Place : Undeveloped Forest.
Date : 12th May 2005
This tough group of thinning trees has never known the forester's axe, or indeed any blade of man. Lack of easy access routes and the rocky nature of the ground have conspired to make it of little value in human eyes. Those of a more natural bent, however, can appreciate the quiet glades, small brooks, and the healthy flora and fauna that live here.
Eastward, the land grows more rocky and rises upward into the northern range of the Blue Mountains. The area is bordered on the north by the railroad, on the south by the border of Wolf Woods National Park, and on the west by State Route 22, winding its way south towards the park entrance.
The Galliard arrives in the area, visibly tense and restless. Cole shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he immediately finds a spot to settle down. "Here in time for the fun," he mutters.
Erika and Dillen come walking in together, after getting word from the farmhouse that the raid is taking place south of Bawn. Erika is dressed for the occasion with Todestanzer, a Fenrir engraved labyrs swong over her gangly shoulders and looking a like an uncanny warrior as she swaggers in with her tribemate.
From the North-West comes KL, the Fury striding purposefully through the forest, a look of tension and determination on her face. She's carrying a long black-leather-coated case, and for once her hair is tied back in a plait, rather than hanging loose around her shoulders.
Auggie arrives not long after Cole, hands tucked into his pockets, his dark brown eyes sparkling with antipication for the battle to come. He gives the others gathered a nod, and then takes a place next to his packmate, giving the Fianna Galliard a feral grin.
Dillen hefts a maybe familiar razor wire wrapped 4x4 off his shoulder. "Ready for this shit." He's grinning ear to ear, eyes alight with energy. "Where the hell is Brom and Kenneth?" He looks about, almost dancing from foot to foot.
Erika looks over to the Fianna Galliard, eyebrow arched. "Ready to weave some tales after tonight, storyteller?" she asks. The half-moon pulls at her leather cuffs around her wrists, tightening them once again. There is a smug look on the Fenrir's lips.
Cole returns his packmate's grin. "Been too long since we really got a chance to do something like this." At Erika's question, he smirks. "Make sure to give me something to work with," he responds. Dillen's choice of weapon gets a raised brow. "Crap, man. That's just vicious."
After a few minutes a 20-something Native American man walks up to the group. His scarred arms swing at his sides as he make his way casually towards the group, carrying no weapons or objects of any kind.
Erika laughs at the response from the Galliard about her tribemate's weapon, although remains quiet and allows him to reply.
Making his way into the area is Brom, glancing about those gathered, letting out a slight breath, eyes narrowing. "Thomas the Walker isn't here?" He asks as he crosses his thick arms over his chest, joints creaking some.
Dillen gives a grin to Erika. "Oh HELL yeah." His hand thumps his weapon into the ground and then he reaches up, tightening the collar around his neck. He looks to Cole. "Belonged to one of my elders. Owen, Wildfire. It will shed blood once again." He says with a triumphant lift of the weapon.
From behind Brom skulks the Shadow Lord, Kenneth, wearing a scowl upon his face, yet silently appearing eager to wet his claws. He squints at the other Garou, then glances away just as sharp.
KL remains silent, but opens the case and pulls out a bow and a bow-string. She loops the string over one end, then turns the bow upside down, places the end alongside her foot and then bends her leg, so that the bow runs the other side of her knee. With an expression of concentrated effort, she bends the bow and loops the other end of the string over it. Then, from the case she pulls out a small quiver of arrows, which she straps over her back.
Auggie is weaponless, and seems entirely unconcerned about it. The axe and the razor-wire-covered board get glances, and little else. His gaze shifts to KL, and then to the Native American man. "We don't all know each other," he declares simply. "For those who don't know me - I'm Auggie Flood-of-Flame. Cliath Ahroun of Unicorn's brood, Alpha of Birdseye under Magpie and Arm of the Goddess for my tribe." The Fury's bow gets a more appreciative look, before he gazes up to the young woman, and then back again to Touch Deer, expectantly.
Erika growls as she looks at the amount of Garou showing up. "Is this all?" she growls. Then she says, "Erika Judges-The-Lost-Souls, Cliath Fenrir Forsetti." is all she introduces herself as.
Touch Deer folds his hands behind his back as he's indicated for an introduction. "Cries-No-More, also Touch Deer, once called Survives-the-Scab. Fostern Ahroun of Wendigo, once child of Uktena with Ouroboros. Brom's invited me to come and aid you tonight." He bows shallowly and then looks about at the rest of you.
Cole smirks. "Who needs more? We're Garou, and these are cattle! Wyrm-tainted or not, we can handle it." The Galliard exudes less confidence than his words make it seem like he should. "Cole Howls-For-Glory, Cliath Fianna Galliard, Beta of Magpie's Birdseye."
Dillen looks to Brom and Kenneth, hefting the weapon of the night onto his shoulder. "For those that don't know, but I think you all do. Dillen Francis, Bloods-Bane, Skald of the Get of Fenris. Member of Requiem." As he joins Brom and Kenneth, looking around at those assembled. "And we are gonna fuck this shit up tonight."
"KL Cole, Escapes-From-Money. Cliath Ahroun of the Black Furies, newest member of HAVOC under Wolverine." The Fury says, with a nod to Auggie. She's unable to stop a grin from breaking out as she says the last bit of that sentence, but it quickly fades back into a tense grimace.
"I am Brom Gustafsson, The Forath Slayer, Forsetti for the Get of Fenrir, Alpha of the pack Requiem." The tall viking rumbles in his throat as he glances about those gathered once more, looking a tad disappointed. "For the record, /none/ of us are getting killed by fucking cows tonight. I'd like for us to be split up into a pair of packs. Two strikers." He pauses, glancing over to Auggie and Cole. "Touch Deer here is a war hero of the Sept for many years. Would you allow him the honor to fight with Birds Eye tonight? I feel that his experience will help you in battle. I'd like Emma to side with you as well. We'll take the Fury and Erika." He says, motioning to himself, Dillen and Kenneth. "That way the packs are evened out. I want to try and come at from two sides, unless anyone thinks otherwise. Everyone know what we are up against, right? They may be farm animals, but they are fomorized to the point they /can/ kill you."
Emma grins at Cole. "Hey Cole, I got no hair to spare this go around, so keep that in mind tonight eh?" She steps towards those of Birdseye then, nodding her to each in turn in a signal of her willingness to let them lead. "Put something wyrmy in front of me and I'll keep myself busy."
Touch Deer begins to walk towards Auggie and Cole, quietly nodding with a smile towards the two younger Garou.
Erika grins and lightly gives Dillen a slap on the back. "Looks like I am teaming with you," she grins as Brom splits everyone up into groups. Her eyes narrow, showing the ice-blues like gemstones as she glaces at everyone in quick observation. "I'm ready to KICKASS for Gaia!" she growls.
Auggie gives KL and Touch Deer respectful nods at their introductions, then waits through those he knows. Drawing himself up at Brom's instructions, he grunts an affirmative. "Sure thing. Me, Cole, Touch Deer and Emma." He nods again to the Wendigo as he approaches.
Touch Deer extends a hand for shaking to all three of the Garou he has been grouped with. "All good medicine tonight."
KL hisses unhappily, but nods to Brom and takes a step towards him. She suddenly swivels, and walks back to Emma and whispers something to her, then returns to Brom. "OK." she says, simply.
Auggie takes TD's extended hand in a brief, but firm, shake. He seems a bit startled by something at first, but it's quickly masked. "Let's not all get swelled heads here. They are cows, but their bite is poison. -Nobody- let themselves be bitten, or they'll be outta action," he growls, dark eyes narrowing as they flick to each Garou present.
Emma moves quickly over to KL, giving the Fury a nudge. "Hey. I want to get pizza after this tonight, got it?" She gives a slight nod to the other before lifting her hand to place a firm squeeze on the others shoulder.
"Fuck.. where is Jacinta and Thomas at." Brom rumbles in his throat as he glances about the area, then shifts his shoulders. "Alright, looks like the key people I wanted to be here either got caught up or flaked, or whatever. No rite of Silence tonight, so, I'd still advise to be as quiet as possible." He says, taking in a deep breath, then says. "Tonight, brothers and sisters of Hidden Walk, all of us stand together as warriors and champions for the mother Gaia. Our claws will shed the blood of the Wyrm tonight and cleanse the land afterwards with death and fire. No matter what we face, we all remember that it needs to be dealt with the same way as we do the Spiral Dancers or the Skripi. We give them our worst. The -very- worst. We send them screaming back to the hell they crawled out from and we give a message back to the Wyrm, that this is /our/ night!" He says, his voice the epitome of the Fenrir confidence that has driven many to victory. "Tonight we ride the rage which burns in our veins to victory! For Gaia!"
Erika looks over to Emma. "G'luck, Em." the half-moon says with a smile. Then she turns towards Dillen and the rest of the pack.
Roughly twenty feet from the group of gathered Garou, a large black bird settles into the branches of a tree. The corvid folds its wings and settles into place, attention focused on the gathering.
Dillen lifts his weapon into the air and gives a shout. He looks to Emma and grins. "See you when it's over. Pizza will be on me." He grins at her, "Hell I be buying for everyone." His eyes look up and catch the bird, he gives her a nod of his head. "Hey Val."
Erika growls out, "I will fight like my elder, Owen-rhya! For whom I honor tonight." The Forsetti gives a light toss of her head to move the tresses from her face. "My ememies will all feel the cold steel of my axe, tonight. Make no mistake." Then she perks. "Did ye'say pizza?"
Cole chuckles. "I'll remember you said that, Dill'." He cocks his head, looking at the newly arrived raven. "Evenin'," he mumbles.
Erika nudges Dillen lightly, "Better make sure you have a pizza just for me, bro." she grins, shwoing her white teeth. "I'm going to have an appietite after this."
Auggie seems acutely focused on the battle ahead, even the talk of pizza doesn't distract him. He looks over to the Corax and nods. "Hey there, bird."
Touch Deer shakes the hands of the pack he's been positioned with (plus Emma). After that, he quietly waits to move, making no comments or cries as the rest of the group settle in for the battle. All he seems to be doing is waiting.
Brom takes in a deep breath and shudders upon release, then starts off in the direction, glancing over to his packmates, then narrows his eyes. Kenneth follows along, still having yet to say anything, but only slightly roll his eyes at Brom's war speech.
Erika growls in her throat as she turns to the raid before her. "A'right, lets go kill some shit!" she says, then trots after Brom and the rest of the pack, plus the Fury.
KL follows Brom, attempting not to poke anyone with the end of her bow.
Cole drops into his lupus form, the Fianna chuffing once as he moves to follow along. Cheesey bread when we win, he observes. And Glory besides!
Touch Deer drops down to lupus along with the rest of his group. In this form, everyone easilly notices the Ahroun is covered almost completely in disgusting burn-scars. Despire his rank he trotts a few feet behind the rest of Birdseye and Emma.
Emma falls in beside Birdseye and Touch Deer. Now that the hunt begins, she grows more serious, letting her rage boil closer to the surface in blood lusting anticipation. She also drops to lupus, her coat still short and looking like some show dog out of the breeders, probably similar to Cole's appearance.
Shifting into the Lupus form himself, Forath-Ripper strides in the lead, ears and tail high as he sniffs at the wind, eyes narrowed and concentrated as he weaves through the thick brambles and trees.
The group comes soon upon the thicker edge of the forest south of the Farm, an oddity in that it actually gets thinner the deeper you go. While it is thin enough to not have to worry about mobility, to walk as a group people must circumnavigate the trees before them.
Finds-Stories has no trouble following the group from a distance and stays above the trees for the most part.
Erika follows the others as she shifts down into lupus, the half-moon bearing a large chest scar which can be noticed in this form. Her tail hangs behind her, and she also remains behind the pack, for now serving position in the rear. She occasionally looks behins her and sniffs the air. Once in awhile her eyes look up into the trees, noticing the raven gliding above them.
KL remains in Homid for the moment, and has to switch between jogging and walking to keep up. Her eyes are brighter than before, the tension slowly mutating into a keen alertness.
Howls-For-Glory sniffs at the air, easily wending his way around the trees. His banter falls away as the distance between the group and the farmhouse grows larger. Wary even before they arrive, the Galliard runs just a head's length behind his alpha.
Dillen shifts as well, but into crinos, the 4x4 being picked up into his paw as he moves. His eyes scan about, making sure to take in the surroundings. He also keeos an ear out for any whisperings with the animals.
At some point along the way, Cries-No-More, the quiet Wendigo, pauses to scrape his foreclaws on a rock. Sparks issue from the friction, and the Ahroun joins the rest of the group once his gift of Razor Claws is finished.
Flood-of-Flame keeps low and takes care to step quietly. Noticing the Wendigo sharpening his claws, he shifts to Hispo and does the same.
As the structures of the farm house and its surrounding buidings come into view, Touch Deer's form takes on the color and textures of his immediate surroundings, making him hard to see.
Working his claws into a large rock, Forath-Ripper sharpens his tools as he narrows his eyes fiercly, then shifts upwards into the Hispo form.
Bloods-Bane joins Forath in raking his claws over a rock. A short huff of breath is his signal to his Alpha that he is ready.
Howls-For-Glory hunkers low, even as he shifts into Hispo. He looks between his alpha and his two new packmates, having to peer at Touch Deer. Good hunting. Make Gaia proud. He turns back to the approaching farmhouse.
Much like the others, Stone-Spirit pauses to sharpen her claws, the distinct 'shinct shinct' heard as she rakes them over the rock before loping quickly to catch up.
KL watches others strike their claws, looks at the bow, looks at her hands, looks at the bow again, and mutters a low "fucking only ranged weapon", before trekking along after Forath-Ripper, somewhat forlornly.
And come into view the Farm does. It is lucky for these vermin, and indeed the warriors that come to meet them, that the Farm is pretty much surrounded to prevent peeping toms from getting a view of the fight to come. At first the distant buildings are just viewable as a glimpse here and there as they walk. Soon, the view resolves a bit better. It is difficult to tell, but it doesn't look pretty. There is a large bull, too large to be 'right' silently eating out of the cracked skull of a fellow cow. The horns on this bull are wicked to say the least, they first curve back, before turning down and forward to spears, the whole length of them dripping a thick and vile green. The very muscles on this beast scream to break from the flesh, and while other various tainted animals of fearsome manner wander the farm, none come anywhere near the Kill Bull while he feeds.
'No fucking way,' Judges lips as she shifts silently into crinos, preparing as she rolls her shoulders back and gives a little shake of her wrists. The young wolf looks around her, seeing how short of warriors are here this evening. She rolls her eyes and turns her head back towards the grazing bull, no doubt the biggest bovine she has ever seen in her life.
Cries-No-More shifts into Hispo once the faint sounds and sights of the Enemy become apparent.
A low and deep growl comes from Bloods-Bane. His eyes make a quick scan of all that he sees. His ears perk, trying to hear anything with his gift that may lend some help.
From what you can see out roaming the farm you spot the bull, four dogs, a couple of house cats, and a handful of rats. All oversized, wyrmy, and dripping with the goo from their mouths, save for the bull whose horns have the Wyrm treatment.
~That is the biggest fucking cow in the -world-. Remember what I said, don't let a cow kill you. You do not want that on your grave.~ Rumbles the Forath-Ripper quietly to the others as he shifts himself down, staring at the red bull with his narrowed yellow eyes. Tilting his head over to the Child of Gaia, he rumbles. ~You want this one or do you want Fenrir's claws to take this out?~
Finds-Stories stays well back, keeping to the trees.
The Shadow Lord, in Hispo now, stares quietly at the large cow, then shuffles back a step and to the left, baring his fangs dangerously. Glancing to the others, then back, he looks unruffled by the prescence of the large bovine.
Stone-Spirit snarls silently as she sets near the alpha of Birdseye, I will follow your lead. Her ears flicker this way and that as she scans the view.
Flood-of-Flame's lupine lips pull back into a grimace at the sight. Swinging his head towards Forath-Ripper, he replies quietly, ~There are many and we are few. We may have to change our strategy. The Fury's bow may be useful. She could shoot some of the smaller animals and cause a distraction.~ He pauses for a moment, thinking. ~If the smaller animals can be drawn off the bull, one group would have a clear path of attack toward it.~ His tail swishes restlessly, awaiting the responses of the other Garou.
KL crouches, half behind a tree, staring at the bull. She reaches back and pulls an arrow from her quiver, then rolls it in her fingers so that the cock feather is pointing in the right direction, and nocks the arrow. She looks over to Forath-Ripper and waits.
Cries-No-More offers his opinion. That is a good strategy to attempt. One pack could maneuver away from the Fury and her Bow, and strike the Bull as a diversion is created. The one who carries a boom-stick could help with the distraction.
Howls-For-Glory tenses at the sight of the Wyrmish bull and his fellow creatures, his hackles rising. ~If a path is opened, we'll be ready,~ he asserts.
The King Bull apparently finishes his meal, as he opens his mouth and bites off pieces of bone surrounding the wound through which he was feasting on brain, chewing it only a second or two before swallowing each bite.
Forath-Ripper looks annoyed. ~The Walker was supposed to be here to shoot that fucker from here with his 'boom stick'. If we leave the Fury unguarded, she may not be able to strike the foes down as quick as we want. She will need to kill each one with a /single/ arrow, or else they will be on her like stink on shit.~ He flicks his ears forward some, then tilts his head over to Flood-Of-Flame. Taking in a deep breath, he looks to the Shadow Lord, then to the others. ~Touch Deer, Blood Bane, Stone Spirit, Flood of Flames, Howl of Glory and myself will take the bull. Dagger, Judges-Souls and Shadow Dancer will protect the Fury and create our diversion. We will take our opening and strike, hard and quick. Soon as the bull is down, we regroup. No stragglers. Everyone clear?~
The barn itself, though door resting wide open, is not visible inside for the darkness. Still, an ominous air lurks within the two story building.
Bloods-Bane nods his head in agreement to Brom. ~Lead on.~ As his hand tightens around the 4X4. His eyes bore into the bull, a hatred already within. One that wants blood.
Judges-Souls grunts softly while her cold eyes look towards the barn-door, peering at it with extreme curiousity before she creeps quietly towards the Fury and waits until they are all ready.
Flood-of-Flame cants his head to one side as Requiem's Alpha speaks. ~Let us regroup to the south of the forest, if something goes wrong. I believe the group with the archer should go west through the trees, so Escapes can shoot without the bull taking notice.~ He turns to regard the Fury. ~Gaia be with you, and your aim, tonight.~
Stone-Spirit snarls softly, listening to the instructions given with eagerness in her gaze. Her paws knead anxiously at the earth, her toes pressing each sharpened talon into the ground below.
Forath-Ripper nods his head in agreement to Flood of Flame and glances sharply to the other four, motioning with his head. ~To the West then. Protect her well, warriors.~ He rumbles, then prepares himself as he quietly growls in the back of his throat.
A dark figure, darker than the surrounding shadows, winds it's way swiftly around trees and through bushes at a brisk trot. Observers might notice something odd about the wolf--in that there isn't even the faint noise of paws on grass and leaves. No noise at all, in fact, is made by the wolf's passage.
The newcomer is carrying something in it's muzzle--a bag, it looks like.
KL nods. "About two hundred yards?" she says in a low whisper. "Gaia be with you, too." She hefts the bow and takes a couple of steps, looking for the others to follow her.
Judges-Souls follows KL, the fur at the back fo the Fenrir's neck rising stiffly as she gets put as backup. ~This is what a warrior like me does...~ she growls lowly in annoyance under her breath as she follows the Fury around, posised and ready to take out any creature that comes too close for comfort to the archer.
Cries-No-More follows the group he has been assigned to, moving west.
Howls-For-Glory starts to move, and then his features twist up briefly. ~Shouldn't there be flyers here? Wyrm-tainted. Finds-Stories saw them before.~ He glances around, as if expecting to see them in the tree branches above them.
Forath-Ripper takes a step forward, then pauses, nodding his head sharply as he lets out a low grunt of frustration. ~The Strider was supposed to be here to lead them away. I forgot about them.~ He flattens his ears back against his skull, then lifts his eyes up to the trees, searching.
Flood-of-Flame sucks in a breath through his fangs. He looks up to the sky, then all around, searching for airborne enemies.
Cries-No-More lifts his gigantic muzzle upwards, searching.
Bloods-Bane keeps his eyes on the Bull, others are looking to the sky.
Dances Shadows slips in amidst the other Garou, making no secret of her presence, at this point. The bag in her muzzle is dark, and looks as though it's carrying something that is heavy enough to weight the bag down. She tips her ears forward, then lowers her head, indicating her apology at being late.
Judges-Souls looks to Dances Shadows as she arrives. ~This is the last time that I see this few of warriors, much less those who desert us for more imporant matters, and I get stuffed in the rear... in buttfuck Egypt.~ she growls softly. Then she looks towards the wolf's bag, although doesn't question it as her eyes turn back to attentively watching around her.
Cries-No-More suddenly hugs the ground and stops moving. There are winged creatures somewhere ahead in the direction of the farm. His huge Hispo head swivels to look at Brom, awaiting instruction.
The Shadow Lord snorts to Judges-Souls as he winds through the grass, looking annoyed by her speech. ~Shut up and pay attention.~ He says, eyes glancing to the Fury, then to the Glass Walker as he skulks on along in the small group.
Forath-Ripper rumbles quietly in his throat as he eyes the Wendigo, then looks over to the retreating group. ~Hey, Walker.. you were bringing metal tonight, right?~
Flood-of-Flame snaps the air in front of Judges' muzzle. ~Stop whining like a mooncalf pup. Your duty is as important as any other. Or perhaps you think your Glory is more important than working together to protect the Mother?~ His irritation grows at Cries-No-More's pronouncement. His hackles rise as he looks from the Wendigo to the newly-arrived Walker.
Bloods-Bane stays where he is, eyes intent on that bull. A very slight glance goes to the others, especially as Brom speaks to the Walker. His gaze goes immediately back to the bull. Waiting for the charge.
Dances Shadows lifts her head just slightly as Forath-Ripper addresses her, swinging the bag in her mouth just slightly and indicating an affirmative with a small twitch of her tail.
Howls-For-Glory stalks forward, to stand beside Bloods-Bane. He keeps his eyes on the night sky, though, trying to pick out darker shapes against the star and bright moonlight.
Forath-Ripper glances to the group, then rumbles softly. ~You can turn invisible, maybe? Shoot the birds down? You can make your metal quiet?~ He asks. ~Silencer?~
Judges-Souls is about to respond that she is, although she decides not to bother. Her dark ears twitching to any sound that she hears, other than those conversing. Then as Flood-of-Flame snaps at her muzzle, Judges narrows her eyes for a moment before she shakes out her fur.
A couple of hundred yards west of the initial point, KL sets up again, partially concealed by a tree, she scans the area for likely targets. Preferably large, slow moving ones. She pulls a couple of arrows from the quiver, and leans them against the tree, then looks to her companions to see if they are ready.
Stone-Spirit breathes heavily, nostrils flaring as the plan and tactics are set into slow motion. The wait is wearing heavy on the young Ahroun, tail twitching and paws shifting.
Dances Shadows's ears flick forward twice, and she runs a paw slowly across the ground. Another yes. She hunches down, gets a better grip on her bag, and then slips forward. Once she leaves the knot of Garou, her dark furred form begins to blur.
Forath-Ripper lets out a soft huff, then nods his head to the Ragabash, then glances over to Flood of Flames. ~You seem to have some good ideas tonight. What do you think? Send Judges Souls and Dagger's Edge with the Fury, let Shadow Dancer take the flyers, and we rush the bull?~
Stone-Spirit lets out a snort, We cannot stall. They will soon have our scent as the winds shift. Decide quickly. Her own tail swings again, now more agitated.
Flood-of-Flame also shakes his ruff, twitching with battlelust and irritation at the complications of their plan. ~ After the first few birds are downed, the rest will notice and attack. Flyers are not stupid - they won't sit to let themselves be picked off. I believe the birds should be watched.~ A pause. His brown eyes flash, wheels visibly turning in his head behind him, ears flattened in concentration. ~Let's stick with our original plan, but with the Walker as a lookout. Invisible. If the birds are rousted, she can fire a warning shot and we'll know to retreat. Then she may shoot many on the run.~
The dark-furred Fenrir flexes her paws, the nails glimmering with light. ~I'll go with the Fury,~ she volunteers, proving to all that she isn't some mooncalf pup. Before anyone can decide otherwise, she trots after KL.
Forath-Ripper nods his head to the Child of Gaia, then glances over to the others. ~Thats our plan. Lets get this over with as quick as possible. Remember, /no/ dying tonight.~ He says, then starts off, eyes narrowed fiercly.
Cries-No-More trots quickly forward, taking a position behind and to the left of Brom as he ventures out of cover.
Dances Shadows's passage across the open ground is careful and weaving. She keeps herself low, almost approaching a belly crawl, with her head held only high enough to keep the bag from dragging on the ground.
Flood-of-Flame flags his tail and waves it in the air, signaling to the Fury and her group that the assault has begun. He strides cautiously out of the cover, trying to discern the best path for assaulting the Bull, leaving the smaller animals to the archer.
Howls-For-Glory looks pleased by Flood's idea, and practically chomps at the bit to press the attack. He manages to keep himself still until his alpha passes by, and then he starts forward apace.
The animals seem to be aggitated, long after their cries have died down they still look to be riled up. Yet, they do not seem to recognize the presense of the approaching Garou.
The Fury gauges the distance to her selected target, checks foliage and grass for signs of wind, lifts the bow with her arm locked, string hand forming the Mediterranean grip around the arrow - one finger above, two below. Her outstretched thumb touches the corner of her mouth, there's half a second's pause, and then a loud twang as she looses the arrow.
Bloods-Bane follows the lead, ready to jump in, chomping at the bit as the case may be. His muscles tense and rage just below the surface.
Dances Shadows reaches a spot she judges to be as good as any; she lowers the bag softly to the ground, then flattens herself completely against the ground. A moment later, the Ragabash shifts up to glabro.
Stone-Spirit is tense and taut, eyes flaring from left to right as she watches and waits. Everything about the young Ahroun screams eagerness.
Dagger's Edge settles his Hispo form in front of the Fury, staring out with his cold, haunting gold eyes and rumbling loudly in his throat, tail twitching now and then.
In concert with the twang is a mighty cawing, as if some great many headed bird beast awakened from an ancient slumber. From the upper floor of the Barn comes a cloud of what, somewhere between ten and twenty large black birds screaming murder. At first they fly up and circle about, as if seeking a target to murder. The bull snorts in answer to one of the dog's recieving an arrow low in the throat, yelping painfully and though not down and out, pawing crazed at the wound. The other three dogs perk up at their wounded 'friend' and snear angrily into the woods. The bull starts over towards the wounded dog, and with almost a casual indifference, bites off half it's muzzle with a single chomp of huge razor teeth, killing it instantly. The other three dogs start barking and running out towards the source of the arrow, one apparently picking up on a scent. Meanwhile, the cats look almost smug in the proceedings, not yet bothered to act. The rats however now seen to be numbering four, already twitchy, start to run towards the approaching Fenrir leading the assualt, oversides teeth dripping green.
Jeren remains flattened on her stomach as all hell breaks loose among the animals. She slides a black handgun from her bag, gives everything a very brief glancing over, and then sets her left hand in front of her, using it like a stand as she traces the movements of the birds. She doesn't fire, not yet. She's estimating their range, and speed.
Twisting himself about, Forath-Ripper rumbles, telling the assault party to pause, to stay into the trees. His eyes watch as the rats approach. Let them come to us. He growls. Start with the small targets, keep to the trees.
Cries-No-More stops and comes to rest next to a large white pine trunk, his form inexplicably shifting to the color of the old tree.
As quickly as she can, KL nocks another arrow. The actual loosing takes slightly longer, a practiced, unhurriedly graceful movement. Another arrow is sped on its way, aimed for the throat of one of the oncoming dog-beasts.
Bloods-Bane tenses, ready to fight, standing by Forath and watching what comes, 4x4 at the ready to strike.
Howls-For-Glory pauses in his advance, boiling to crinos in the shelter of the trees. ~Crush them, as quickly as they arrive!~ Claws spread wide, the Fianna awaits the creature's advance.
Flood-of-Flame falls back into the trees, grabbing a small sapling as he goes. He breaks the tree off into a 12-foot length, then shaves as many of the tiny, flexible branches off as he can in a few seconds. His razor-honed claws aide him considerably. He points the broken-off point in front of him, using the sapling as a makeshift pike. ~Forgive me for killing you. Your life will be spent in service of the Mother.~ He seems to be addressing the sapling.
Stone-Spirit snarls viciously as she takes a half step back and rises into Crinos herself. Her claws stand at the ready and her posture is balanced and posed to move in any direction for her initial charge.
Judges-Souls's mucles remain tense as she watches KL take another shot at the oncoming dogs, the dark-furred crinos remaining tight until the dogs range closer. ~Wait for it,~ she growls softly to the others.
Ripping into the Crinos form, Forath-Ripper steadies himself into the trees, staring and waiting, crouching at the ready. His eyes look murderous with glee. ~Come fuckers! Come to your death!~
The second arrow from KL misses slightly to the left, embedding itself between skin and skull, sticking out towards the ground in a sickening display. The beast only starts barking and the dogs, only running before not break into an all out frenzied pace. This grabs the bull's attention, but it isn't kept for long, the calls from Howls and Forath-Ripper taking all of it. The rats arrive before their targets and the four dog-sized rats rear up on fat hind legs to bite at their foes.
The bull turns about with startling speed and is already rushing towards Brom and Friends. Over by the archer and her protectors, the dogs are only a second away.
Two of the rats focus on attacking Brom, another goes for Stone-Spirit and a fourth moves through the two attacked Garou to seek out Cries-No-More's blood. The birds continue to circle high over head, though tight enough a flock to make it a large target, high enough and flying fast enough to be individually poor targets.
Jeren's eyes narrow, and she only just stops herself from swearing as the bull goes charging for Brom's group. The Ragabash abruptly switches her target--she lowers the gun and turns, following the bull's charge with the muzzle for a breath. And then she fires, aiming at his head.
Judges-Souls growls deeply as Jeren takes her mind and the command of orders. ~That little fuck....~ she growls before she keeps her attention on KL. ~Keep shooting, you're doing fine.~
Touch Deer waits till the last moment then bursts forward from his hiding place, barreling into one of the oncoming rats and aiming to tear its throat out with a well-placed bite. Howls-For Glory drops to all fours, swiping out viciously at one of the rats that is attacking Touch Deer with black-gleaming talons.
Stone-Spirit tenses and waits for just that right moment, before charging in and trying to rip the rat that leaps at her in mid air, using her claws to degut the beast. Hard and Fast.
Forath-Ripper waits for just that moment, then goes to strike one of the leaping rats as Flood of Flame aims for the other, the pair of Garou looking to make short work of the familiar creatures the pair fought before in the city. Bloods-Bane only pauses enough to wait until the bull is close enough to be charged. He does so, charging after the bull and wanting to send the 4x4 against it's legs, raking the wire down it's body, so as to throw it off balance and to the ground if possible.
Flood-of-Flame drives his makeshift pike into the nearest rat, aiming to pierce through the chest and stick out the other end. He hefts the pike in the air, then, should his quarry hold, whacks the rat against the trunk of a tree rapidly.
As the dogs charge, KL appears to consider another shot, then flings the bow into a nearby bush and shifts up into the war form ready to take the onslaught of the canine combatants. The strap on her quiver snaps as she does so, and the item itself falls to the floor behind her. ~too close~ she growls. ~NO MERCY!~
The Shadow Lord continues to stay in Hispo as he protects the Black Fury, that is until she throws her weapon down. Growling in his throat, he challenges the lupes to charge, concentrating upon a gift to will the pain away that is soon to come.
Judges-Souls's fur at the back of her neck spikes. ~Give it on three,~ she says, judging how close the dogs are from them. She crouches on all fours in crinos, ready to take down the nearest dog that comes within her deadly grasp.
One of the rats manage to get in a good chomp on Forath-Ripper before he and can make it so much very dead. Emma fares better in avoiding injury, only getting a couple of claw scratches, but her own counter-attack doesn't quite put down the beast. Flood-of-Flame's weapon does more as a battering ram than a spear, coming in from the side he slams into the rat and knocks it on its back, where it writhes in pain for a bit seeking to flip itself over. The combination of Touch Deer and Howls-For-Glory is perhaps the most efficient of all the warriors, delivering a very well placed pair of killing blows that seems to flow with such smoothness as to be nearly graceful. Bloods-Bane stops now to bend over and de-throat the rat who just landed on its ass near him. Still the bull charges and will within a few seconds be right on top of Flood-of-Flame and Forath-Ripper.
Over by the other group, the timing offered by Judges-Souls pays off, rather than meeting clumsily into a foe that knows its terrain, they are able to make their attack when the dogs are in mid-bound, more focused on movement than attack. The dog on Garou clash is violent, these animals definatly putting up more of a fight than the rats.
The two cats just now decide that it is time to join in. They almost casually stand from where they are, and with a blur take off towards Brom's group, moving almost too fast for the eye to track, as if their legs were tires instead. they break off into a wide-circle with the other side looking to come together right at Cries-No-More's position.
Then a shot rings out, Jeren finally firing hergun. The bullet strikes the King Bull right below its left eye, and penetrates flesh, doing enough damage to crack bone underneath and visibly lodge in it, the other end of the bullet still sticking out of the bull visibly. He seems unfazed by the wound, like it was the bite of a stinging insect, and is hell bent on goring his targets.
Jeren fires again at the bull, twice, after only a half second to account for the speed and increased distance. Her muscles are taut, and as much as she's concentrating on her target she's also trying to keep the caws of the large birds in mind. Three bullets down, seven left in the magazine.
Judges-Souls crashes into one of the dogs like a tidal-wave, although she is ready for it with feral instincts. She gives the tainted dog exactly what it is asking for, a proper death with her razor-sharp claws. Her eyes blaze wildly with blue fire as she looks around her, snarling as she attempts to take down whatever evil that crosses her path. ~Die you fucking dogs!~ she sneers.
Escapes (KL) lets out a howl of pure rage as she tears into the dog in front of her, her blows flying rapidly as she assaults the wyrm-ruined creature with her claws a blur of motion aimed mostly at the head, hoping not only to disable and kill the beast, but prevent it from getting an attack on her.
Stone-Spirit doesn't hesitate a moment to deliver the death blow upon her rat target, before rising up to look for an opening upon the Red Bull as it crashes down upon them. Bloods-Bane looks up to see the bull, he makes sure to dodge the horns and makes to come in from the side, ripping the beast's legs from under it with the razor wire and pulling up to rip hide if successful. Forath-Ripper, with those few spare seconds that he has, blurs himself forward into the killing machine that he is, looking to avoid the spears of the bull, and in turn, strike fast and deadly with his razor claws.
Dagger's-Edge hangs back for but half-a-second as Escapes and Judges leapt forward to engage. The Shadow Lord himself blurs into action in engaging a dog as well, bunching his legs and leaping towards his target with claws raking out.
The scene is as follows, the Barn is to the north of the combatants: Forath, Bloods-Bane, Flood, Stone Spirit and Touch Deer with the rats, cats, and bull. They are in a clearing area, engaging their foes and about to clash with the bull. To the southwest of them, just inside the tree line are KL, Judges, Dagger's-Edge, and Kenneth. Jeren is somewhere between the two, on her stomach firing off shots at the bull.
A shot, far louder, than Jeren's glock rings out from roughly 50 feet northeast from the entrenched garou; Jervis stands, shotgun aimed toward the tight flock of birds, then starts moving towards the rest of the group, gun still aimed, hastily getting off the second shot before running to join his comrades.
The birds do not take too kindly to this treatment, while a good six of them fall dead from the sky, the remaining what appears to be eleven divebomb now directly at Jervis.
Over by the Bull... Blam! Blam! Blam! Three shots come out of Jeren's gun now, first once again striking the head with much the same result as before, the second hitting the chest with not so much as an obvious scratch, the third punctures deep into the Bull's stomach behind the ribcage eliciting a deep and pained sound from the King Bull. Stone-Spirit suffers a quick bite from her rat foe, but manages to get in a killing blow herself. Bloods-Bane and Flood-of-Flame leap to both sides of the bull as he collides with Forath-Ripper who barely manages to avoid getting gored, rakes powerful claws through the Bulls' face, nearly taking out an eye but getting the two smaller fingers of his left hand bitten clean off at the first knuckle for the trouble. He still is in prime postion to dance with those massive horns the beast has though. Of lthe two Garou coming up on the Bull from the, only Bloods-Bane is able to make purchase and an efficent strike, Flood leaping on only to be tossed off by a bucking of the bull, head striking the dirt ground hard. Now is Cries-No-More able to stand to the full glory of his Crinos height, facing the bull he growls with a vicious snarl belt out a roar that is truely to be feared. The bull stops in its tracks then, eyes widened it starts to step backwards awkwardly. his shoulder.
Over by the dogs... KL gets in a really good shot on her dog, the one with the arrow sticking from its head, and tears the bottom half of the beasts jaw clean from its muzzle. It falls to the ground in a whimpering pained mass making KL's next killing blow all the more simple. Judges-Souls attack knocks her dog back with its ferocity, and then the Fenrir pulls from her side her tied on Labrys, which she slams forward into the dog's back with a force of rage so strong it damn near cuts the thing in two lengthwise. Kenneth's hesitation earns him a bite in the leg from the remaining dog, but that puts the beast in a vunerable position, claws come down then up to rip the dog's throat out both ways like a double-door. The dogs are all dead, freeing up those fighting them.
The two cats continue to circle, as fast as they are they seem to find a way to widen their circle to delay their strike, leaving Howls waiting for them longer than expected.
Bloods-Bane turns to the side and aims for the top of the head with the 4x4, meaning to sink it into the Bull's head, and eyes hopefully, pulling back with the razor wire to split it open. Roaring out loudly, Forath-Ripper once more becomes the living nightmare of rage as he gets himself down lower, looking to grip the cow under the chin with his good hand, claws sinking deep, and jerk its head up so that he can land his powerful jaws into its throat, yanking back and forth like a wild dog on a scrap of meat. It doesn't appear that he is going to let go.
Stone-Spirit engages in battle with her Get of Fenrir brothers, sharp, razor claws cutting quick and fast as she aims to gut at the belly of the red beast and slice it open, forcing her anger through her attack. ~Die!~ She roars out as her voice shakes her chest. Flood-of-Flame bites into the flesh of the bull and attempts to latch on, leaving both sets of claws free to tear into the beast's side. His claws move in a flurry, attempting to rend flesh from bone and tear vital organs out. Howls-For-Glory grows impatient waiting for the felines to attack, and so takes the fight to them. Moving in a blurr of motion, the Fianna lashes out twice at the closest feline, each with an unerring focus of purpose.
As the birds dive toward Jervis, Jeren returns to her original intention. The Ragabash spins up into a crouch, once again pausing to aim as well as she can with this distance, and that speed. Then she fires. And she doesn't stop firing this time, not until the entire magazine is emptied.
Escapes tosses aside the carcass of enemy before resuming her long-range firing of her arrows. The Fury takes aim towards one of the birds this time, concentrating on the right moment before letting fly. Dagger's-Edge roars angrily at the dog that bit him, and after tearing out the mutt's throat, kicks it to one side before scanning the fray going on near the bull. Judges snarls, curling up her lip as she feels her fur burning. ~Fuck,~ she says. She picks up dirt from the ground, trying to stop the heat from rising as she clenches her teeth together. The Get for the meantime remains with the Fury, still protecting her back as the Shadow Lord attacks the bull. The Philodox growling under breath something about glory.
Judges snarls, curling up her lip as she feels her fur burning. ~Fuck,~ she says. She picks up dirt from the ground, trying to stop the heat from rising as she clenches her teeth together. The Get for the meantime remains with the Fury, still protecting her back as the Shadow Lord surveys the scene.
Jervis stops his retreat to where his comrades are gathered, a bit past halfway, after hearing the shots fired by Jeren. He then furiously reloads a single cartridge into the gun, and, if he's quick enough, fires at the oncoming swarm. Not waiting to see the results he quickly grips the gun by the barrel, ready to use as a club against those that managed to elude the two no-moons' combined flak. "Fuckin' hate birds..."
By the King Bull... the razorwire thuds deeply into the Bull's head, but pulling it back becomes damn near impossible, too much resistance in its flesh, it does serve to cover up one of the bull's eyes sticking up stiffing in an odd angle houwever as Bloods loses grip on it. Forath-Ripper succeeds in an attack on the bull's jaw, managing to destroy the joint of it and the lower jaw of it just hangs open in a bloody mess, the answer to this is a roaring swipe with its horns, which catch the Get on the shoulder, cutting deeply into him and knocking him back on his ass. This gives Touch Deer the opening he needs to leap in with a single finger he pokes the bull in the middle of its bloodied face and the thing goes down on its side like a sack of potatoes, another victim of the falling touch. It is already thrashing to get back to its feet, horns flailing around like a demon possessed. Stone-Spirit then gets in on the fallen bull, able to get close enough to claw out a long divet of flesh from the Bull's shoulder, a wound indeed but nothing too severe, earning a quick slash of a horn across the leg for her trouble. Flood-of-Flame once more faces the embarassment of being unable to get in a successful strike.
Over by the cats... Howls-For-Glory suddenly rages into one of the felines, and with a very luck driven strike cleanly opens its face to more than halfway through it's brain, dead on arrival. The other cat sees this and decides instead to go after the fallen Forath-Ripper, dangerous but already wounded.
The birds find themselves in a strange cross fire, another shotgun blast, fire from a glock, then an /arrow/ come flying up at the birds. The buck quickly takes another four birds, down and the frenzied glock fire manages to nail another two while the arrow flies true to the rear-most bird, bringing it low. Jervis is there to take the punishment of claws and beak from the five remaining Wyrm Crows, and he doesn't look too good after, clothing and skin ragged up a good deal from the ultra-sharp talons.
Jeren snatches up her bag and releases the depleted magazine over it, then retrieves the spare she brought and slides it up into the Glock. Two swift clicks, and the weapon is reloaded. She springs up, abandoning her firing spot and bolting toward the besieged Jervis with all possible speed.
The King Bull in a powerful writhing gets to its feet, knocking Touch Deer back and cutting the Fostern ahroun's stomach open with a swipe of its horns, and Flood-of-Flame and Bloods-Bane on their asses. Judges-Souls starts huffing in a strange fashion, breath coming difficult to her and then she snaps, frenzy taking hold. She has that axe still in her hands as she runs forward in a blur of rage, it isn't until she is right before the bull that she brings the axe down in its face with such force it is buried to the handle, in her frenzy she is unable to control herself however, and she impales her self straight on on the Bull's horns, the curvature of them first puncturing straight through the Philodox, then ripping outwards with such force from the collision that all that is left to be seen of Judges-Souls' midsection is her spine, flesh gibbed away onto the ground. As if unsure of their obvious death's, the bull and the Fenrir stagger back a moment, then collapse, both very dead.
Nocking arrows again, the Fury with the bow lines up her sights for the Wyrm Crows attacking Jervis, this time waiting scant seconds between letting the ranged weapon fly towards their targets. Dagger's-Edge snarls, seeing the Get break off from the Fury. Turning though, he roars out to the Fury, ~Keep the arrows coming!~ and charges towards Jervis' direction to aid the Fang in dispatching the tainted avians. Claws out, the Shadow Lord leaps out and tries to rake one of the birds if they get close enough.
Iron-Eyes shifts quickly, amidst a loud, guttural "DAMMIT!", and quickly rushes as fast possible to the larger moon group, and the cover of the forest, having dropped the shotgun in the midst of the sheer pain.
Bloods-Bane sees Erika get gorged and this causes him to moves forward, pulling the axe from the Bull's head, doing whatever it takes to get it out and spin around to face whatever else there is, out for blood now. Howls-For-Glory lives up to his name, letting out a bloodcurdling howl as he chases after the feline moving to attack Forath-Ripper. ~Not done with you, yet!~ Tapping into the anger just beneath the surface, the Fianna moves to strike with his claws at the fleeing cat while simultaneously trying to snap his jaws shut around the thing's hindquarters. As Forath-Ripper stumbles back and hits the ground, he starts to quickly scoot his way back up, claws at the ready, even when the world about him goes quickly black. ~Howls-For-Glory, I've lost my eyes, guard me!~ He roars out in frustration, blood dripping down his wounded shoulder and maimed hand.
Stone-Spirit draws herself back as soon as Judges-Souls impales herself upon the antlers of the beast, blood dripping from her claws. She only pauses for a moment before jerking her chin about, looking for another target, keeping her mind focused on the fight then her stomach churning. Seeing Judges fall, Flood-of-Flame howls out in Rage. He charges the remaining cat head-on. His jaws are parted, bearing fangs, and his claws are extended with the murderous intent of ripping the feline to shreds.
Jeren skids to a halt, raises the glock, and fires at the remaining birds harrowing Jervis. Her teeth are bared in a still silent snarl, eyes narrowed to slits. Her entire focus is on taking out the corvids.
A second arrow flies towards the tainted birds, not quite as true as before, though with them being less organized in their movements this makes sense. Iron-Eyes is able to get away long enough for Jeren to get her shots off, one then two birds go down, the remaining three finally giving up and heading back up towards the sky.
Flood-of-Flame finally gets a true strike in, and though he recieves a scratch down the arm, he manages to put his outstretches claws clean through the cats body, giving an odd appearance as it now hangs limply around the Gaian's forearm.
Dagger's-Edge slows as he nears Jervis, feeling a sudden burn flare up through his body. The Shadow Lord drops low to all fours, panting hard and just managing to growl out at the Fang, ~Get to the Fury!~ while swiping a large clawed hand in a 'stay away from me' gesture. Escapes snorts as the birds make their retreat, her arrow notched but not pulling back on the bowstring. She finally gets the chance to look towards the fight with the bull once more, to see where the Get by her side had gone.
Bloods-Bane takes some time in getting that Labrys out of the bull's head, but eventually it does come free with an quite audible sucking sound.
Touch Deer surveys the scene, then suddenly collapses to the ground, unconscious. A couple of seconds later, Stone-Spirit follows in the same action.
Flood-of-Flame shakes the dead cat from his arm, and then growls out in frustration: there seems to be nothing left to kill that he can see. Instinctively, he looks to his packmate first, and then to the remaining Garou. ~Does anyone know the Mother's Touch?~ he rumbles.
Stumbling back a bit, Forath-Ripper takes in a deep breath, ears lifting. ~Everyone still alive?~ He asks with a growl in his throat. He slowly circles, holding his arms out ahead of him, claws at the ready.
Howls-For-Glory is in remarkably good condition. Aside from the grey matter on his hands, he's barely even touched. A low growl rumbles from him. ~Sit down, Ripper,~ he growls. ~Judges-Souls...she's..with Fenris now.~ He looks towards the greenhouse, lips curling back. ~This place should be razed to the ground.~
There is a small pause between each of Jeren's shots now, as while she's intent on taking out the survivors before they get out of range, the fact that they're retreating allows her enough breathing room to be more precise with her aiming. The Ragabash's demeanor is tense, but controlled and concise.
Bloods-Bane growls as his want for blood is not met with anything charging towards him. He begins to calm, looking back to the fallen Get. He steps towards her body and looks down on it, pausing for a moment before he walks over to the Bull and pulls the 4x4 out of it's head. A step more towards Brom. ~Judges-Souls is dead.~ He says, passing his packmate. ~Are we to bring the place to the ground? Say the word.~ He growls out, obviously wanting to do more damage.
Iron-Eyes collapses onto his haunches, surveying and calculating despite his wounds. ~I hate birds...~. He then looks over, upon hearing the wrod on Judges-Souls. ~Fuck.~
Another couple of shots ring out, and one of the three birds comes down towards the Earth in the trees northeast of the Garou.
The Forsetti pauses for a moment as the news of Judges-Soul's death sinks in. ~She is in Valhalla then. Bloods-Bane, Dagger's-Edge, Shadow Dancer and Howls-For-Glory, go to the green house and make sure its unguarded, then bring it down if you can. Set it on fire. If you are unable to, it is priority first thing in the morning. Everyone, breathe for the moment and gain your wits back. I'm no good without my sight.~ He sniffs towards the Child of Gaia. ~You're in charge.~
Flood-of-Flame lets out a short howl in honor of Judges-Soul's death, singing of how her death brought her Glory. At Forath-Ripper's declaration, he draws himself up. ~As much as I want to tear this place apart... there could be more enemies, even stronger ones. Should we risk another death? No one here seems to have the gift of healing.~ He licks his muzzle, and looks at each of the Garou gathered. ~There may be some gas, to set the place on fire, within the barn, or the farmhouse itself. If you want to risk more enemies...~
Jeren lowers the gun as the last two birds fly out of range, though she continues to squint after them until they've completely disappeared from sight, trying to note their direction. Then she slides her finger away from the trigger, and bulks up into crinos--apparently for the sole purpose of gritting her teeth even harder, as the Ragabash is still determinedly silent.
Howls-For-Glory pulls himself up tall, snarling out an affirmative. ~If there's something here, it could well escape before we come back. I say we at least look. Any who don't want to are free to leave. But I will know what is in there before we go!~ He gives a proud toss of his head.
Iron-Eyes gives a pained, but bizarrely grinning nod to Flood. ~Healing...is definitely something to _not_ overlook, in the future~
In the greenhouse, with its windows painted black, is a laboratory with cages everywhere, and a couple of pens. Around 20 peanut-butter sized bottles of green good reminicent of what the tainted animal's secreted are found on a worktable, along with discarded syringes all over the place. Death hangs in the air in there, and carcases are everywhere.
Dagger's-Edge snarls again in effort to keep himself under control, and finally wills himself to shift to a form with less Rage under the skin, that of lupus. A glance is sent down to his bitten leg, before he looks to those who were named along with him to scout said greenhouse. The Shadow Lord's eyes narrow with restrained control as he accompanies the others.
In the Barn though, one finds a tattered labcoat, covered in blood around whats left of some broken bones.
Flood-of-Flame grunts at his packmates answer. ~Let those who are still strong look for fire-making.~ With that, he leads the way, scouring the environs for anything that could be used to burn the structures down.
~I will just stand here, fucking useless.~ Forath-Ripper rumbles in his throat as he sniffs the air still, shifting his weight about as he concentrates on his surroundings. ~Good luck and report back what you find.~
Howls-For-Glory goes to investigate the greenhouse first, sweeping in with rather less caution than might be strictly required. He examines the place quickly, snarling at the remains found in the wreckage. When he steps out, he shakes his head to the group. ~Nothing lives. There are poisons in there. To make creatures, I think. It should be burned.~
Dances Shadows releases the half empty clip into the bag to join it's brother, then tosses the bag into the tree fringe. She can retrieve it later. As for the glock, her claws curl around it for a moment, before the gun dissolves into a fine mist that forms into one of the tattoos on her shoulder. Then she takes off at a swift run to join Howls-for-Glory in inspecting the grounds of the tainted farm.
Surprisingly, not much. Though you do find a bill of sale, a couple of degrees, and some letters in a desk drawer, the dead guy is a PHD a couple of times over, whose father is a prominent physicist that bought the farm so his son. There are some letters of condolence from a few people, and a couple of colleges, on the abrupt disappearance of his father.
"~Retrieve any papers!~" the Fang belts out, loudly, before standing, grunting at the pain it causes him...and also, giggling a little, if softly, as if somehow amused by the sensations, as well. ~Or anything that looks...informative.~
Dagger's-Edge growls his wordless concurring that the place is just nasty. Then he adds, We come back later with Cleansers. This place burning will only attract humans too close to our ~farmhouse~, and put the forest in danger.
Howls-For-Glory snorts. ~It's spring! But perhaps the Cleanswers will have better luck. We should take the poisons, so they cannot be stolen or lost.~ He moves toward the greenhouse even as he speaks to do just that.
Flood-of-Flame wrinkles his nose and shows teeth at the Wyrm-saturated evidence he finds, clearly disgusted. ~Dagger's-Edge may be right. We should still check the house, though.~ The Ahroun turns, still in Crinos, and starts towards the dwelling.
Dances Shadows gives a tight little nod, concurring with Dagger's-Edge. She still seems reluctant to release the Silence Rite, so she only gestures toward the farmhouse to explain what she's going to check out before head inside the first opening she finds.
Dagger's-Edge snorts again, scratching a forepaw against the ground as if to say that he /is/ right, but not going to argue over the point. The Shadow Lord turns then and shifts to Crinos once more. ~We can put the dead animals in the barn and hide them there, until the cleansers come. Once all has been rid of taint, then we bury the bodies. Easy enough.~
Iron-Eyes staggers and grunts still more, bracing himself uprgiht against the trunk of a nearby tree, unmistakable smile still painted on his Crinos' muzzle. ~Burn as you see fit...just...remember what I said. Knowing how this happened will better ensure it does not repeat.~
Howls-For-Glory comes out of the greenhouse, the small bottles of poison held in his arms. ~This is all of them.~
Dances Shadows is rummaging around inside the farmhouse. While she hasn't released her Rite, she isn't trying to be stealthy anymore--there's more than a few rustlings and bangings inside to account for her movements.
Flood-of-Flame sweeps the house from downstairs to up, assuming there is an upstairs. He opens cabinets, overturns furniture, generally makes a horrible mess whilst still in crinos. Anything breakable is smashed. If there's a cellar, that too is trashed.
Dagger's-Edge does his part in only eyeing Jervis for a bit at the ragabash's words, before latching onto the carcass of the bull with others and hauling the corpses big and small minus Erika's, to the barn.
Jervis shifts, painfully, laughing a little, again, at the sensation. "Oh wow...that _did hurt_..." he mutters, voice now much like a snakes', albeit if the serpent in question was gargling sawdust at the time. "I'll...take a look at all this shit later...put it somewhere safe...Farmhouse...or wherever."
Dances Shadows concentrates on documentation, either due to Jervis' insistence, or her own thoughts following in the same vein. She's careful enough, though more than one page gets a claw rip nevertheless. Everything she finds is tucked under one long, hairy arm.
Howls-For-Glory looks at Jervis, cocking his head at the Silver Fang. ~It was not supposed to tickle,~ he states simply. ~The poisons I will lock in the healing-room of our home.~
Flood-of-Flame actually does find something useful, once his Rage is sated - some large dufflebags, which may be useful in transporting bodies and Wyrm-tainted paraphernalia. He shifts down to Glabro and emerges from the house with the bags in tow, then places them before the barn. "Cole, you can put the bottles in here. I'll help. Rat and cat bodies can maybe go in that other one. Might be able to..." He gestures at Erika's remains, and then at the third large bag.
Howls-For-Glory looks at the backs, and then his Alpha. He wordlessly drops into his form of birth. He uses the bag provided to hold all the vials of goo. Once those are stowed, he very carefully starts to clean up the smaller carcasses and lay them in the barn.
Dances Shadows trails out of the farmhouse a minute or so after Flood-of-Flame. The bundle of papers is dumped unceremoniously onto the cleanest patch of dirt she can find (which isn't saying much, given the farm's former occupants). And then, it's like opening a pressure valve--she takes two steps away from the pile, bares her teeth, and snarls. With this noise comes a sudden onrush of...noise. Every single subtle and un-subtle sound that her Rite was holding in is released in one short, painful burst. As if adding to it, she claws furiously at the ground for a good minute and a half.
Dagger's-Edge near stumbles out of the barn at the end of Dances' burst, shifting down to the lupus once more and shaking his fur out from head to toe. The halfmoon growls again, and works his way to his packmates before finally standing still and waiting for the signal to leave. When it is given he departs as silently as he came, with but a fresh limp to note on his hindleg.
Jervis slowly staggers to full upright, and smiles, satisfied that his recommendations have been tended to. "Call it a day, then?" he asks, not waiting for answer, before beginning to limp, pained, away and back to the Farmhouse.
Auggie helps Cole pack the bottles and bodies into the bags, trying not to get too much blood and muck and green goo on his hands, with only marginal success. Once all packed, he shoulders the heaver bottle-filled bag with a quiet groan. "Guess we should get goin' now." He starts to plod slowly back north, towards the farmhouse. He'll stay in Glabro as long as he can - the bag weighs easily eighty or ninety pounds, and it pulls awkwardly on his shoulder.