Place : Centre of the Caern

Time : It is currently 18:30 Pacific Time on Mon Mar 21 2005.

Weather : Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 39 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.66 and steady, and the relative humidity is 76 percent. The dewpoint is 32 degrees Fahrenheit (0 degrees Celsius.)

Moon Phase : Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (88% full).

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.

White Bear is slow down the northern trail, lumbering at rather gradual lope down the northern face of the Caern The Crinos 'wearing' his typical moot best, with red clay and some form of blue dye streaking over his clean white, and his coat freshly washed. A bundle of something herb smelling dangles from the warspear head. The Ahroun stops when he arrives at the edge of the Caern proper, sniffing the air.

Howls-For-Glory arrives from the direction of the farmhouse, pausing now and then to sniff at the air as he makes his way to the Caern's center.

Natalie leads Grey and Kevin in from the southwest, the trio already in homid. Nat's face is set, tight, even more on edge than would be suggested by the moon's pull. The three Walkers head over to join Tu.

Jacinta climbs down into the caern and makes her way toward her white packmate. The rifle she's carried recently is not present, and instead she's wearing her best formal Yup'ik garb.

Stalking amongst the Caern's center is Guards-The-Flame, rumbling lightly in her throat, looking to be upon edge and unapproachable for a change. She heaves in one deep breath after the other, quietly growling in the back of her throat, ears slanting backwards to her skull.

Grey -- known once as Scar, or Salem, or Walker just before he left -- looks thinner for his year away, more closed, his expression and body language carefully guarded and controlled, rage simmering under his skin. His hands are in his pockets and he looks at no one. The shameful glyphs scarred into his forearms are, unfortunately and deliberately, quite noticeable.

Kevin walks closer to Grey than to Natalie as he follows the rest of his tribe in, face sullen, and chewing nervously on his lip. He gives Tu a quick thumbs-up -- so quick that the other ragabash would miss it if he wasn't looking at the right moment.

Tu nods respectfully to Natalie when she arrives. "Rhya", then he greets the others of his tribe giving a small wink to the cub.

Dakota slowly watches each person that files into the caern one by one, her back leaning against the tree trunk with her hands on the ground. Her eyes then fix briefly on Alicia at the center and a frown touches the Theurge's lips, but she's quick enough to look away and continue her observations.

Natalie greets Tu with a nervous smile - almost a baring of her teeth, then shifts up into Crinos. ~Have you seen Sifhuil?~

Picking her way along, Three-Blades makes her way to the center of the caern as well. One she's scented her packmates, the ragabash makes a beeline towards them, and greets each with a short bump of her furry head.

The Hulking, nine foot tall form of Rips off The Face of the Forath continues to watch silently with arms crossed over his large chest, staring at those who gather, taking in each new face, ears twitching slightly upwards. He is breathing slowly, heavily.

White Bear looks marginally pleased as Jacinta enters, his jaw cracking open in some form of pleasure as he makes a more vocal greeting to her. The good mood is fleeting, though, as he finishes making his way to the windy spot and snorts and sniffs at the air again, looking around. Grey catches the Ahroun's attention fairly quickly; the guardian leans forward, eyes squinting as he peers at the other skeptically.

Tu shakes his head in response to the inquiry. "I haven't."

Untangler comes into the Caern from the east, his tail held high out behind him, his chin up, his loose legs trotting along with high easy steps. The wolf is pleased and proud and he exudes it across the gathering, not even really looking at anyone except for his packmates, whom he comes streaming towards with a bounce to his step and happy greetings.

Grey's eyes narrow at Natalie, the others shift upward prompting a thin frown. Then he looks over at Kevin, taking in the cub's mood and show of nerves. No one else gets his attention at the moment.

Holds-the-Line swears, a low-voiced grumbling, then steps away from the others. Raising her muzzle to the heavens, Holds-the-Line swells up her chest and takes in a deep breath, belting to the dark skies. ~Come brothers and sisters of the Hidden Walk, tonight we gather under the moon!~

Bites trails Untangler, the Wendigo theurge keeping her nose to the ground as she weaves her way between garou to take her place with the rest of Ridgeline.

Dakota offers Three-Blades a smile from her spot seated under her favorite tree and gives the Ragabash's fur an affectionate ruffle as she comes over and murmurs to her. "Hey. Long time no see, packmate. What's up?"

Stacey heads back over to stand next to Dakota as Holds-the-Lines calls for the proceedings to begin.

Dagger's-Edge, like a black shadow moving along the ground paces his way in alone. The Shadow Lord halfmoon's ears are flattened back with tense hostility towards everything and anyone tonight. Rather than joining any of the groups present, he positions himself at a fair distance and sits, head ducking down between his shoulders.

Judges-Souls arrives in lupus, blurring into crinos as she reaches the caern. She sticks off to one side of the wood, remaining quiet as she looks around her. The Get folds her massive forearms across her scarred chest.

Kevin catches Grey's look and holds himself a little more upright, his jaw setting firmly, as the howl begins. He frowns in concentration as he listens and watches.

As the howl echoes and reechoes from the valley walls, the heavy form of Reggie stomps his way towards the gathering of Garou, his gaze measuring those familiar and those not as familiar.

Yi licks at the wrist of her theurge packmate, and responds that the moon in the sky is well and up. A jaunty cant of her ear suggests humor, though she turns her attention towards the howl once it sounds.

Grey gives the cub next to him a nod and mutters a translation of Natalie's howl to the young Ragabash.

As the Garou of the Hidden Walk assemble, Holds-the-Line slips up to the rocky outcropping, eyes glowing slightly with moon filled rage. The Caller and the Fool begin their back and forth dance, calling out the first tenet of the litany which easily gets called down by the warriors of the Sept.

~Combat the Wyrm wherever it dwells and breeds!~ The Galliard rumbles out towards the Ragabash. ~This law is unassailable.~

White Bear's facing the wrong direction to catch Horace and Holly's arrival, and looks fairly shocked when he finally looks away form Grey long enough to catch the fact that, hey, they're there. He offeres the two an abortive vocal greeting, before the the Moot starts.

Aubrey comes in quietly, sneaking past the trees and into the bawn as she looks around her. The Fianna looks for someone she might wish to stand by. Oddly enough, she walks over to Dakota, standing near her.

Three Garou come in from the west, feet slapping against the rock slab as they enter just a little late, hurrying along as the moot starts up. Olga and Joey with a show of amused nervousness and apology take up their place, and trailing slightly behind them, scowling horribly at having been made late by her accompanying the two Gnawers, is Kathryn-Laura, at once seeming with them, and trying to show, by her face and a couple feet's distance, that it wasn't her fault. Olga dumps her bag down on the ground, looks up with an embarassed grin, and with a puff of breath and a look of relief, begins to watch the Fool.

By the waterfall, ~Madness~, is the reply of the Walker No-Moon. ~Have you even given thought to what this means?. Combat the Wyrm /wherever/ it breeds? It breeds /everywhere/. ~ His left arm shoots up towards the city and hangs there, as the ragabash continues his thought. ~Is there a single place in the city where it does not lie? Hidden! Spreading its influence over all who live there!? No! The wyrm breed everywhere. It breeds in all of us, waiting for us to give in to its constant temptation. It breeds in the secrets we keep from each other, the violence we revel in, and the hatred we feel for one another. ~ Like a weapon he swings his arm around those gathered, stopping with his finger pointing directly at Stone-Spirit. ~It breeds in you~. He swings his arm again, and it sweeps across the faces of those gathered, dipping and lifting until it comes to rest on Heals-the-Rifts. ~...and it breeds in you~ Another move of his arm, though it is unclear if movements are random, or have some purpose behind them. This time it ends on Long-Climb-Ahead. ~...and you.~ 

His voice grows like a storm now, rumbling away from him in winds of accusation, his arm and his attention still pointedly focused on Long-Climb-Ahead ~Shall we combat whatever wyrm is breeding inside of this one? Shall we taken him now before it is too late? Before he turns against us?~ Spies-the-wyrm shakes with rage, and for a moment he appears to be contemplating doing just that, before dropping his arm and turning away. ~The wyrm breeds in all of us. When do we start the battle?~

Dakota blinks once as Aubrey appears beside her, slightly suprises, but she does offer the other Theurge a smile of greeting that is also passed to Stacey before turning her attention to the Fool as he points towards her. "If you cannot fight the urge of the Wyrm in yourself than there is no hope you can battle the Wyrm in any other way. Slay all the Banes in the world but if one remains in you than the Corrupter has won."

Three-Blades snaps out sharply, ~If we ever start fighting the Wyrm by fighting ourselves, we'll start with You!~

Howls-For-Glory shifts up to crinos, a growl coming from the back of his throat. ~Madness! The strong will resist the Wyrm's pull!~

Grey continues to occupy himself with translation duties for Kevin, paraphrasing mostly. He's noticeably silent for the First Law, and narrows his eyes thoughtfully at Tu for the Ragabash's angle of attack on the Second. Then he continues murmuring to the cub next to him.

The apparent target of the Fool's arm-gesture scowls back at Spies-the-Wyrm, a scowl that redoubles when Grey translates for him. "Look within yourself!" Kevin shouts back, fists clenched. "You so damn squeaky clean and Wyrm-free, buster? You sure? I'm not."

Judges-Souls remains sulkingly quiet at the edge of the trees, meanwhile, Aubrey smiles and places her hands in her pockets. The Fianna looks around her and simply listens, nodding her head every so often when she hears something she agrees with.

Untangler makes up in earnestness what he lacks in insightfulness: the Ragabash' fur bristles, his paws splay tight against the ground. If the Wyrm is in you, then you fight you! he grows back at the Fool, like his suggestion is the easiest and most obvious thing.

White Bear doesn't take very long to be snarling at the Fool, eyes rounding out as he peels his lip back. ~If you find the wyrm in yourself, you -fight it!-~

Reggie uses the rowdiness of the Litany session to shuffle through the crowd while offering his rebukes to the Fool in the form of not particularly clever retorts like 'Your mama!' and 'Argggh!' while a fist is shaken, until he arrives in the vicinity of Ridgeline, although he doesn't recognize Horace on sight.

The next four laws tick by as the Garou of the Caern get even more riled up. The Walker's Galliard is hardly immune to the raw energy that has nearly suffocated the air, her fur all but standing on end. She bellows across the Caern for all to hear, ~You shall not eat the flesh of Humans! Only those already Wyrm-tainted would think to break this law.~ She snaps her jaws towards Spies-the-Wyrm, waiting in vicious anticipation.

By the waterfall, Spies-the-wyrm, moves to the waterfall shifting up to the war form. He lifts his arm, and points in the general direction of the wolf woods. ~How many of us have hunted in these woods? How many rabbits have been sacrificed to fill our stomachs? Or mice, or voles, or skunks? We do so without fretting over possible Wyrm taint, or whether or not the porcupine has a family. We're hungry, and we eat.~ Arm still pointing, he rotates a quarter of a turn, now pointing towards the city. "Across the river, waits more food than we could ever eat. And each year they get fatter and fatter, a smorgasbord of caloric delight. " He drops his hand to his side, and makes another quarter turn. ~Why are they better than the rabbit? More deserving of life than the Vole?~

Dagger's-Edge shakes his fur out violently at the calling of this particular law. The Fool's retort is unanswered, but the halfmoon bares his teeth along in involuntary reply.

~Humans in the scab eat bad things, and have taint in them.~ White Bear notices the number of people not shouting down the fool, hackles raising as he turns hostility from Tu to a number of them. Thus, he's quite loud when he finishes snarling a quite vocal ~Not eat poison!~

"Because rabbits and voles will not gather together in their thousands and millions to retaliate against us!" Kevin suddenly cries out at the top of his voice, then blinks as though he's surprised himself by giving so violent a voice to that retort. The cub's fists are still clenched in tight balls.

Grey's voice, familiar to some, carries clearly across to the Fool, full of practiced scorn. "Voles are not part of our heritage, or hadn't you noticed?"

Dakota scowls from her place under an old tree and snorts slightly. "Our natural prey does not feed the Wyrm with greed and hatred. If we consume the flesh of humans than we take into ourselves their sickness. If you wish to sicken yourself than be prepared to be cleansed with tooth and claw."

Endures-Pain merely watches the Fool, sitting with her pack. The Silver Fang seems, oddly enough, a touch distracted. Perhaps it is the proximity of the caern that is causing it, regardless, she only occasionally howls at a point she agrees with.

Olga has barely settled herself into place, with her blankets and bags, when the tenet she's been waiting for comes up. She doesn't shout back at it though, not first at least: the Gnawer's eyes scan across the Garou all squinted up and accusing. White Bear's and Kevin's and Dakota's retorts get sneers just as great as she'd given the Fool, though her disdain is slightly and temporarily flummoxed when she catches sight of Grey there. Still she regains herself: "No!" the woman fairly screams out at everyone else. "It's not because they're bad you idiots, it's because they're _us_! It's _cannibalism_! Would you eat wolves?"

~The animals are part of the natural cycle! Humans have left that cycle! We whould not join them!~ Howls-For-Glory glares at his packmate.

By the waterfall, Spies-the-wyrm bares his teeth, apparently unconvinced by the shouting of the crowd. ~Of course, such things should not be spoken about in polite society. I'm sorry I brought it up here. We need to pretend that we don't do such things, except to those we know will protects us.~

Grey's glance flicks sidelong toward Olga at the Gnawer's scream, his face unreadable. Soon, his attention's back on Kevin. More translations.

The rest of the Litany passes in like fashion - the Master of the Howl reciting each tenet, the Fool contradicting her and being shouted down by the others. As the last of the Opening Howl is completed and the air is throbbing with the gathered energy of the Sept, 

Holds-the-Line catches the Fool's eyes and drops him a nod. She lets out a slow breath, then strides back towards her tribemates, her form visibly shaking.

Joey scoots closer to Olga as the voices call out, curling half under the blanket. The Gnawer leans up to whisper something at the Theurge, face grinning mischievously.

Olga sinks back down against the ground, lips and eyes tight, glowering out over the gathering. The mood of the moot and the moon gets to her, and controlling herself as best she can she looks away for a few seconds. Joey's whisper gets a smirk but she's too rattled to respond to the girl.

The Fools goading manages to wrest White Bear's attention back from the quiet folks, shouting all the louder at the fool to rebuke him. And so he alternates between hostility at Tu and anyone who isn't angry enough at the Fool for the remainder of the Calling.

By the waterfall, Spies-the-Wyrm nods as well, then slowly moves back to the center looking a little bit worn for his efforts.

Striding forward towards the center of the Caern is Rips off the Face of the Forath, carrying what appears to be quite a large bone between his paws. He is breathing slowly, staring out into the waves of the Sept, tensed and angered from the Fool's stupidity of the Litany. ~Tonight, I bring this bone in honor of the Moot, in honor of the Hidden Walk Sept, of its great totem Chimera.~ The Forsetti says with a rumbling growl in his throat. ~With this bone, I will snap it before you, and like the marrow within, we will seek out the root and the truth of the words of our people. The time is now for those with news to step forward. I remind you all. No one better talk out of turn, or they will answer to my claws. All /will/ speak properly in the Mother's Tongue, or I shall tear yours out.~ He says, snorting out a blast of hot air from his nostrils, eyes narrowed, then motions with the bones forward before him, snapping them in half with a deadly *crack*, splinters of bone falling to the ground to his paws.

Taking the bone and drawing herself up with an unconscious and dignified grace, Endures-the-Pain surveys the gathered Sept Members. ~Garou of the Hidden-Walk. I have several things of which to speak. First, as has been passed, there is a new pack that received guidance from Magpie. We are called Birdseye and I am the alpha. 

Sends-Down-The-Flood-Of-Flames, Howls-For-Glory and Spies-The-Wyrm run with me. We have taken areas of the City as our territory and we will scout and gather information for the Sept. We are also gathering information and intelligence on the healing place in the city for Signe and working on assessing the current situation with it. If you wish to speak on this, approach me later.~ Apparently the Fang is one for brevity tonight as she passes the bone to the next person.

Spies-the-Wyrm seeks out his packmates, stopping next to them and turning his attention to the cracking.

Holds-the-Line scarcely has time to rejoin the others before she's called forward by the Truthcatcher. She takes the bones from Endures-the-Pain and turns to face the assembly. ~I have four things,~ the Galliard announces. ~First: Bends-the-Rules-While-Smiling has abandoned us again. I have claimed leadership of the Glass Walkers. Second, the Ahroun, Scratch, has also left the Sept. Third. The safehouse is completed. Any who wishes to stay there can. If they remain longer than a few days, they must contribute in some fashion. Finally. The veil breach in the city has been repaired. All the humans involved have been taken care of. We continue to keep a watch on them.~ Though unusually terse, the Walker seems to be finished, for she hands the bones back to the Get.

Howls-For-Glory butts his head lightly against Spies-the-Wyrm as he returns to the pack, grumbling something in an undertone to the Ragabash. Then, he turns to listen to the announcements, straightening with pride at the introduction of their pack.

Dagger's-Edge flicks his ears as the announcements progress, not exactly paying attention, but not distracted to the point of missing the announcements.

Endures-Pain settles back beside her pack, reaching a hand out to absently pat Spies-the-Wyrm, giving the walker a look of approval. She remains sitting up painfully straight.

Untangler listens very nicely and respectfully to all the announcements of things he doesn't understand and places he's never been. Only once does he do anything to try and stifle his boredom, ducking sneakily forwards to nip playfully at Rags' paw as the big Garou comes near, before settling back in with his pack.

Judges-Souls takes the bones and walks into the caern center. ~I've come to y'all t'night to gain back some of the renown that I'd lost because of my mistake. When I make a mistake, I make sure that I correct it properly, thus is what it has been such a long time to get back to the sept the news concernin' t'incident. In October, I met with Layne-rhya and was given conditions in order ta clear up t'incident.~ Judges-Soul's begins, although she looks to everyone as if they even shift during her speech that she'll slap them in the back of the head and make them listen to every damn word that comes out of her mouth. ~I t'was expect'd ta patrol m'pack territory durin' that time around Wolf Woods where all the shit had gone down, an' check up fer any other occurrences since them in May.~ Judges-Souls rumbles in her thick, Midwestern accent. ~When I wasn't patrolin' I went to the city to pester Natalie and Yi fer information and... yeah. ~ The Philodox scratches her head some, giving a look between the crowd. ~And, then I t'was asked ta report back to t'sept and explain all of this t'ya and what I'd found out and make sure every thing is fine and dandy so I can get back to shit and stop havin' to go through all this business that shouldn't have occurred in the first place.~

Judges-Souls can see a few lazy eyes and growls loudly in warning that she will smack someone in the head, her nostrils flaring for a moment. ~Listen cubs, ya don't want this shit happenin' to you when you're an adult. Listen!~ The grey wolf settles a little, her eyes flickering to those around her, and she continues with her speech. ~Firstly, their ain't nothing going on in the woods. The security around 'em woods has been heightened but not due to wolves, they say, but fer something like paranoid gov't officals think' that WWNP could be a chosen spot to attack for terrorists of somethin' like that nonsence. And t'campground is just busy with upcoming tourists and shit. There hasn't been any other occourances in 'em woods there concerin' us, er... werewolves.~ She continues. ~I wasn't able to get Natalie and Yi to work together at all, but I met with 'em separately. I was also able to get help from a few kin. T'videotape that was taken from the incident was retrieved by Reggie and given to Layne-rhya, an' I believe it was then destroy'd.~ 

Judges-Souls continues on speaking. ~Them STD sorority girls, I found out, have graduate's or really didn't care, they brushed me an' a few others that approached them. Rillie, Fenrir kin, spoke with them they're unconcern'd or do not know of any type of veil breakin'. This uh, The BAT frat, on the other hand, suffered a serious rep hit and since has been tryin' to recover their 'awesome frat' status with students~ The Crinos growls and rolls her eyes.

~And 'behaving' for the college admins.~ She goes on, looking winded by her talk, almost to the point of frustration. ~Only this Bach-guy remains as a member of it, but he's on the verge of graduating. Devin, the jock I'd attack'd, dropped outta school, he's workin' somewhere some reatail. He don't talk to anyone about the incident. He don't seem to remember anything either. Brian, the leader that Reggie pound'd, was knocked out long before the veil breach. The only trouble there was that the shit had start'd the trouble in the first place. Well, he withdrawn from school to recover his heath and was kicked out of the frat. No one talks to the guy because he just goes off. Anyway, he was charged fer a number of park rules and he is workin'.~

Spies-the-Wyrm leans into the head butt, trembling slightly, though his attention remains mostly on the cracking.

Judges, herself, begins to grow restless and shifts on her feet, her tone growing tense. ~ Thomas Taylor, the cameraman, suffered a broken arm and concussion, was expelled, appealed, and allowed back to SCCU but didn't go. He instead went to a community college nearby, graduated, and moved away from t'city since then. Bach, has remained in town it appears. From t'news I have geathered about him, he seems to be a shady fellow and appears to be very mellow-like he's got some head-problem. They guy is closed lidded. Some sources have revealed that this guy had helped Josh once getting' the Walker kin out of a fix. Ain't anything Wyrmy about him, but an eye should be kept on him, since he seemed unaffected by the Curse. All the questioning about the incident in the woods was shrugged off.~ The Crinos slows her speech down to a slow drawl, ~One curious note~ she rumbles. ~The Walker-kin, Jeremy had once posed as an SCCU college newspaper reporter who was trying to find 'em out, when the news had hit the tabloids and papers and internet. What he got was a really shaky story, thus provin' that t'ain't any real werewolves, just people in costume. The costumes were property of the Black Dogs LARP group, buncha dorks in the university who meet every so often to LARP out in the woods. They stopped doing that though, after the hoax.~ The female pauses, then goes on once more, ~The tabloids stopped runnin' that story long time ago...~

~ Fuck! Cubs, don't go ape in front of people! I will fuckin' kick your ass! You hear? You don't want to have to spend goddamn -fuckin'- months making sure that everything is all -fucking- alright.~ The Crinos snarls. The female shrinks back into homid, hands the bones off, and stalks to a log where she sits heavily and takes out a smoke from her pocket. She doesn't light it, just starts gnawing at the end.

Three-Blades steps up to take the bones, glancing this way and that at the crowd. ~Hidden Walk, I am sure you are aware that we are not the only shapechangers who fight for Gaia. There are the rats, the ravens, cats, dragons... in short, though, I wish to announce to you that there is a raven-changer in our midst. Her name is Val Finds-Stories, and I believe she has met a few of you, or perhaps you have met her whether you knew it or not. Either way, I believe she is a great ally and friend to our cause. She too, has travelled the Umbra and seen the terrible state of the city's Shadow. Perhaps with her sharp eyes and help, we will learn more about where we can strike the Wyrm at unprotected belly.~ The ragabash pauses, expression serious. ~So don't eat her.~ With that, she returns the bones to the Truthcatcher and resumes her spot from before in the crowd's midst.

The Child of Gaia approaches the Get of Fenrir and takes the bones from him without much of a second look, striding towards the center of the caern, holding them up high over her head. Lowering her eyes, she begins to rumble deeply in the back of her throat, sighing out heavily. ~Last week was filled with many twists and turns, confusions, cover-ups and heart breaks. Last week, two Garou lost their lives, and I will tell their final tale. That of the once Shadow Lord Elder by the name of Song of Fury, and the explosive Cliath Shadow Lord known as Thunders-Forge.~ 

Pacing, Guards-The-Flame lets out one loud breath after the other as she starts once more, fur raising on the back of her neck. ~A week ago while on patrol, Walks The Middle Road and I came upon a deranged Hispo running openly through the city streets, darting in and out of one shadow after the other. We gave chase, our senses alert, not knowing who it is that we were hunting. It wasnt until we were attacked that we discovered it was the Ahroun Lord, insane and out of his mind, lunging towards us, eyes glowing brightly in rage. He attacked my young Ahroun first while she kept him busy, and then I lept as well, bringing him down with my strong Hispo jaws once the battle was out of the streets and out of the sight.~ Here, she pauses for a moment.

Walks-Middle folds her arms as she listens to the announcements with interest, even more so at the mention of Val, and she smiles as the Corax is called a possible ally.

White Bear looks none too pleased at the story of Jarred, the ahroun bearing teeth as he leans on his weapon to listen impatiently. The hostility intensifies at the mention of what Lucas had been doing.

KL is in a semi-crouch behind and to one side of Olga, her eyes darting from one Garou to another from behind her hair that is falling in a curtain in front of her face. At mention of the raven changer she starts, then looks thoughtful. She leans over and whispers something to Joey.

Holds-the-Line keeps one ear cocked on Guards-the-Flame's story, but the other half of her attention is on the Sept, eyes skimming over the gathered Garou.

~We noticed a large storm drain near by and there was the scent of death in the air. Upon inspection, we noticed that it was filled-, with half devoured bodies of about eight people, as well as cats and dogs. The Shadow Lord was crazed, out of his mind and he has been eating people and hiding them remains.~ Guards-The-Flame pauses as she darts her eyes about those gathered, letting out a hard breath, her chest rising. ~We called Cutter, Fostern Theurge of the Shadow Lords and he drove us to the Bawn, where Calls the Spirits and I preformed the Ritual of Cleansing upon the fallen, causing black ichor to drip out from his mouth, washing the stain of taint away.~ Lumbering in a wide circle, she gestures with her hands and claws as she speaks, her voice deadly, angered, with a hint of sadness behind it.

~Afterwards, I spoke with one Garou after the other, many here knows who they are. I ran into Bloods-Bane first after speaking to the Alpha and he told me that he was aware that Thunders-Forge was thought to have been getting better. Upon further inquiry, where pled innocent to unknowing his own pack mate was aware that he was eating people, he spoke that Fights for Hope and Songs of Fury both knew of the young Ahrouns condition and that the Theurge was to create a talen or bind a spirit to the young Lord to help calm him down.~ She growls loudly, eyes widening. ~What is that?! A Theurge who didnt bother to check for the Wyrms touch first, or suggest a cleansing either? Is that wise at all? Bloods-Bane then went on to tell me that he was ordered by the Elder Lord to stay quiet or else, and so.. he felt that in his pack mates best interest, he would keep his mouth shut.~ Pausing, she lets out a angered snarl, watching for the reactions of the Sept.

Dagger's-Edge, upon seeing Guards-Flame take the bones, ducks back down and retreats some steps more. The Shadow Lord has no intention on finding a spotlight swiveled upon him, and thus does his best to blend in with the sparse brush.

Dakota watches her Elder with rapt attention, face drawn tight with tension eventhough she has heard this story many times since it began.

Grey splits his attention between the speaker and the cub he's translating for. He's grimacing throughout most of the sordid tale, and once gives Dagger's Edge a thoughtful glance.

Endures-Pain doesn't look surprised at the mention of the Corax so apparently this isn't news to the Fang. And judging by her expression, the Gaian's story isn't much of a surprise either. She looks outright disgusted at the news about the other Theurge, a growl coming from her.

Walks-Middle becomes extremely serious during the telling of this story, her body tensing visibly.

Kevin is getting a running translation of all this from Grey, and as the story unfolds his young eyes get wider and wider. At the mention of eating humans he seems ready to spit on the sacred ground at his feet from sheer disgust. Thankfully, he doesn't.

~From there I spoke with many more Garou, finding one trail after the other to follow, one that led me to Daggers-Edge, the Half Moon Cliath and packmate of Thunders-Forge. He told me bluntly that Song of Fury and Fights for Hope were supposed to be helping him and that he /was/ aware he was eating people, well before the LAST MOOT! And that his appetite for human flesh started when he was a cub. Yet.. still no sense for the Wyrm? No Cleansing? He claims that he had no clue he was tainted.~ She nearly roars the last words. ~HOW!? Can anyone be so foolish? So bullheaded to not recognize the touch of the Wyrm? The young Ahroun was not aware of his own actions, he has been a victem of his own anger, Thralling one night after te other, seeking out the Wyrms appetite, devouring one person after the other and yet, two Fostern, one of them a Theurge, and two other Garou didnt bother to simply check for the basics!~ Her fists squeeze tightly, fur and hackles high.

~Litany breakers!~ Holds-the-Line snarls, her ears laying almost flat against her skull.

Howls-For-Glory growls at hearing the story, ears flattening against the back of his skull.

~From there, under Alphas orders myself, Defiant Storm and the Glass Walker known as Thomas Grey, set forth to Shadows End to claim Thunders-Forge and bring him back to the bawn to be kept under watch so that a proper punishment could occur.~ Guards-The-Flame says with a nod of her head, firmly. ~From there, we met with the pack of Requiem, minus their Get of Fenris compatriot, and Song of Fury himself, who demanded why we come take /his/ Shadow Lord away. From there he called me names, called me a pawn of the Alpha, egged Defiant-Storm on into trying and getting her to attack. Something didnt seem right, something was wrong. The conversation became heated and Thunders-Forge stepped forward, conceding to capture and saying he was willing to face his punishment like a true Garou, because he was angry at his tribe and pack for giving him the help that he needed. He was not afraid.~

~From there, Song of Fury began to taunt his own tribe mates, calling them pathetic and weak. We learned that the Elder made the cubs go on their passage to bargin with vampires against their better judgment. We learned that the Elder told the Ahroun to slay his Half Moon pack mate if the other proved to be too weak during their Rite as well. We also learned that he indeed, told Requiem to stay quiet about the taint that was growing inside Thunders-Fhorge, and he seemed to hardly care about the charges brought up against him. Then..~ Here, she pauses, trying to reign in her anger.

White Bear's temper spirals upward, the looking increasinly angry to the point where he's shaking. He growls wordless to himself, barly restraining himself from shouting back.

A howl of fury and anger comes from Endures-the-Pain, almost immediately cut short. It is clear that the Fang theurge is furious, Rage coursing through her at the story.

Three-Blades, having heard the extent of the story, has her eyes locked on the storyteller. Her ears flatten, and the ragabash lowers herself to the ground in a sort of despair even as the action builds.

~At once.. Thunders Forge and Daggers Edge attacked the Elder Shadow Lord, having had enough of his insults. I remember the final words of the Ahroun as he lept.. he yelled for all to hear.. Daggers Edge was never the weak one! It was obvious that he loved his pack mate and brother deeply, and that enough was enough. They would tolerate insult no longer. The battle was deadly and Song of Fury fought with every bit of his might. He held off the pair for what seemed like forever, until finally his sharp claws found the precious throat of the Ahroun, while the Half Moons stole the Elders. Both fell dead, with only Daggers Edge left alive. The punishment was fitting for the Elder, for he foolishly toyed with the litany, but for the Ahroun? At least he died like a Garou.~ Stepping back, she lets out a loud growl in her throat, frustration evident. ~So there.. Hidden Walk.. the last story of the Shadow Lord Elder and his protege. Son turned against father. What happens now is for the Alpha to decide. Combat the Wyrm wherever it dwells and breeds.. Do not eat the flesh of humans, and /never/ let a Caern be violated. The tainted Ahroun was at our last moot, standing before us.. and none of us were even aware.~ She looks terribly stressed and angered by her final words as she hands the bones back, heading for her pack once more, shaking.

A low growl escapes from Spies-the-Wyrm as he again hears the story. His claws twitch as he listens to the final battle and the demise of the Shadow Lords. ~Good.~

Olga listens to the story closely and watches its teller with dull tired eyes. She almost, to a superficial glance, might look disinterested, tired; but she keeps very still, and her fingers cling angrily at the fabric of her clothes.

Jamethon stands, hands clenched at the accusations leveled, but remains silent. His eyes look off into the distance, with a certain sadness.

Reaching for the bones once more, Forath-Ripper is shaking with rage at the charges brought up, letting out a fierce growl. He waits a few more minutes to let the anger sink in and for anyone else to step forward, then begins once more in his deep throat. ~Now is the time for those who seek challenge, to step forward and let their annoucement be known.~

Kevin is almost at fever point as Grey relates the story to him. As he hears of the death of the two Garou, he grits his teeth and thumps one fist into the palm of his other hand. Seemingly this display of anger isn't enough for him, because he promptly shifts up to Crinos and does it again, more impressively.

Rags reflexively pulls away his paw from the nip, has a second thought and begins to swing his paw back to smack the impertient nipper, but the unfolding story entraps his attention from finding the nipper for the delivery, and his hands hang loose, as he listens appalled to it.

Walks-Middle scowls down at the ground as she hears of the deaths, then she looks off towards the waterfall, her expression a mixture of rage and sadness.

Dakota reaches out and places a hand quietly upon her cousin, eyes reflecting her packmate's sadness and strain. Then, the pregnant Theurge slowly rises and steps forward to take the bones. "Forgive me, brothers and sisters, for remaining in homid while I speak. I mean no disrespect but I will not endanger the lives I carry with needless shifting. Since I do not see our Warder among us, I will relay his message. Many of you will already know I have retaken the tending of the farmhouse in Trevor's absence, and I asked Seeker two nights past about stepping up as Master of the Rite. The Warder wishes to give others who are interested time to step forward. So, if you are, seek him out soon." This said, she returns the bones and resumes her seat by the tree.

White Bear just looks like regular piss and vinegar over there, looking not sad in the least. Rather, he looks like he'd rather inflict a gory death on someone right then and there.

Howls-For-Glory grumbles, reaching out and shredding the bark from a fallen log. In a foul temper, the Galliard watches the goings-on with half-hearted interest.

Holds-the-Line motions for Forath-Ripper's attention and steps forward once more, reclaiming the bones. ~I have remembered one last piece of news. Just one month ago Hunts-the-Web went on his final test to become Cliath. He died in the Umbra under an onslaught of spiders. This news is known, but he deserved to have this formally announced.~ Once more she steps back, joining the other Walkers.

Reaching for the bones once more, Forath-Ripper is shaking with rage at the charges brought up, letting out a fierce growl. He waits a few more minutes to let the anger sink in and for anyone else to step forward, then begins once more in his deep throat. ~Now is the time for those who seek challenge, to step forward and let their annoucement be known.~

Dagger's-Edge meanwhile, has crept away to a point where he's fairly certain the Garou gathered have not yet noticed him. Once the announcements and stories are done, the halfmoon resumes his listening.

Walks-Middle shifts her gaze to Natalie, shaken by the news of the death of Saul.

Holds-the-Line stops at the announcement of Challenges. Giving a glance toward the Wendigo she steps forward once more - she'll wear a path in the caern if she keeps this up. ~I am Holds-the-Line,~ she growls clearly, drawing herself to her full height. ~Galliard, Glass Walker Elder, and Cliath. And I Challenge Sifhuil of the Fianna for the rank of Fostern.~ Her eyes seek out the red-furred wolf.

Spies-the-Wyrm turns his gaze from the Walker elder to the challenged Fianna, anxious to see if Holds' challenge is accepted.

Sifhuil emerges from the shadows. Has she been here all along? The Fianna halfmoon rears up, lengthening into her crinos shape and rumbles her reply, ~I, Sifhuil, Fostern Philodox of the Fianna accept your challenge for rank, Holds-the-Line. Be prepared to receive your terms before the moon is again half-full.~

Holds-the-Line ducks her head to the Fianna, and returns to the other Walkers' sides yet once again.

Endures-Pain's expression is once again impassive and she seems more intent to giving attention to her packmates than what is going on at the moment.

Three-Blades looks up as Holds-the-Line challenges for fostern. The Gnawer ragabash sweeps her ears back and looks away, a low incoherent rumble gurgling out from her chest.

Howls-For-Glory watches the challenge being issued for a moment, then turns away from the news. He still appears to be in an ill mood, worrying a set of gouges into the ground.

Forath-Ripper nods his head to the pair and then holds the bones out once more, ears lifting as he regards. ~I believe we have one more challenge tonight?~

Jacinta steps forward and takes the bones with solemn nod of her head to the Get. As she turns out to the gathered she spreads her arms out to the side. "As Heals the Rifts said also, I mean no disrespect by remaining in the form of my birth. I, too, am carrying a child." Her eyes seek Alicia across the clearing and she stands with a straight back, fiercely proud. "Guards-the-Flame-rhya, my words are for you. I am Pierces the Ice, Jacinta Aketachunak, Ahroun and Elder of the Wendigo, Alpha of the Guardian Pack, Manitou's Ridgeline under the Honorable Bison. I give challenge to you, Guards-the-Flame, Alicia Henderson, Galliard and Elder of the Children of Gaia, Groundskeeper for the Hidden Walk, follower of Stag in the pack Resonance. I challenge you for the Rank of Fostern."

Nodding her head slowly, Guards-The-Flame steps forward and meets the Wendigo half way, rumbling in her chest, still a bit shaken up by her earlier story. ~I already have terms ready and we will speak of them after the Revel. I have watched you create a strong Guardian pack when we've had none for quite a long time. You have shown dedication and courage and I wish you will with my challenge. It will not be an easy one.~ She says, eyes narrowed a bit. ~Good luck.~

Taking the bones once more, Forath-Ripper raises them up and rumbles in his throat. ~Does anyone have anything /else/ to add before we move on to introductions?~ He asks, ears slanted against his gray furred skull.

Untangler stands as Jacinta walks forward but he doesn't move forward, he just stands there, watching his Alpha with a sense of excitement, but with an easy stance. He looks up at her happily when she begins to return, and then settles back down.

Jacinta accepts Alicia's words with but a shallow bow of her head before she returns to her packmates. The corner of her lips turn up in a small smile, however.

White Bear doesn't look pleased to Jacinta, but he at least looks marinally less angry.

Dagger's-Edge is just a black furred stone on the sidelines with golden eyes, watching the challenges with less and less interest.

Endures-Pain watches this next challenge, a slightly odd expression on her face. Shaking her head a bit, she shifts down to lupus and settles in the midst of her pack.

Sifhuil claims the bones from Brom to announce, ~In concluding Challenges... Rags-Torn-To-Rags was not successful in his rank challenge to Fights-for-Hope, for Fostern.~ Her ears twitch back, eyes narrowing, then she passes the bone fragments back to the Truthcatcher.

Forath-Ripper takes the bones back and nods evenly to the Master of Challenge, then once more darts his eyes about as he holds out the white shards.

Grey takes a pause in translation duties to give Natalie a slight nod as she returns from issuing her challenge, and then again when Jacinta gives hers. Both the Wendigo Elder and her pack receive a few moments' look from the prodigal Glass Walker, and White Bear in particular. He turns away before his stare could be considering challenging, however, and continues speaking quietly to Long Climb Ahead.

Three-Blades looks up sharply as the results of Reggie's challenge are announced. Given the result, though, the ragabash's eyes widen and she looks through the crowd for the Uktena.

Dakota frowns slightly at the announcement of the failed challenge and she too gives the Uktena a brief, curious glance.

Walks-Middle comes out of her dark reverie to frown at this news as well.

Endures's muzzle turns and, like many in the current area, she turns to give a curious look to the Uktena as she settles against the ground.

Guards-Flame frowns and looks a bit angered by the news, huffing out a slow breath.

The Wendigo elder turns a curious glance toward Reggie, but it is replaced quickly with a mask and she looks away, back toward the central events.

Jamethon steps forwards, rising to the full height of his crinosed form as he takes the bones. At first his face looks full of pain and sadness, but after a moment his grip tightens on the bones till they splinter a bit further and his face turns to scowling accusation. ~I remain silent no longer. I will remind the Galliard, Guards-The-Flame, that if she wishes to take on the judging role of a Philodox, there is a ritual to renounce her birthright given by Luna. What work has she done to make sure the words she speaks are true, I ask? For I have not been questioned by any except one, Signe, who until truth was spoken was ready there and then to break my limbs with her bare hands. However, not the one who told this story, nor /anyone/ else came to me. No one else asked for my words. No one bothered to care enough to find justice, only a rousing story. I did not see Thunders-Forge outside of a moot. He was never brought to me, and my duties as Gatekeeper hold me often tightly to the Bawn, Caern, and their Umbra. I was never told of, not did I know of any taint. I did not know of any breaking of the litany. And I have not the luxury, nor need to go check on every troubled Garou who is said to, as I was told, not be able to keep his rage in check. We are creatures of rage, this is old news to all our ears. All I was working towards, was a ritual to help soothe the rage of the Cliath before he got himself in trouble. I had no way of knowing, nor should I have known, how far in trouble he was. It is the tribe's own failing, and the failing of all those who walked among them in the city and saw nothing, that such a travesty was allowed to occur.~ Fights-For-Hope levels a vicious glare about the gathered Sept members, ~Who do I see out there, who else that /should/ have known, who only thought the words... thank Gaia a few more Shadow Lords are dead. You are out there, and for you I am ashamed. We need all our warriors, before you cast blame... before you cast your rage about you, at least think to learn from the rage that consumed a Garou, one of our /OWN/ and turned him into something he before could have never wanted to become. If you think me unfair, Guards-The-Flames, I will accept that challenge and invite any philodox to step forth and claim I speak any falsehoods.~

Long-Climb smacks his clawed crinos fist into his palm once more as Grey translates this latest speech for the cub's benefit.

Rags regards Jacinta after her announcement with pleased surprise. He waits through the announcements of the challenges with an impatience that disappears as soon as the results of his is aired, and his shoulders sag, as he seems to shrink. More than aware of all the glances cast his way, the Ahroun shifts uneasily, but doesn't return any of them.

Holds-the-Line looks to Reggie with, it must be said, a certain amount of sympathy in her eyes. She's too worked up to hold it for long, however, and soon looks back to the Truthcatcher.

Rumbling quietly in a growl, the typically peaceful Child of Gaia is up in hackles as she steps forward in a slow, lumbering pace, eyes gleaming over in rage. She is shaking visibly as her claws slowly uncurl from her fists, staring challengingly over at the Get of Fenrir.

Howls-For-Glory looks on in interest, forgetting his funk, as it looks as if Guards-Flame might bring forward a challenge. Or worse.

Grey raises eyebrows at the Gatekeeper's angry speech, but there's a note of acceptance in his otherwise bland expression as he nods slightly.

Snatching the bones back from Fights for Hope, Forath Ripper lets out a loud, impatient grunt in his throat, then turns to hand them to the Master of the Challenge. ~Here. You tell them to shut the fuck up and move on to introductions.~

Endures looks between the challengers, glancing at her packmates. Well, this could get exciting.

Dakota tightens the set of her jaw as she looks between her Elder and the Gatekeeper, eyes narrowed in thought. She remains silent and lets out a breath of air, indiscriminantly frowning.

Defiant-Storm remains where she's stood for most of the moot--on the outskirts of the gathered. Her attention is keenly focused on the speaker with the bones, however, and on the Gaian elder.

Untangler comes forward towards Reggie at the announcement of his lack of success at reaching Fostern, and the young wolf's posture is sympathetic and sad, quiet, his previous good mood all at once shattered. His tail slinks between his legs as he leaves his pack to go sit beside the man, though he says nothing.

Walks-Middle clenches her teeth as Jamethon speaks, tense and staring at the ground in front of her, although she glances up at Alicia for a moment, to see her response.

Jamethon was done speaking anyway, and pretty much lets go of the bones when they are reached for. He does return the look from the Gaian, and the Fenrir waits for what is to come next, definatly ready to 'make something of it' if it comes to that.

Sifhuil's reaction to Fights-for-Hope announcment is unpleasant, but restrained. A snarl jumps from her jaws, hard eyes turning between the Get, and the answering Guards-the-Flame. ~This matter will be handled -LATER-.~ The bones are passed impatintly back to Brom; she indicates that he should return to introductions.

The Child of Gaia doesn't seem to be backing down in her stare as anger grows, fur bristling upon the back of her neck, looking all the more eager to lunge, shout, or scream.

Dagger's-Edge rises to his paws when Jamethon takes the bones and goes on his rant. The Shadow Lord's hackles visibly tilt up to stand on end, and he breaks his silence with a loud snarl, and starts to come forward only to pause as the bones are passed towards the Master of the Challenge. The halfmoon halts where he is standing stiffly, and as the bones pass back to Brom, the wolf approaches no further in.

~For those who are new to the Sept, please step forward and introduce yourselves.~ Forath-Ripper says with a loud roar, stepping once more to the center of the Caern as he waves the bones high in the air.

Grey gives Long-Climb-Ahead a not so subtle nudge.

Spies-the-Wyrm dips his head slightly in response to Endures, watching the angry exchange get tabled, and then the moot move to the next item.

White Bear watches the back and forth between the Gatekeeper and Groundskeeper, attention rapt on the two of them. He looks a tad let down when the matter is deferred until later; it looks like he'd much rather seen the issue resolved then and there.


A nine-foot tall mass of fury, aggression and annoyance, covered in black fur, with claws that glint nastily. She has several scars across her chest and a face contorted by a sneer of sheer malevolence. Her eyes have a spark of intelligence, but that is almost clouded entirely by the miasma of rage that fills them.

Fights-For-Hope makes sure to give a sweeping glance over the Sept before steeping back down towards his tribe, his pack having pretty much all died or left.

The Elder Child of Gaia's eyes not once waver as she watches the Gatekeeper, needing to call upon her will an resolve to back down soon as he moves. She takes in a deep breath and lumbers through the swarms of Garou, trembling.

Long-Climb jerks into motion and walks forward, moving forward to Forath-Ripper, jaw set in determination. Reaching out for the bones, he takes a broken half in either hand, and looking out over the assembled garou, the cub begins to speak. ~I am Long-Climb-Ahead,~ he says in slightly hesitant but otherwise flawless Mother's Tongue, ~Ragabash homid cub of the... Glass Walkers.~ Was there the slightest of pauses before he named the tribe? Perhaps. He passes the bones straight back to the half-moon, in any event, turns, and walks as steadily as before back to the rest of his tribe.

After Kevin has reached the Glasswalkers, KL pushes her hair back behind her ear from where it has fallen in front of her face, takes a deep breath and stands out of her semi-crouch and walks slowly forward, her face set in an expression of grim determination, her arms firm to her sides, shifting through Glabro and into Crinos as she moves. She stops and surveys the assembled Garou. The sharp of eye would notice a quiver in her right leg, and the reflexive clutching of her left hand, as well as her lip curling back to bare her teeth. ~Honour to you, Sept of the Hidden Walk. I am KL Cole, Escapes-From-Money, Cliath Ahroun of the Black Furies, originally from the Sept of The Eternal Circle in Denver.~ The Fury pauses, blatantly for dramatic effect rather than not knowing what to say, then continues ~I have not yet been set or paid my chiminage to join you, though I hope to soon. In the meantime, my teeth and claws are at the service of any who could use or needs them.~ With that she returns to her crouched position by the Bone-Gnawers, but this time in Crinos, so she hulks above Olga and Joey.

Holds-the-Line reaches and gives Long-Climb's shoulder an approving smack, then turns to listen to the rest of the introductions.

Grey steps forward, then, and shifts upward into Glabro. When he turns to face the assembled Garou, his scarred face is stony, rage seeping through the cracks in his cold expression. Arms folded, the scars of Charach and Dishonor all too visible, he introduces himself in a clear, growling baritone. ~Thomas Grey, Philodox of the Glass Walkers.~ And lawbreaker too, apparantly. ~Homid by birth, Cliath by rank.~ And that, friends and enemies, is all the man has to say for himself, it seems, for he then rejoins his tribemates, reverting to his birth form as he goes.

Howls-For-Glory looks up at hearing KL's introduction, and there's a rather gruesome, toothy smile on his face, for some reason.

Olga wrests her attention away from the brewing attention, towards the cub as he gives his introduction. She manages to conjure up a smile for him, though it's distracted and tight, guilty and strange. Then she goes back to stewing for a second before Escapes-from-Money gives hers. She smiles more genuinely at her as she sits down again beside the Gnawers, appreciation for the girl's tenseness in the grin. "G'job," the woman says softly to her, before her attention is again ripped away by Grey's introduction, whom she watches with a quiet and sullen fascination.

Long-Climb turns to regard Grey as he leaves the spotlight. For all that the cub is still in Crinos and Grey has reverted to birthform, Long-Climb-Ahead seems somehow to be looking up at the other Glass Walker.

Letting out a rumble in his throat, Forath-Ripper steps forward and gives his own. ~I am Rips off the Face of the Forath, Cliath Forsetti for the great Get of Fenrir, once proud leader for the mighty Duatha-Bloth pack in the Sept of White Oaks, a land which runs thick of Fenrir blood. I have already gaven chiminage to the Sept and have been welcomed into your ranks. I thank you for the great honor for allowing me to participate as Truthcatcher tonight.~

Three-Blades sniffs with curiosity as the intro's commence, though when Grey steps up, the ragabash flattens her ears back yet again at the sight of his scars.

Endures gets a look of disgust on her face as Grey walks up, given the clear view of the glyphs on his arm. The others are listened to carefully, the Silver Fang even managing to look snotty in lupus.

Defiant-Storm quite deliberately turns away when Grey takes the fore. The Get's claws clench and release with the tension of the moon, but for the duration of the prodigal Walker's announcement, she keeps her back to the speaker.

As the last of the introductions completes, Holds-the-Line, in her office of Master of the Howl, steps forward and flings her hands to the sky. ~The Moot is completed! Now we Revel!~

Howls-For-Glory tosses back his head, letting out a low, resonating howl as Holds-the-Line ends the moot.

Endures's howl joins with her packmates, her muzzle tossed up to the sky.

Long-Climb joins in with an enthusiastic howl, joyful with just a tinge of relief mixed into its timbre somewhere.

Spies-the-Wyrm lifts his muzzle to Luna, joining in the howl.

Soon as the Moot is called over, Guards-The-Flame lets out a loud snarl in her throat, obviously not having calmed down yet. She shoots her glare across the gathered Garou, claws lancing out as she moves.

Fights-For-Hope is stewing in his juices, his fists clench and he looks forward to the Master of the Challenge filled with anger and questions.

Dakota slowly pulls herself up off the ground as the moot is declared to be at an end, a forced look of calm on her face as she listens to the howls of the sept. For once, she does not add her own voice. Her eyes are on Guards-the-Flame.

Guards-Flame starts making her way towards Fights for Hope, her breath catching as her eyes dart towards the Theurge.

Grey pushes his hands into his trouser pockets and gazes moonwards. Everything about him remains controlled and contained, apparantly aloof to the excitement of the rest of the Sept. He isn't calm, exactly -- too much Rage for that -- but the beast within him is tightly, tightly leashed.

Though still Cliath, Rags adds his howl along the others' as the Revel gets announced, with the prospects of a fight lightening his spirits.

Holds-the-Line shifts back down to lupus and bumps her shoulder into Grey's legs. You and I will return the cub home.

Dagger's-Edge clicks his jaws closed when the howl of revel is announced, not bothering to contribute. As the other Garou work themselves up, the Shadow Lord turns away from the gathering.

Olga's eyes dart about and scan those assembled as the moot draws too a close, a strange look of frustration and dissatisfaction on them. When she sees Guards-the-Flame still with challenge in her posture she gets up but doesn't really know what to do; touching a hand down on both Kathryn-Laura and Joey, near her, to ask them to stay, she moves slowly around to stand with Layne, her Alpha and lead, here, with a sense of anticipation.

Endures pushes up suddenly, padding over toward Dagger's Edge. I wish to speak to you.

Three-Blades gets up and howls with the Revelers, though when the call dies away, the ragabash looks worriedly, tensely, towards her packmates and in particular Guards-Flame.

Fights-For-Hope is staring forward still, but his nostrils flare and ears perk slightly as he is approched. He finally as the Gaian comes near to him, turns with arms crossed over his chest and jaw firmly set, lips closed. ~What?~ He demands from the fellow Fostern, his tribal elder standing just beside him.

Jacinta crosses her arms over her chest, too many places to watch, too much emotion ready to burst through her control. At the announcement of the Revel, she glances around for the Wyrm-Foe, eyes bright at the prospect.

Long-Climb gives one last resonant howl, then, not without evident regret, shifts back down to homid. "And that, I suppose, is that," he murmurs to Grey and Holds-the-Line.

Grey glances down at his tribal Elder and starts to nod, but then glances sharply over to Jamethon and Alicia, his eyes narrowing.

Spies-the-Wyrm bumps his packmates, then shifts down to homid. He walks over to the others in his tribe, and punches kecinv lightly in the arm. "Good job."

Dagger's-Edge appears at first not to have heard or sensed Endures' speaking to him. When he does realize it, the halfmoon levels his eyes upon her shortly, silent as he waits for the Fang elder to say whatever it is she wants to say.

There is a light silver glow dancing about the Child of Gaia's body as she steps up to the Get of Fenris, growling in her throat. ~Since you obviously were not listening to the story, only bits and pieces of it, you happened to have missed the part where I said I gathered this information. Multiple Garou said that you fucked up, now, whether or not that is true, it'd be a whole lot easier to discern if you were fucking easier to find. Bloods Bane and Dagger's Edge both said you spoken to Song of Fury and that you were /going to fix him/ by way of binding a spirit or talen to him. So, in my eyes, and obviously others, you were /aware/ of what was going on. Now, I don't give a fuck what you think, but don't try and fuck up my name for the fact I am doing my job as a -Galliard-. If you want to challenge my story, then say so, otherwise, go fuck yourself.~

The Fang theurge regards the Shadow Lord carefully. If you wish it, I would like to offer my assitance with the Gathering for your packmate.

Kevin is about to return Tu's greeting in similar vein when his attention is drawn by Grey's keen stare in the direction of Jamethon and Alicia. "Uh-oh," he says quietly, as he watches the tense scene unfold.

Holds-the-Line stares up at her Philodox, hackles bristling. What? She bumps his leg again, in irritation this time, then sends a slant-eared look toward Kevin. Only then does she seem to realize what they're watching, and turn to watch Guards-Flame and Fights-for-Hope.

Dagger's-Edge's stare gets darker as he listens to the Fang's request. Immediately, it is suspicion that flickers over the halfmoon's tense frame. Why do you offer?

Because he deserves to be treated with respect and honor, Endures responds. She is sincere in her offer, politely aloof as she speaks with the Lord.

Defiant-Storm shows her teeth as the Gaian and Fights For Hope get in each other's face. For now, however, the Get elder simply stands by her tribemate.

Fights-For-Hope outwardly, retains his calm... there is benefit to being a theurge perhaps, even if his fists are clenched so tightly that his fingers appear ready to snap off at the knuckles. ~Your story wasn't a story, Galliard. It was an accusation. A story tells people what happened, not what you heard happened. You are charged in your role to back up your facts and make damn sure that the honor you are dragging through the dirt with your very powerful words, is worthy of being harmed. I am the Gatekeeper. I spend my time in the shadow and I am not the one to be troubled to find you if you have a problem. If you need to find me and cannot, then you will speak to the Warder, I answer directly to him. Remember that, you seemed to not know how these things work. Also, I will not let you hide behind your role as Galliard to defend yourself. You are person, a damn fine Garou as I remembered once. The next time you slander someone without cause in the name of telling a 'story', then I will personally call down the hunt upon you. The spirits listen to these things in ways you couldn't understand, and I will have to work to get them to trust me again.~

Grey abruptly drops into a crouch, laying a hand on Holds-the-Line's shoulders. He mutters something quietly, only for the ears of the nearby wolf.

Dagger's-Edge narrows his eyes briefly, like he's staring through the Silver Fang to get at her inner thoughts. A short snort later, the Shadow Lord rumbles as his reply, I will ask Severs about it.

Severs knows me, Endures says confidently. You do that. Then she turns and, like many others, watches the spectacle.

Howls-For-Glory watches the pair square off, resting on his haunches. The tension of the situation seems to be wearing off on him, because he shifts restlessly from foot to foot.

Tu splits his attention between his packmate and the lord, and the argument between the Gaian and the Gatekeeper. The argument gets most of it.

Dakota still remains standing, her forced look of calm slowly melting into one of noticable tension as she continues to watch the pair of arguing Garou. She says nothing as she listens, as much as she would seem to want to.

Three-Blades can only do so much to hold herself still as she watches the argument between the fostern ensue.

~Don't tell me how things work, Fights for Hope. I lost my voice for two months for -not- coming out about a litany violation and explaining down to the very damn detail of what happened. Song of Fury, your own pack mate said that you were aware. So did Dagger's Edg eand Blood Bane. I spoke to them /seperately/. All of their stories matched up. So, if you want to call -them- liars.~ She points over in the Shadow Lord's direction. ~Then bring up your anger with him. I'm not hiding behind anything.~ She snorts and starts off, snarling under her breath as she aims for her pack, shaking her head. ~So sick of this shit, everyone has a fucking excuse.~

Untangler stands up and rubs his muzzle against Reggie's leg, trying to convey his sympathy and appreciation for the other in a single quick gesture, and then he trots off to rejoin his pack for a second. He greets them quietly but with good cheer, like he isn't aware of anything else that's going on, and then he softly trots up out of the Caern, up through the windy spot.

Holds-the-Line's ears flicker backwards at the Philodox's words. Then she turns and snaps her jaws at him, deliberately clear of chewy parts like ears or nose. I will remember that. Now that the Moot is over, a large amount of the tension has drained from her, though she's still on edge. Now we should take the cub back home.

Fights-For-Hope growls out, hand shooting from where they rest on his chest. ~You do not turn your back on a dispute, Avoids-The-Flame! There are no excuses other than you own. The face remains, I am the one accused in that story. The fact remains that the Warder is who we /all/ answer to and you did not bother to /try/ and seek him out in this. Do not think you walk away with clean hands.~

Endures nips almost playfully at Howls-For-Glory's shoulder, her ears flicking back. There seems to be a real problem with listening in this Sept. That's all the Fang says before she returns to watching the exchange with an impassive expression.

Dagger's-Edge was watching Endures return to her pack before the pointing fingers point towards him. The Shadow Lord freezes with paw held midstep, gaze turning now towards the Gate and Groundskeeper.

Turning around, Guards-The-Flame snarls back. ~Do not throw insults and cubbish insults, Fights For Hope. It is your ass on the line, not mine. I tell the stories as the way the Galliard's should. Its not my fault you got caught looking like a fucking moron! Take it up with the Alpha or the Master. They knew of every detail of my story before I brought it to moot and I told them exactly where I got my information from. If you are innocent, then they will prove you so, otherwise, go on your revel. I'm not going to argue with you. If you want to fight, bring it over here and I will show you exactly why my voice rings true.~

Grey jerks his head away from Holds-the-Line's snap, exposing his nice undefended throat. Fairly obvious who's the Big Dog between them. Then he nods and straightens up. "Lead the way," he tells the Galliard flatly, and gestures to the cub to follow them out.

Howls-For-Glory looks back to Endures-Pain and he makes a noncommital sound. I wish they'd either go for each other's throats or relax. They're giving my head an ache.

His leg nudged, Rags starts moving, looking undecided momentarily about which way to go, and he nods absently after Untangler. With a curious eye on the argument, Rags moves through the other gawkers until he reaches Dakota's side, speaking a few quiet words, then falls silent, not waiting to miss any interesting insults.

Holds-the-Line pulls away from Grey and heads back toward the steam vents, her tail held high. Follow.

Kevin cranes his neck around as he follows Grey and Natalie, plainly hoping to catch as much as he can of whatever outcome the stand-off between the two angry garou will produce.

First translator, now sheep dog. Grey makes certain the cub follows Natalie out of the caern, fight or no fight.

Fights-For-Hope curls up his lips at the last statement, seeming ready to do so as his claws uncurl and bunch up once more into fists, hackles fighting to lower back down. ~Is it really the Get of Fenris,~ he snarls, ~that must remind the Child of Gaia what a weakness sucumbing to our rage is. You want to fight me, or the enemy? I will not be your, or anyone's puppet storyteller... my strings are cut. I will prove my honor and once this has been done, you will appologize to me here in this very spot, where the Spirits have ears to hear it.~

Guards-Flame snarls back at the Get. ~Like I said, for the third time tonight. Take it up with those I got my information from and take it up with the Alpha. I am not going to withdraw my words over your hurt pride.~ She says with a lifted curl of her lip.

Three-Blades hasn't moved from her spot since this whole verbal slinging began. Her gaze bounces back and forth like a tennis ball at the Australia Open.

Dakota lets out a breath as the two Fosterns exchange verbal blows but her attention is caught as Rags approaches her. She tilts her head in to listen better and nods her head to him before she, too, looks back to the fight.

KL, who by now has dropped back to homid form, has been watching events unfold with some interest, remaining motionless in her crouched position. She's now looking daggers at Fights-For-Hope, the obvious loser in the "pick which side the Black Fury is going to support" competition.

Fights-For-Hope seems ready to laugh, a snort barely escaping him. ~You couldn't harm my pride with a million of your words. I do not care about what you think... I only care about this Caern, about what matters. I'm done, you love to speak but you never wish to listen. Farewell, while I would love to attend the revel, I must see to my duty. I will return when it is time for me to accept that apology.~ He melts down, slowly to the lupine form and waits, remaining where he is for some time in case she wishes to speak again or leave.

Endures shifts to homid abruptly and murmurs something into Cole's ear, brushing her hair from her face.

~You are going to accept a foot up your ass. If you didn't care what I think, you wouldn't be whining like a cub about my story. Suck it up big guy.~ Guards-The-Flame says with a snarl as she starts off among the crowd of Garou, holding her head up high.

Tu watches the argument for some time, then stretches before making his way out of the Caern.

Howls-For-Glory looks to his packmate and chuffs agreeably, though the sound isn't a cheerful one.

Fights-For-Hope tilts his head slightly, ears perking sending the message that he isn't sure what he just heard. I wonder whose pride was really hurt tonight... he wonders, looking about at those remaining at the Caern before slowly stepping off towards the waterfall to head over to the Caern's umbral reflection.

R's Comments: 5 am! I stayed up to 5am, and I posed three times! I'm so proud.

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