eyes. Finding himself paired up, willy-nilly, with Desh, he lets the Strider go in head-to-head against the skinless-faced leader while he veers to one side, twisting to come in at right angles to the same target with teeth snapping. Desh stops to take aim as the rest of his group musters forward, firing straight ahead towards the face of the foremost Spiral. Silvertip, not landing for a second, bounces down to lower branches, so that he’s still above the reach of the dancers, while he uses the long reach of his silver weapon to jab down into the spiked Black Spiral Dancer. Fernando and Chulash are in Crinos, running at the Spiral on the right. Fernando is going to vault up the side of a tree and come down on the Spiral with his mace from above, while Chulash is going to swing for the legs with his club.

Glass Breaker snarls a surly-sounding, ~Fuuuuuuck,~ plus something else under his breath. Something about ferals, guns, and stupid rules. Leaves-None’s ears pin back to her head and the yip she makes is disgusted as she trades wolf for larger Hispo and searches for a angle from which to attack. ~What a gas…~ At the centre of the spearhead, Oskar obediently waits for a command to attack or withdraw from Paul or Viv. From his position at the forefront, Wyrmhammer slows his pace a little at the sight of the obstruction ahead. ~Oh. Great. Something else that I can’t take proper trophies from.~ He comments sardonically to the rest of his group before looking to the Jarl for her orders. ~Want me to go smashy on that lump, boss?~ And Bag-of-Snakes, eyeing up the target, growls, ~Can’t see any reason to hold back against this one. It’s visible enough. All in against it!~ With which command, she takes a deep, deep breath, and trying not to breathe its miasma, charges the boulder-creature with a howl of proud defiance.

Blood-Guard launches himself forward, quick and low, to dart around the thing, trying to avoid the tail and maw. He reaches out with a swipe to the legs to call on his gift of the falling touch. Just behind August comes deft-pawed Golden, hoping to try and damage the bane’s antenna should it fall. He howls a quick warning to the others that there are more foes coming. The Ragabash also takes care to try and sidestep that nasty lamprey-mouth. Heart and Ringtone barrel forward, the Fostern Gaian aiming his claws for any weaknesses in the armor. He’ll attack whether he finds any or not. Ringtone focuses on the thing’s legs, focusing his energy to break through the tough chitin. And Falcon’s Grace and On-Star hang back, warily awaiting the others Golden warned about.

Desh’s bullet explodes out of the gun, and in turn travels with haste before the projectile suddenly bursts into a flashbang brilliant light that temporarily blinds not just the lead charging Dancer, but also the one to the left. The left one curses a storm, blinking but not quite stopping. As a result, the crinos runs right into Speech-and-Silence who tackles into the lead Dancer in a sideswipe. Fangs find each other mutually and tear away at flesh and bone. The mass is a wild fray, not affording a good second shot for the Strider with the keen eye. Where Silvertip flies up, his weapon stabs down towards the running spike-furred hispo. The latter enemy proves a hard target to strike, spotting the white crinos above him and ducking to a side. The spear grazes, slicing open a burning wound that elicits a howl of rage. That same hispo limps back, planting its feet and letting go a thick howl at the Uktena ahroun. It’s a piercing cry that latches on straight to Silvertip’s inner Beast and breaks the chains free, unleashing a berserk frenzy. Fernando and Chulash’s double-teamed attack upon the beak-faced Crinos proves only semi-effective. The creature is speedy, leaping up to avoid the Strider’s sweeping club. Fernando has a bit better luck and smashes down on the shoulder, a crunch of bone and a yelp heard as the Dancer rolls away.

The boulderish creature, however it manages to sense the group of Garou that comes charging towards it, takes to flight. Or rather, rolls. The being leads them off on a chase, smashing pinball-esque through the wood and leaving a choking cloud in its wake. Not even the ironclad stomachs of the Garou manage to hold back the nauseous feeling, and something about the gas burns at the lungs heavily, clinging to their sensitive inner organs.

The large group of Blood-Guard’s closes in, each Garou in turn throwing their attacks in. The leading Blood-Guard ducks low, slamming claws at the leg of the creature. By virtue of his gift, as it lifts its leg to kick out at him, it misses and stumbles with a couple hops on its one planted foot. Golden takes his chance, but misses the smaller target of the antenna on its awkward manuever. That lamprey mouth comes dangerously close to the Owl-child, scraping away fur but not managing to break skin. Heart and Ringtone fair the best when they attack the one balancing leg, the ahroun managing to flay open a chunk of armor and the galliard less successful, scraping but a layer off. With the warning sounded, Falcon’s Grace and On-Star spot the movement from behind the fray, as shadows break cover and take off at an angle away from the fighters.

Evidently, Kaz and Charlene scouted out the situation to the south, and decided that there was little possibility of threat coming from that direction. And so, soon enough, they started loping to the north again, Charlene in the lead and Kaz limping behind, but covering the terrain in a ground-eating pace, grimly following the sounds of battle to the north.

Silvertip lands on the ground when the Frenzy sets in, no longer having the control of flight. Without using his silver weapon, he uses his other paw to tear into his foe. Now he’s at close quarters Speech-and-Silence shows no desire to break away from his foe. He’s a snapping, snarling ball of righteous rage for Gaia as he continues his attack on the lead Dancer. Not wanting to risk hurting Kevin, Desh turns for a moment, watching the speedy Dancer and firing just as it moves away from the other Garou, using it’s own inertia against it to aim the bullet correctly. Having struck their foe once, Fernando and Chulash storm after him. The fires of Rage burn in their eyes as at once they strike with a one-two attack, swinging in an arc with their clubs at the Dancer’s head and slashing with their claws, intending to rip out hunks of flesh from his side.

Too-Good-To-Be-True swings to a nearby tree and tries to get into the branches above the target in order to attack from above. Though he can feel the damage to his lungs, his tribemate Wyrmhammer doesn’t feel the pain- nor is he slowed by it. The young modi taps his rage, bursting ahead at an angle to try and head the thing off without inhaling too much of its choking trail. Once within range his hammer is bought down upon its skin with all of his might. The Jarl is also there with him, calling on her rage to speed her attack, and using preternaturally sharp claws to make what marks she can upon the strange being’s body. Shaking her head with a hacking cough, Leaves-None tries vainly to clear her lungs before continuing the forward press. She tries to snake lower to the ground in the even faint hope of clearer sights as she pelts after the erstwhile runaway gasball. Glass Breaker, gagging on the noxious fumes, falters and falls behind somewhat. He makes any number of awful-sounding hacking noises and keeps shaking his head sharply, like he’s trying to dislodge something clinging to it.

With barks of warning from Falcon’s Grace and On-Star, Blood-Guard and his group are made aware that the other enemies are within sight range, and their path leads them towards the Caern. The Gaian Ahroun calls Fang and Glass Walker forward to help him intercept, along with Golden. Heart and Ringtone he directs to take the currently-engaged Bane down quickly before moving to help intercept the others. Heart takes to the task with gusto, trying to shove the already off-balance thing over, while Ringtone launches a flurry of claws at already-weakened parts. As those moving to intercept rush, On-Star howls a LOUD warning: ~Garou of the Hidden Walk, Banes come to attack the Caern! They come now!~

Kaz, by prearrangement, runs into Javen and pants, ~Thissaway,~ as they head northward. But at the howl, they all three pause; Kaz concentrates for a moment and then calls, ~Thattaway,~ and, apparently having gotten some directions, heads for the shadowy banes moving toward the Caern, and the group of Gaians and Walkers, hopefully to barrel into the enemy. Kaz’s actual factual packmate, Morgan, barrels along beside them.

Onto the ground the fight goes. Silvertip falls into a raging frenzy, which seems to be the malicious intent of the Black Spiral Dancer who jumps away, luring the Uktena ahroun’s fury out even at the expense of some heavy hits. Biding his time, though, he waits for the misstep and launches forward, teeth and claws tearing into the ahroun’s silver-wielding arm with a vengeance. Within seconds, the ahroun’s arm is in tatters – not that he notices either when it tears right off at the elbow and he continues to batter the Dancer with unending, furious attacks. Kevin has his hands full as well, throwing out hits but taking hard ones. A messy affair turns into a desperate affair once the Walker ragabash comes to realize he’s being overpowered by two Dancers upon him. His flesh is rended away when the Spirals combine attacks against him, and red starts to invade the crushing black that threatens his vision. In the spirit of double-teams, Fernando and Chulash have at their target. Desh’s bullet buries itself into the tail-end of the creature, causing a sharp yelp and brief distraction. All too well for Fernando and Chulash – one mace smashes down on the head, and claws eliminate the throat in moments.

Finally with Rage in their hearts, the Garou chasing after the rolling boulder-bane catch up to it. Too-Good falls behind, the time spent treeclimbing wasting valuable seconds. Wyrmhammer makes first contact, smashing his hammer into the thick leathery skin of the thing. It in turn, turns towards the modi and rolls right towards him, smashing against the crinos with a powerful blow that knocks him off his feet. The Get Jarl fares better as her claws open a set of long lines that ooze some sludgey notion. It turn opens up a porous portion of its skin and blasts her with a gout of flame, setting fur on fire and singing her painfully on her face and upper torso.

The moving shadows proceed forth, but aren’t what appear to be banes. No, those are fomori… large, wolf-shaped fomori that move like a pack of shadows along. Unlike the original thought of three or four, though, there are instead a group double that size, but their midnight black fur soaks in the darkness. And they’re fast. Meanwhile, with Heart and Rington left at the bane, the pair of them find they might have bitten off a little more than they can chew. The snaking tail of the creature wraps around the Gaian ahroun’s neck after he makes his strikes and nearly severs the leg. But the pronged-tail lifts him straight off the ground, lashing in and arc and smashing the heavy crinos headfirst against the ground on the bane’s other side. Ringtone is the one who severs the leg, bringing the bane low. But there’s still much of it to rend, and it writhes in an attempt to snap its mouth around the Walker – it misses, but not at all by much.

To (Heart, Ringtone, Golden, On-Star, Falcon’s Grace), Blood-Guard pages: Aaaahhh. Okay, Heart has 5 non-agg, bashing, he’s stunned though. D:

Silvertip continues to Frenzy, even without his arm, raging against the spiked Black Spiral Dancer. The first grim job done, Lightning-Branch and Hummingbird split apart to help their sept-mates – Fernando rushes off to attempt to cave in the skull of the Dancer nearest him, while Chulash dives between the spiked Spiral and Silvertip to swing his club once, twice with animalistic ferocity at the neck of the spiky Crinos that harries the Uktena Ahroun while he tries to fill his attention. Speech-and-Silence realises he’s in dire trouble, but his options are limited. He redoubles his assault on the closest Dancer, desperately trying to bring at least one enemy down before he falls himself. Desh stows his gun as he dashes with that supernatural speed around to flank Kevin’s far opponent, shifting to Crinos as he barrels foward to tackle and claw the thing away from his comrade before it has much time to think elsewise.

Kaz cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, be described as fast. Luckily, Charlene and Javen can be, so from the south, they encounter the shadow-wolves first. With barely a hesitation, Charlene goes high and aims for its shoulder, trying very hard with a blurred speed to take a chunk out of it. Javen goes low and aims for its hamstrings, blurring with her own Rage. Morgan, staying by Kaz, and Kaz, limping as fast as she can, bowl into the creature in a miniature second wave, Morgan (spear held in one of her lower arms) slashing and clawing with completely unnatural speed, and Kaz trying hard to bowl it over, aiming her claws at its nether regions.

Seeing the size and nature of the Caern strike force for what it is, hearing the cries of Gaian and Walker left alone with the giant Bane, Blood-Guard wheels around and leads his party back to their aid. The Ahroun uses the speed of Rage to do so. He and Golden aim to rend that offending tail once they reach striking distance. Falcon’s Grace and On-Star mean to go after that already-weakened leg-stump. Meanwhile Ringtone dedicates his full attention to dodging, looking for openings to stay alive, and the impact-stunned Heart rages to attack once again.

Glass Breaker looks aghast for a moment, then enraged. ~Fucking no-guns BITCHES!~ he snarls, then charges forward, spurred on by a sudden spike of righteous anger. He runs right /past/ the gassy thing, slashing it with his claws in passing in a kind of low-tech drive-by. Growling under a hard-hacked breath, Leaves-None takes to Crinos and goes for any opening she can find on the boulder-bane. She’s still going low, like aiming for the tires on low-rider. Still undeterred by pain, though noticing that suddenly he’s limping somewhat, Wyrmhammer launches into full slice-and-dice mode. Reaching deep, he draws upon more rage and lashes out a flurry of blows. Another pair of fierce hammer blows are directed at the beast, aimed for the already injured sections to try and sink deeper. And then his claws lash out once to try and widen the wounds. Bag-of-Snakes ignores the flames scorching her for the moment at least, preferring to continue her work in savaging the boulderbeast and trying to increase the number and depth of her clawmarks in it. Too-Good, meantime, makes a leap from his lofty position, aiming to land on top of the boulder and dig his claws in real good, before pushing off again with his legs.

With Silvertip in a frenzied state, the damage done to both Garou is remarkable in that they’re both still kicking. Chulash clubs away at the spike-furred Garou, though one of his strikes bounces off the frenzied Uktena ahroun without doing any harm, the other crushing something in the Dancer’s facial bones. The spike-furred Dancer bellows in a rage, apparently in a frenzy of his own at this point and it’s do-or-die. The crinos sinks his claws into the belly of Uktena ahroun as Silvertip’s claws find the Dancer’s throat, mutually tearing bits out. It is the Dancer who falls first, but Silvertip close behind. With Fernando rushing in to help Kevin, Desh on the other side, the odds turn to 2-against-3 in the Gaian Garou’s favor. Fernando’s mace swings and slams into the skullfaced Dancer from Kevin, who extracts from the fray and howls a sick mockery of a battlecry, spittle and blood flying as it turns upon the ragabash and tackles the mace wielder with sheer body mass rather than any attack. Desh takes on the remaining mud-caked Dancer, whose fangs are around Kevin’s neck crushing the ragabash’s throat. It’s a loose grip that comes away as the Strider brings down the enemy, only then Desh is assaulted by the bloodied crinos, getting heavily clawed down his torso for his troubles. Kevin’s managed to injure his opponent enough, but his energy flags as he is unable to continue the fight.

It’s no ball of yarn that the group with Bag-of-Snakes assaults, and it comes to light as the Garou surround and attack. Glass Breaker’s claws leave long ‘bleeding’ marks, and the ragabash avoids a gout of flame that counters in response. Masao isn’t quite as lucky, getting a faceful of gas as she plunges her claws into and out of the tough leathery skin of the thing. Landing atop the bane, Too-Good is not blasted, but his foot and leg sink deep into an open pore, which closes around his leg muscle, keeping him from being able to jump away. Searing hot pain lances that leg, enough to drive the ahroun cub into a frenzied state of panic. Meanwhile the somewhat cooler heads prevail as Bag-of-Snakes and Wyrmhammer fully tear away massive chunks of the bane, where they might notice that the puffs of gas spewed at them lessen greatly, and the nasty ooze pours down the bane. It is not rolling anywhere now, nor even moving much.

The other bane keeps its tail wrapped around Heart, meaning to crush the Gaian ahroun with a backbreaker. But for now, it’s a rather discomforting squeeze he must endure as he claws at the tail holding him. With the arrival of Golden and Blood-Guard, the offending limb is finally severed in multiple spaces, and Ringtone once more manages to keep from getting more than a scratch from that seeking lamprey mouth. The bane is slower to move, not quite ‘all there’, it may seem.

Meanwhile further to the south, the packs of Garou and shadow wolves clash, and the first to be overwhelmed are Charlene and javen. The pair find themselves at bad odds, and though they get to enemy first, the enemies tear into them without mercy. The arrival of Falcon’s Grace and On-Star help to better even out those numbers, and blood spills on the ground. The blood of the shadow wolves hitting the ground utter a toxic sounding hiss and steam into the night air even as they eat away at the dirt below.

Blood-Guard, after that tail is shredded, attempts to clamp on to the thing’s spine (assuming it has one) in the leftover stump and rip it out entirely. Golden attempts to disentangle Heart from the tentacle, moving rapidly as he dodges all the while. Meanwhile, the beleagured bashes at whatever part of the bane his claws touch. Ringtone continues to dodge and attack when there are openings. On-Star utilizes hit-and-run tactics to try and help the Garou beleagured by the bane-wolves. Falcon’s Grace also attempts to get her licks in when she can, though she’s hanging back again, assessing the group in search of who is most injured.

The shadow wolf grazed Javen in passing; blood drips from her back. She and Charlene, who seems to be bleeding as well, though from where is unclear, rip into the thing, both of them blurring savagely. The support staff of Morgan and Kaz dive on it almost simultaneously, Morgan a whirling dervish where Kaz is more restrained.

Unable to avoid the faceful of ick, Leaves-None hacks for breath and outright hacks at where she last felt her claws sink in. Wyrmhammer just keeps on attacking at the same point. Trying to drive his hammer and claws into the very core of it. ~WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING DIE?~ He bellows as his hammer descends once again. The Jarl doesn’t waste breath cursing the foe; she just keeps walloping away at it. Oskar, on top of the thing, is beset by the desperate urge to run and has to summon up all his self-control to avoid fleeing. Glass Breaker circles back around, his head giving more of those twitchy dislodge-the-gnats shakes. He eyes the scene, then makes another drive-by claw-slash at the thing.

After ripping though the Black Spiral Dancer’s Throat, gives a frenzied bellow, before collapsing backwards unconscious. He stays in crinos, though – Silvertip is still alive. Speech-and-Silence’s battle is over, it seems. The Glass Walker, his body ravaged by a multitude of wounds, topples over and lies still, and with a shiver reverts from hispo to its breedform of homid. Fast-Draw rolls to the side of the offending foe, promptly leaping forward as a blur with claws extended towards its throat, slashing.Lightning-Branch and Fernando charge the Dancer that’s on top of Kevin, grab it by the haunches and bodily rip it apart. All goriness intended.

Two down, two left, Fernando and Desh fight on gamely. Not so fortunately, the Uktena ragabash has the upper hand taken away when he’s pummeled on the bottom, but turns the tables when he takes advantage of the crushed weak-side of the Dancer. They trade blows, but it is ultimately the Groundskeeper who emerges from the fray, gore spilling from his maw and blood spilling from an torn out throat on the Spiral. For the Strider, the pressure to stay alive is on and in the fight he manages to use a speedier hand to catch the enemy in the face, blinding him. The Dancer’s roar is cut short, the second attack being the final.

It’s difficult to say whose blow is the final straw, but the flashiest is definitely Wyrmhammer’s weapon smashing down upon the boulder creature. The hammer sinks a degree, getting stuck there for a moment. Then, as it remains there, the bane starts to vibrate rather dangerously. That’s… not a good sign…

Latching on to that thick tail base, Blood-Guard heaves. With a sickening squelch of sound, a good portion of spine detaches into the furious ahroun’s bloodied claws. After a few writhing flails, the bane sags against the ground, empty maw left open and exposed. Notably, the creature starts to dissipate from the reality of this world.

Back at the second fray, the battle hasn’t yet finished. Falcon’s Grace grabs one of the wolves as it chomps on On-Star’s tail, teeth skinning the fur from her but otherwise leaving little marks. Acidic blood splashes onto the Garou who attack the wolves and immediately their fur and skin begin burning with painful, nerve-inflaming speed. Javen and Charlene take down one between them, but three more tangle with the two Garou the same as Kaz and Morgan’s trio of targets that circle and attack the multi-armed metis and Sept Alpha. In time, the stronger Garou find themselves prevailing slowly but surely, even as their fingers and claws, fangs and maws burn with the touch of the Wyrm’s poisons. But in comparison, the shadow wolves are not a contest against Gaia’s Chosen. The enemies are brought low one by one, torn apart and maimed to death or incapacity.

~Bitch is gonna blow,~ says Glass Breaker, eyeing the gassy bane. Without waiting for orders, he retreats to find cover. Even trying to draw a clean breath after her attack, the gravity of the situation is certainly not lost on Leaves-None. Her attention goes to the young Get on top to make sure -he- can get free rather than just outright running, herself. ~Get out of there! Come on!~ But Too-Good remains marooned, his leg trapped inside the throbbing creature. ~Lift me!~ Bag-of-Snakes snaps to Leaves-None, aiming to get a leg-up on the bane to climb on top and free her cub, no matter what risk to herself. Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm’s eyes glance from hammer to cub, hammer to cub.. and then he snarls and lunges up to help the others free the youngster. He lunges straight at where the boy’s leg is grasped, using both strength and claws to either pull his leg out or flat out sever his foot.

Frostbite fights like it’s a chore, dispatching wolf after wolf as her skin burns and fur sizzles. She calls to Charlene to fight back to back with her, keeping the shadow wolves from splitting them apart and picking them off. She hisses as drops of acid get into her eye. Song-of-Vengeance powers through the pain, using her will to keep going, supporting Javen. When claws and teeth fail, fingers dig in to rip bones apart, crush windpipes and continually do damage until the shadow-wolves are no more. ~You will not have this place!~ She screams. Morgan, Fianna that she is, seems less affected by the acid, and cheerfully rips through wolves like a hot knife through butter. Kaz winces at the acid but keeps going, until all are vanquished, at which point she snarls out a howl of inarticulate triumph and glares around wildly.

Kevin and Silvertip remain wonderfully scattered like leftovers after at the Crash Test facility. Fernando raises his mace beside the fallen Silvertip, wary and watchful for any further attacks, lifting the fallen Ahroun and running off with him posthaste, away from the rumbling, dying Bane. Meanwhile Lightning-Branch looks down into his mirror where he stands and after a moment disappears into the Umbra, ostensibly to look for survivors and scout for any further threats. Fast-Draw, taking advantage of his speediness, ignores his wounds for the moment and rushes to scoop up the fallen Kevin, spiriting him to safety and cover far away from potential banesplosions.

Blood-Guard casts down the pieces of bane, even as they dissipate. He drops to all fours and takes off towards the site of battle with the Caern-bound banes. Ignorant of that fight’s outcome, he howls for the others of his band to follow. They run swiftly, some relying on rage and Gaia’s gifts to keep them going. Meanwhile, Falcon’s Grace quietly assesses the carnage and looks for those who require healing.

Punctuate that victory, as the elders manage to get the cub torn out of the bane. His leg isn’t entirely left behind either, instead the bane’s skin is severed through, ripped out around it. All four are on that bane when it finally does explode into a bunch of gas, shrapnel and flame. The Garou atop the ball are thrown a great distance, tumbling and rolling or smashing into a tree in the case of Bag-of-Snakes. None of them get up from that point, some of them in a smoldering heap of merrily heavily singed bodies. Glass Breaker is the lone conscious one of the group. Some trees look quite singed, but the heat isn’t enough nor prolonged enough to reach flashpoint.

Glass Breaker flinches at the explosion, grabbing at his ears. When the dust settles, he straightens up and looks back, grimacing at the scattering of scorched Get (and Gnawer). ~Fuuuuck.~

Bag-of-Snakes sits up after a few moments, looking as groggy as hell. ~Get! Report!~ she tries to shout, though it comes out as more of a croak.

Ringtone catches up with the new cliath of his tribe and looks her over nose to tail before turning, wide-eyed and ears alert, to look for his packmate.

Ears, some distance away, startles at the explosion and, true to the Garou nature, runs /toward/ the fire.

Song-of-Vengeance is normally quite pretty, but right now, with claws dissolved to the bone and teeth missing, giant patches of fur burned to the muscle below, she looks like she went swimming in a chemical waste dump. Still, the Fury isn’t nearly as hurt as some of the others and runs toward the explosion as best she can, limping a little, still running on adrenaline. This will most certainly hurt in the morning.

Carries-Fire is panting, ears flattened, but as Ears goes, she goes too, dogging along next to her packmate with only a single pause to yank her spear free. Poor thing is probably next to worthless at this point.

Frostbite straightens, her fur singed and her back bleeding. She squints out of the eye burned with acid, looking down at her melted claws. With a chuff, she gives a cursory glance to the fallen Get before glancing back to the ones she came with. Seeing them head off, she sinks down once more to hispo, sniffing at the ground. Disinterest is the best description of her expression, and she growls something to her shadow in the Mother’s Tongue.

Hummingbird sets Little Silvertip at the base of a tree, looking around to make sure it’s safe to leave his tribal elder, before the andean ragabash takes a sprint towards the mess.

Blood-Guard has to take a moment to realize Kaz and crew are already victorious. He starts to say something to Falcon’s Grace, but then the explosion booms across the bawn and he’s running along at top speed, towards it.

Leaves-None, for the most part, foregoes what one would consider perfectly understandable utterances of pain and passes out with a strangled sort of whine when she eventually lands in a pile of singed Gnawer.

Fast-Draw rises from his quickly-concieved cover, mottled fur grimey and thick with a mixture of his own blood and that of the Walker cradled in his arms. ~This one needs healing, /now/.~ An idle observer could determine the severe state of the armless, bleeding near-carcass of Kevin.

Carries-Fire breaks into a sudden, wild dash toward Kevin, on all fours. One of her lower arms clings to the acid-eaten spear. ~Coming, coming!~

Kevin is breathing. Just about. It might equally be described as rattling.

With On-Star close behind him, Ringtone runs flat out toward the explosion, searching, still for his packmate. When he catches her scent, mingled heavily with that of her blood, he picks up speed, leaving the new cliath to fall behind.

~I do not have the gift.~ Song of Vengeance murmurs through broken, burned lips, nearly dissolved completely from her face, the Fury trudging toward Little Silvertip’s fallen form. He is homid, she knows that much, and in Crinos that means he is not dead, only unconcious…and missing a leg. She does a search around the area for it, avoiding Silvertip’s silver spear if she comes across it, holding the mangled leg to the stump, hoping that it’ll re-attach itself.

Golden comes to a halt at the explosion, crouching down and pinning his ears. Seeing others moving back that way, he snarls his intentions to the passing Alpha, then shifts to lupus and darts out into the Bawn, moving silently and swiftly.

Long distance to Ears: Golden growls, ~Scouting for anything waiting in the wings.~

You paged Mekoides with ‘And, Tim is scouting for anything, to see if there are trails of things that escaped, or that might be waiting for them, etc. He won’t engage, and will make judicious use of Blissful Ignorance and Speed of Thought to keep from getting caught.’

Heart lopes after everyone, unsteady on his feet and the enormous bruises still shrinking away. He appears to have had a dent in his skull that is slowly filling in.

Frostbite sits among piles of dead shadow wolves, her flesh still sizzling with acid. Numbly, she watches it, her ear twitching. ~I look like a bane now~ She tells her shadow. She seems to find this horribly funny, and chuffs in breathless, hitching amusement, flopping to her side, her wagging tail whapping against the ground.

Fernando ends his dash when he gets to the scene of the disaster. To Ears, he pants, ~Fallen Tribe’s warriors. We killed them, but Speech-and-Sight-Rhya and Little Silvertip-Rhya are fallen. They live, but barely. We didn’t see more.~

Fast-Draw shakes his head at Carries-Fire gravely. ~His battle-scar is grievous. I don’t know him very well, but if you can heal it, I think this would be prudent.~ The Walker’s body continues to be cradled with great care.

When Ringtone finds Masao’s unconscious form, he halts, quivering from nose to tail. He looks, left to right and back again, searching for someone, or something. Not finding what he seeks, he lifts his muzzle to the sky and howls, just as On-Star reaches him. ~Healer! Someone help!~

Carries-Fire tosses her spear aside, uncaring at the moment where it lands, and reaches carefully for Kevin with all four arms, a plaintive whine in her throat. It doesn’t much look like she’s doing anything at first, but nevertheless, she’s calling on her gift.

Hammer-Of-The-Wyrm just lies in a puddle of viking, smouldering lightly. He’s in crinos but unmoving and horribly smashed up. Most of the fur burned from his fron, bone showing from bane-shrapnel lacerations.. In short, he’s out cold and going nowhere.

Bag-of-Snakes receives no reply from Oskar. No reply from Paul. And she says no more herself, slumping back against the tree into which she so recently slammed with such force, semi-conscious at best.

Leaves-None hasn’t returned to breed form just yet, but she certainly isn’t wagging a greeting to her packmate with her Crinos tail.

Both Blood-Guard and Falcon’s Grace arrive on the scene to answer the calls for healing. The Gaian Ahroun lets the Fang attend those with the gravest conditions. She starts towards Kevin, but then, seeing the fox take care of it, moves to Masao.

Ears’s claws are… well, melted. Nonetheless, she retrieves Morgan’s spear. ~/Yes/ please,~ she growls to Tim, and blinks at Fernando. ~Check. The bunch to the West are dead, too. I’ll check into the east inna bit. But to state the obvious, this shit can’t stand. These people can’t stand. And we have to follow their trail and our own gifts from Chimera. Soon. Tomorrow. But for now?~ She looks around. ~Zosia, Heart. Help them.~

Fast-Draw stand dutifully before Carries-Fire, holding Kevin while the gift takes effect.

Frostbite finally recovers from her giggle fit, pushes up to her feet, gaining Glabro. Somewhat disgusted, she brushes off her clothes, scratches off a few chunks of obnoxious melted skin, and turns to stride away, limping marginally.

~ by goldenjackal on March 12, 2010.