Two Eagles Bluff(#3332RJ)
Obvious exits:
Cave Trail
Squall has arrived.
Hope-Star carries a rabbit back to the bluff to eat in peace, brooding over it as she begins to shred it.
Climbs up the bluff, panting heavily, tongue lolling out the side of his jaws. He bows his head for a second, catching his breath. Suddenly his breathing slows and he sniffs the air, raising his head.
From afar, to the room, Ember mutters, meant that as a pose.
Hope-Star catches the sound of his approach with sensitive ears and hunkers down over her kill possessively.
Ember looks you over.
Hope-Star(#3589POceq$)
Frankness blend with fierceness in one form. This young black jackal, no more than the size of a German Shephard even in Hispo, bears the long narrow muzzle, slim bony frame, and large ears of her tribe. Her neat black pelt is laced with the rough furrows of numerous scars, some crisscrossing the brand of an Egyptian Eye seared over her heart, others digging deep over the narrow lines of her lower back and left hindleg, which she seems to favor slightly.
Away from human forms this little Strider fairly sparkles with an inner fire, a relaxed confidence that's more sober than cub's arrogance but less than elder's dignity. Yet her head and tail are raised high in an understated expression of authority before both cliath and cub, even if she seldom asserts rank openly.
Ember bows his head, seeing Sepdet. He grins a little. Don't worry, I already ate.
Hope-Star seems a little edgy tonight, but goes back to her dismembering after a tense moment. She attacks the carcass aggressively, crunching the bones.
Ember takes note of her rather dismissive attitude, and walks over to the still-warm fire ring, giving her and her food a wide berth. He flops down on the rock, careful not to get his fur too close to the embers, and starts the slow process of cleaning his fur.
Hope-Star circles around, facing him. Eventually she licks her lips and slips off. It seems like she may have left altogether, but after some time she returns dripping and clean from the nearby stream, and circles around the fire to get warm. We hunt tomorrow, she explains shortly.
Ember's ears perk slightly at the rather blunt comment. His lips pull back in a grin and one ear twitches. Sounds fun. How are you?
Hope-Star begins to groom herself. Tired and angry. But well. Can you scent Wyrm yet, pup?
Ember shakes his head, a thin cloud of ash and dust rising from his fur. No, how do I do that?
Hope-Star sighs. It is dangerous work. With my cubs, I take them to an area with taint. If they have the gift, they will begin to feel the wrongness when they move over a bad place. Then we practice.
Ember chuffs. A gift then? I have not been tested for that yet.
Ember idly starts cleaning his tail. But this Wyrm scenting allows a garou to pickup on traces of Wyrm?
Hope-Star is preoccupied for a moment with chewing on a toenail, accompanied by that annoying >rrrp rrrp rrrp< noise of tooth scraping bone. Yes. It tells you what the Defilers have touched, and shows you the Defilers themselves. Soulcatcher and I used this trick tonight to scout the island where we will hunt tomorrow. We found enemies hidden there the other scouts did not detect.
Ember pauses in his grooming to look up. Sounds like a useful gift. And seems dangerous, if there are enemies there that were not detected... Is it dangerous?
Hope-Star's teeth gleam. Oh, yes. We dared not get too close to them, to discover what they were. So we do not know their strength. But at least now we know they are -there-.
Ember grins and returns to getting the last bits of twig out of his coat. Better to know they are there, then. Having Wyrm suddenly ambush us would not be a great thing. Will many be hunting there, or just a small group?
Hope-Star grimaces. Two packs. This is the mission Soulcatcher and I have been training for, under Wolverine.
Ember takes note of her expression, and his ears flick down a bit. You don't seem pleased that there are two packs. Why?
Hope-Star snaps her jaws in a sort of bark of laughter. It is not that. It is just Wolverine. That spirit is fierce, and demands 'no mercy'. I always fight for Gaia. But I have not fought under such a Totem of War before.
Ember frowns a little, as he finally starts to get cozy, having preened over himself long enough. Is...that a good thing? Being under a spirit as fierce as Wolverine. I don't think I'd enjoy that.
Hope-Star's ears flatten against her skull. It is right for most Garou. For me, it was madness. But I have been mad since Soulcatcher left, since Quiet's pack vanished, since the Defilers took Purity's island for their own. Wolverine is the fire that will help me burn the madness to ash. When the Defilers are dead, I can be whole again.
Ember nods once, doing his best to tread carefully. His tail flicks up and down nervously. When the hunt is over, what will you do then? Will you stay under Wolverine?
Hope-Star snarls and takes a step backwards. No. When we have killed all the spirits and the Dancers that defiled our friends' island, we will put off our teeth and claws and the blood and fire. I will go back to being Hope-Star the Healer, not Swims-through-Silver.
Ember eases a bit and nods, tongue lolling out. Good. No offense, but I think you do better as a healer than as a vicious warrior. Not that you're bad at it, just that..it doesn't seem to suit you.
Hope-Star concedes it with a shudder. I will not say it was wrong. But it's not right. I have had to hurt spirits, to prove myself to Wolverine. I have had to walk a path not mine.
Hope-Star twists in place with a low growl. And I'll finish it, you >bastard<, so don't you dare tell me I'm not fit to follow you.
You paged Ember with 'That last comment, of course, was addressed to thin air, not at Squall. ;)'.
Ember chuffs. I think sooner or later we all become something we wish we weren't, or even something we hate. But I think most come out of it with a stronger sense of themself.
Ember's ears go out to either side, his tail pulling in close, at her outburst. His eyes are wide and he lets out a faint whine.
Ember pages: Heh, Squall's thinking 'What the hell did I do?!"
Hope-Star faces away from the cub, snarling that gutteral, warning tone that wolves will just before leaping at each other in a dominance fight. She glares at shadows, hackles raised, braced as if facing into a gale.
Ember stays quiet, licking his muzzle and wondering if she was serious when she mentioned madness. Is..everything alright?
Hope-Star doesn't answer, and doesn't answer, and what can Ember do if his elder has gone mad? But finally, after a vicious sudden lunge that ends with her jaws snapping air, she twists around and sags to the ground, facing him. Wolverine and I do not get along, she explains tiredly. He thinks I'm weak.
Ember blinks, glancing once to the empty air beside her. That was him then?
Hope-Star growls irritably. Yes.
Ember frowns a little, bearing fangs. Sure he's a Totem of War, and not Annoyance?
Hope-Star's tail skips with a ghost of humor. He is both. And I need all my claws and strength and anger to win against these banes. He'll give me fire to avenge the Island and the spirits there which the Dancers killed. That place holds the ashes and memories of too many of my friends. It has been -raped- now. I will hurt those who dared to hurt it.
Ember smiles slightly, yawning and licking his teeth. I wish I could help, but I'd be gutted before I could blink twice. Though I do wish you and Soulcatcher, and everyone else, good hunting and safe returns. Destroying the Dancers is certainly important, but so are the lives of fellow garou.
Hope-Star shudders. Yes. I will not let us die on this. Healing must come after blood and fire.
Ember tilts his head slightly, ears splaying out to both sides. Good, I'd rather not have anyone die before I have a chance to meet them.
Hope-Star dances to one side and abruptly shifts up, still dancing in the way deer do when their feet want to be moving while their mind is preoccupied with other thoughts.
Hope-Star contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Glabro form.
Sepdet bears a fey smile. ~I have to deliver your elder back to you in one piece. You have a winter to master!~
Ember lets out a quick bark and follows Sepdet's lead, shifting up.
Ember contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Ember ripples and changes, slipping into Crinos form.
Ember(#4015PVce)
Sable fur blankets this massive creature, standing just under nine feet tall. Claws and fangs sharpened down to needle-like points glint slightly in the light, the wet lips pulling back from his teeth in a low snarl. Both ears are cocked low and backwards in an obvious display of wariness, and every muscle seems lax, as if waiting for something. Despite the obviously aggressive posture, he seems slightly uneasy, evident by his twitching tail and quick glances down at his hand/paws.
You paged Ember with 'I feel short .:)'.
Ember stretches his arms and neck, before rumbling out a chuckle. ~I would certainly appreciate it. I look forward to the training.~ Grins, displaying fangs galore.
From afar, Ember grins. Hey, even I'm a little short for a Crinos.
Sepdet pounces on the fire, stirs it, then lifts out a branch by an end that's stopped burning, holding up the torch and turning it slowly in her hand. She peers through the flames at him curiously, unafraid but surprised by his shift to a warrior's shape. ~Are you wanting training -tonight-, then?~ she asks, a playful edginess making her rich, gruff alto dip into an even lower register than usual.
Ember's eyebrows go up and he rumbles a laugh at her playful antics. At her question his chin juts forward a little, curious. ~Hmm... What did you have in mind?~
There's something a little dangerous in Sepdet's gaze, the fire flicking oddly over her brown skin, dark eyes. ~Fire and ice,~ she whispers.
One might find it comical. A massive, fanged and clawed beast the size of Ember, and yet it fidgets and manages to look not only nervous but a little..scared. ~Fire and ice.. What is that?~
Sepdet, five foot two, thin as a sapling, and managing to alarm a Wendigo who could probably break her in two if strength were all that counted. Ah, but the Wendigo is wise. The transition from standing to moving is as swift as a snake striking, and the little Strider seems to move twice as fast as humanly possible as she makes a sudden lunge at his midsection with the burning brand.
Ember lets out a sharp growl, both out of amazement, and fear as the torch dives in at his torso. His instant reaction is to go with his first instinct. He jumps back raising both arms, ready to slap the torch away.
Sepdet doesn't factor in the jump that she guessed he'd make: his dodge should take him from harm's way. She pivots away on one foot, the fire licking up towards her left hand as the swift motion causes the brand to sputter and flare.
Ember drops into a guarded crouch, knees wide, his left hand planted in front of him and supporting his weight, the other hand out to the side and slightly raised as if anticipating another strike. ~Is that fire and ice, or did you just want to play tag?~ He managed to calm himself as she moved away, but he still remains wary of this little firecracker...
Sepdet drops to a crouch, poised to spring again. ~The worst banes I faced as a cub,~ she says low and dangerously, ~were both Fire. They nearly killed me twice. It's no game at all, child of the North Wind. No game.~ She holds still now, watching him, the flames licking ever closer to her bare fingers.
Ember takes note of the tone in her voice, and responds levelly. ~I'll remember that. Where does the ice come in?~ He snorts slightly at her addressing of him. He mutters something about just hoping he can /move/ like the North Wind. His eyes flick to the fire still held in her hand, waiting for it to lash out in another strike.
Sepdet grins tightly. ~You are Wendigo: and Wendigo is the spirit of the northern air, the ice that bites and howls on the wind. Sometimes Ice can be an enemy, too; we've had ice spirits attack us long ago. But that's a story for another night, the Ice King, and the valor of Cougar's Nine, last of all the Wendigo to hold this caern before its first falling...~ She lulls him with the rhythm of her words and the music of her memories. Then she's bursting from the ground with a spring, rebounding off of one leg as she lands to leap at him, whirling the torch back, down, sideways and foreward like a baseball pitch, aimed straight for the side of his muzzle.
You paged Ember with 'But she's not letting go of the torch.'.
Ember bares his teeth slightly, still glancing back and forth from her face to the flame. He stops glancing though once she begins talking more, and his attention drops. He lets out a low roar as the torch impacts with his muzzle, as he falls back. Before his conscience can grab hold of him, and remind him of the power in one swing, the back of one hand lashes out at the torch in an attempt to knock it away.
It takes a few seconds of heat for fur to catch fire, luckily--and Sepdet knows that all too well from her own bad luck--so Ember is not ablaze when he pulls away. There's a crunch of bone as the branch goes flying out of the Strider's hand, masked by a faint yelp, and she lunges after the fallen brand to grab it any old place and keep it from torching the grass. She carries it long enough to drop it back into the fire-ring and then returns, gripping her left wrist in her right. She doesn't look very angry, although she's grimacing slightly. ~Good counter,~ she replies calmly, checking the ground where the branch fell to make sure there's no sparks lying in the grass.
Ember immediately jumps to his feet, ignoring the seared and stinging side of his muzzle. His eyes go wide with concern and anger at himself for letting his hand fly carelessly. ~Gods, are you alright? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, it's just that the flames were coming at me and my first reaction was to get it away!~ Everything tumbles out almost at once, as he frets, looking over Sepdet and wincing as he takes notice of her gripping her left wrist.
Sepdet gives a bark of laughter. ~You were supposed to be defending yourself. It's fine. I can't do too much with you tonight, unfortunately, or I won't be healed by the hunt tomorrow night.~
Ember lets out a rumbling sigh and shakes his head. ~Still, I should be thinking before I start swinging limbs around like that. I'm still not used to..well, this.~ He gestures to himself and gives a slight shrug.
Ember starts to gnaw on his lower lip before yelping, and remembering his teeth are much bigger, and much sharper in this form. He dabs at the faint puncture, nearly adding another with a wayward claw. ~How is your wrist? Is it broken?~
Sepdet wiggles her fingers, prodding the skin of the injured forearm with her free hand. ~A bit. But you didn't break the skin too much.~ She settles down by the fire as if waiting. ~I should be a little careful too. Wolverine's got me all itchy to fight. I took on too many spirits last night, and if I hadn't been in the umbra, I could've gotten hurt.~ Apparently, from her tone of voice, this doesn't qualify.
Ember joins her, trying to cross his longer legs and finding it to be a bit cumbersome. ~Good.. I know you're a healer, but it still doesn't help my conscience any knowing I snapped one of my teacher's wrists.~ He grins a bit at her comment on Wolverine. He doesn't like the totem, from the sound of it. But he's not stupid enough to outright slander Wolverine either. His ears flick as he very carefully uses a talon to scratch behind one of his temples. ~Umbra...that sounds familiar, but I can't place the word.~
Sepdet hums a few bars of her lullabye, opens and closes her hand once or twice, and holds it up. Apart from the bleeding skid-marks of one claw, it seems fine. ~See? Good as new. Broken bones, no problem. /Claws/, now, and fire, they would take a few days to heal.~ She settles back and stares into the fire. ~Umbra is the spirit world. I told you how everything's alive, and there's spirits in everything, like Gaia, or Weaver, or Wyld, or even Tree and Truth and Fox. Well. The world is like your hands.~ She holds out her right palm. ~Humans walk on the solid side, where things take shape. Then there's the spirit side, where the -soul-, the meaning lies.~ That's her left hand.
Sepdet continues, ~A long time ago, they were together.~ She places her palms flat against each other. ~But now they've come apart, and there's just a few things like Garou that can cross over both directions.~ She separates her hands slightly, then bends her index fingers inward, so that they cross and fit between the fingers of the opposite hand. Then she wiggles them.
Ember's eyes go wide at how simple she makes the healing look. He listens intently as she begins talking, looking for all the world like he's scribbling down every word on a mental notepad for later reference. ~What is the umbra like?~
From afar, to the room, Ember chuckles. Ember's going to wish there was a way to study all this, until he realizes all the training and teaching he gets eventually stays in his head.
Sepdet's eyes gleam. ~Like the truest story you ever dreamed.~
Ember tilts his head, unsure how to take that explanation. ~When will I be able to go there?~
Sepdet nods. ~When Soulcatcher thinks you're ready. It's a very alien world, and spirits can eat or attack or confuse you, and it's easy to get dangerously lost without a guide. He'll wait at least til the moon's come around to the full, because the moon's light shines twice as strong on the spirit-side, and helps us see more clearly there.~
Ember grimaces slightly at the mention of the dangers there, but he nods in acquiescence. ~I feel like a little kid that's just been told they're going to summer camp. So many things to look forward to, but it'll be..strange, too.~
Sepdet nods emphatically. ~Strange, frightening, wonderful: alien, so alien to a homid-born, as alien as the city is to me. I'll be there when you first see the umbra, almost certainly. So you'll be safe. I was born there. I have spent most of my life on the other side. These last five years, Soulcatcher has walked there with me.~
Ember grins a little, teeth gleaming from the firelight. ~Sounds like a dreamworld, in some ways. But with a sprinkling of traps and dangers too.~
Sepdet shakes her head. ~Everything that humans believe in, it's there. Fire. Pain. Coyote. Raven. Wendigo. Owl. There are worlds beyond counting, paths that reach from here to the sky and to the abyss the humans call "Hell". But our place is here. Our spot to protect and defend.~ She pats the ground.
Ember nods, feeling somewhat relieved that he hasn't yet seen the umbra. His teeth draw in his lower lip, ready to start gnawing until he remembers the last time he tried that. He lets the lip go and instead pokes at the fire with a stick. ~I haven't had any of those dreams lately.~
Sepdet's expression sobers. ~He gave you the message you needed to hear. No point in tormenting you by showing it to you again and again.~
Ember glances up from the fire, trying to manage a smile through all the teeth. ~I suppose so. In a way I expected to keep seeing it again and again.. It's the last part that worries me, the part where one of the Dancers sees me and gives me that..smile. I don't like that.~
Sepdet nods. ~We need to get you trained so that you'll be ready. There's a chance they may be looking for you. But you have friends here, so unlike your poor father, you won't have to fight alone if they come for you.~
Ember's head snaps up. ~They might come here, to find me? Would they be that stupid? I mean, maybe if they brought a couple dozen of themselves. But I only saw around ten in my dream. Wouldn't they get creamed, going up against all the garou?~
Sepdet nods slowly. ~Yes, but don't underestimate them. What if they were to come here--~ she opens her arm in a gentle sweep, cradling the air and the sight of the lonely bluff-- ~some night when Joseph and I and Little Bear are off hunting down by the Lake?~
Ember is noticeably worried now, giving furtive glances to the bluff and the area around it. Thoughts race through his head about the outcome of something like that... ~I think I see your point.~
Sepdet bares her teeth. ~And -they- could underestimate -us-. I can track a missing person by a name, a whisper, with no more than a stone in my hand. I admit this is true: it is possible, just possible, they might be searching for you. It is possible, just possible, they might trace you here, and try to strike when your elders are not close at hand. But you're right. There are Garou on the bawn who can hear you howl. And if one of my friends vanishes, I will hunt them to the gates of Erebus to get them home safe.~ Her eyes flash. Perhaps she has had to carry out this vow in the past, or has another hunt in mind.
Ember seems a little eased by that, nodding. ~Good.. I'll um, just have to keep my eyes peeled I guess.~
Ember takes a breath, looking around, before his eyes find the sky. ~So much to lose. Assuming they were looking for me, and I'll just be idealistic for the moment and they're not, I certainly won't go willingly, or quietly for that matter.~ He lets out a growling chuckle. ~I'll throw a tantrum as they drag me across the bawn if I have to, but I won't let them take me away from my family and friends. Not now.~ The last bit has the sound of desperation in it, as if he's clinging on to the life he's found.
Sepdet relaxes and nods. ~Anyway, I doubt you need worry too much. The chances that they really are searching for you, or able to find you, are very, very, very small indeed. The dream merely says: 'Be careful, my son. Do not follow my path. Keep your eyes open, and remember where your friends are if you ever need help.' I think that is what it means.~
Ember nods, his voice a little quiet as he bows his head away to look at the fire again. ~A good message, and one I plan on listening to until I draw my last breath.~
Sepdet tucks her knees into her chest in a posture she often assumes, wrapping her arms around her calves and propping her chin on her thighs to smile across at him. ~You have fallen into this place very well. Does your mother know where you are?~
Ember's jaw tightens noticeably, and he shakes his head. ~She only knows I was going to Vantage, Washington. Beyond that I don't think she has any idea.~
Sepdet speaks gently. ~Generally, we have to keep our lives secret from our kin, for they can make mistakes: break the Veil, give away things they should not to other humans. Those that walk with us are often placed in danger by our enemies, since as humans they are vulnerable. Also, during the time of your training, your mind must be -here-: on your place as a Garou. You are learning to survive. You are proving yourself to us.~ She licks her teeth. ~But Wendigo honor the ties of blood. It is up to Little Bear and Soulcatcher to decide when or whether to contact your kin. But if they deem it safe, I imagine Robin could arrange something.~
Ember speaks in a low, rough voice. His tone leaves it clear there is no wavering in his mind on his decision, nor does he wish to have it circumvented. ~I want her knowing nothing. Not ever. She may live out the rest of her days thinking I am dead, if that is what she believes. This is the only family I have anymore.~ He points a claw downwards at the rockface.
Sepdet's brows lift in surprise, but she bows her head at the vehemence behind his words. ~I defer to the homid-born, in questions of what humans should or should not know,~ she whispers softly. ~I crave family myself because mine was taken from me.~
Ember says, glancing up from the fire. ~My mother took herself from me. If she does not wish to be a part of my life, I intend to honor that wish to the extreme. She showed me little mercy in my life, and even less compassion or love. The least I can do is turn deaf ears to her now.~ He almost sounds like he believes it.
Sepdet frowns quietly. ~Never shut any door,~ she advises softly. ~But follow the path your heart sets before you. If it says, 'don't look back,' then fix your eyes on the horizon and start moving. Just keep an ear cocked behind you. To make sure you haven't left something behind you may be needing later.~
Ember grumbles slightly to himself. ~How am I expected to treat her with more patience and love than she showed me? She threw me aside when I needed her the most. I think she's happier without me. She certainly seemed to want me gone, who am I to argue with her?~ He has the sound of one who knows they are acting childishly, but would rather not act rationally, knowing that is a larger struggle.
Sepdet doesn't cajole, or coax, or correct, or question. She just falls silent, watching him across the fire with a somber gaze that collects and keeps words as if saving them til the end of time.
Chloe has arrived.
Chloe pages to the room: Mind company?
Ember takes a breath and sighs, rubbing his muzzle with a knuckle. ~I'm..I'm not saying I hate her, or that I will ignore her if she ever tries to find me. I am saying I see little reason to speak to her for some time, unless maybe she tries to contact me.~ He shrugs, looking up at the sky.
Ember pages to the room: Don't think it'd be a problem. Seppie?
You paged the room with 'Chloe knows my opinion on that topic. :)'.
Sepdet nods slightly and continues to pin him with silence.
A few faint scuffing footsteps announce the presence of someone on the trail approach. The night is black, and the lack of a moon would dissuade most night hikers--but then, in this part of the country, it's not just anyone hiking up to the heights. The visitor's progress is mostly silent, but after a time she appears: a vague human shape at the trail's end, a flag of long hair perhaps identifying her to the Strider. If not, her scent will serve: a blend of earth and small white flowers and one of the forest herbs.
Ember's muzzle wrinkles as his nose catches the scent, just before his ears pick up on the footsteps. ~Company?~
Sepdet's head comes up at the sound, and she unfolds herself from her seated position, planting a hand on the ground and pivotting away from the fire to peer towards the trail. She's already relaxing before the woman draws near, and tells the cub softly, ~Safe.~
Ember nods once, allowing the tension to ease out of his muscles. Strangers weren't all that uncommon, but with the new idea of potential Dancers searching for him, caution seemed well advised.
"Sepdet?" The voice is soft, oddly accented. "D'you mind a fire? It's freezing up here..." She takes a careful step closer. "Who's with you?"
Sepdet reaches for another log: there is a fire, but it's burned to low coals while the Garou were talking. "Guess it is," she says gruffly. "He's a cub, Lady. He's not allowed to eat you."
Ember chuckles, the sound a gruff rumble. ~Should I change?~ He motions to his teeth, fighting back a grin.
"Northwind told me to come here," the human-woman murmurs. Reaching the flat space where the coals smolder, she holds out her hands and breathes on the fire to fuel it; the flame brightens, catching instantly on the new wood. The light illuminates a sharp-planed, beautiful face, framed by dark hair that falls about the woman's shoulders in tangled curls. A Native face, with sharp black eyes and strong lines.
Ember twitches one ear in Sepdet's direction, his brows down. ~Did she just do what I think she did?~
Sepdet doesn't answer the cub for a moment, expression softening into a childlike smile as she watches Chloe's hands. "Mmmm?" she asks distractedly. "Oh. Yeah, she did."
From afar, to the room, Chloe erks. Is he really in Crinos?
Ember glances from Chloe to Sepdet, a little wary now. ~Was that a Gift?~
You paged the room with 'Yes.'.
You paged the room with 'So Chloe may have quite a shock when the fire lights up. ;)'.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly cloudy. The temperature is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.89 and rising, and the relative humidity is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.)
Sepdet huddles a little closer to the fire herself. She may have forgotten, but she's really not dressed for the weather now, and her feet have got to be quite numb.
You paged the room with 'Maaaann. It was still in the 60s and 50s last time I checked +weather. But that was last week. Time to find Sepdet's shoes. :)'.
Chloe studies the Crinos warily, even before the firelight reveals the hulking form. "Sepdet, do be sure and tell him I'm not a threat, if he's wolfborn. Should I call Northwind?"
Sepdet raises her hands over her head and stretches. "It'd be a treat for him," the Strider says a little reluctantly. "But it'll -bite- me. Go ahead, though; he hasn't seen a spirit yet."
Ember can't help it, as he lets out a booming laugh. He doubles up slightly, snickering, which sounds a bit like a motorcycle idling considering the expanse of his lungs now.
Sepdet gives Ember a grin across the firelight. "What?"
Ember wipes one of his eyes with a knuckle, smudging a tear away, still chuckling a little. ~Just not used to intimidating people. That caught me off guard.~
"I'll tell him not to bite," Chloe says dryly, giving Sepdet a dark look.
Ember grins, displaying gleaming rows of sharp teeth. ~Should I get into something a little more pleasing?~
Sepdet purses her lips. "It'd be polite," she agrees affably. But she's already starting to brace, wrapping her arms around herself defensively.
Ember nods once, before shifting all the way up to homid.
Ember contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Ember ripples and changes, slipping into Homid form.
Squall
Amber eyes glint slightly, from under a head of short dull black hair, the style reminiscent of the "just woken up" look. His complexion is a relatively clear copper/tan, and one might consider him to be fairly handsome. He seems to meander along as if unsure of his destination, his facial expression a clear picture of amusement and excitement. Tending to gnaw on his lower lip when nervous or deep in thought, he lets his emotions be read plainly. His voice is a somewhat growly baritone, but not all together unpleasant with its resonating quality.
At roughly five foot seven, Squall's lean frame only contributes to his lack in size. The cuffs of his dark blue jeans have frayed and the area around the knees has smoothed over. His sneakers are battered and well-worn, the shoelaces blackened at the ends where they were burnt to keep the material from shredding completely. A dark olive green corduroy jacket covers a thick black turtleneck which looks to be relatively new compared to the rest of his clothing.
You paged Squall with 'I still feel short. ;)'.
Squall shudders, still a little sensitive to that sensation. He bends his neck to the side a little, a faint popping audible. "Everytime I do that, I feel like I slip a disc."
From afar, Squall woohoos!
l Chloe
Large, almond-shaped eyes, of a brown deep enough to glint black in most light, dominate the girl's sculpted features. High cheekbones, delicate structure, a full-lipped and generous mouth prone to wry expressions: the youthful face has its own kind of beauty, strange to some eyes, far from the conventional good looks of this day and age. Skin of a light golden brown adds to the exotic cast of her features. Black hair frames the dark eyes in unruly waves, falling to the small of her back. Though she hardly looks older than nineteen, her expressions and sharp gaze convey a wisdom beyond that age, and a deep intuitive perception that seems to reach beyond the surface of things. Her body, petite and lean, moves with an understated grace: the ease of movement possessed by athletes and hunters.
Faded, ripped jeans loosely skim the curves of her legs, tucked into the tops of black combat boots. A white knit tank, indecent but for the cropped running bra beneath, tucks in at her narrow waist. The t-shaped, baring cut of the shirt's back reveals parts of a mark stretching between the girl's shoulder blades: an exquisitely detailed tattoo of a raven with wings outstretched, nearly spanning the width of the girl's shoulders. The tips of the bird's wings, and some of its head, peek through the open cut of the tank; from these bits and pieces of the whole, one can see that the artwork is a mass of deep, shimmering colors, midnight purples and darkest crimsons edging into the black of the raven's feathers. A scarred-in sigil marks the inner side of one forearm.
Chloe watches the change with neutral eyes, and then steps around the edge of the fire to offer a brown hand. "I'm Chloe. Some of your people call me Dreamwalker." This time the scar on her arm is bared to the light, should he notice; despite the cold, her sleeves are rolled up to the elbows.
Squall he nods his head a little to Chloe, taking her hand into his and gripping it once, firmly. He just /barely/ resists the urge to kiss the back of it and wiggle his eyebrows. "Sorry about that, I was working on getting more comfortable in the other um, forms. I'm Squall Akshani, Ragabash cub of the Wendigo. I don't bite, but I do get annoyingly sarcastic."
Sepdet monitors the exchange intently, but apart from gearing herself up for whatever magic show Chloe was alluding to a moment ago, the Strider seems to be relaxed. Much more so than she usually is when she's introducing someone to Chloe.
Chloe turns her forearm inner side up, revealing the glyph scarred there: the sign of the Wendigo. "Your tribe claimed me as kin, once," she answers. "A teacher of mine was Wendigo."
Squall takes note of the glyph and nods his head, looking up into her eyes and smiling. "Then you're family. Good to have met you."
Sepdet sits up straighter suddenly, nostrils flaring in a silent double-take. Hands move down to clasp her knees as she peers at Chloe from the other side of the fire.
Squall is much more aware of the cold in this form, and he draws his hands inside the sleeves of his jacket, edging closer to the fire and adding another large log. He throws it on the last several inches, a small shower of embers drifing up into the air before dying.
Chloe nods, a small concise dip of her chin. Then she steps away from the fire for a moment, turning from them to call out over the cliff in a soft voice. "North Wind," she says softly. "There is flame here, but there is also someone of your blood." The wind seems to pick up at the sound of her voice; there is a wintry chill in the air. Chloe holds out her scarred arm, and a brief swirl of snow surrounds it, starlight and firelight alike glittering on the crystals of ice. "Come gentle," the girl says, "and don't put out the fire."
The wind heightens, swirling up from her hand in a spray of snowflakes, the sight gone in an instant. Then it comes closer to the fire, running chill fingers through the cub's hair, a rush of winter-storm air around him. *Brother-to-wind. Strong.* The spirit's language comes as a sound of whistling gale and driving blizzard, a shiver of freezing ice along the spine, translated somehow in the mind of the hearer.
Chloe laughs, delight in the sound, even as the wind's outer tendrils tangle her hair.
Sepdet closes her eyes and leans back, forcing herself not to flinch from the kiss of snow, knowing from experience that the North Wind pounces on weakness and plays with it like a cat. She greets the spirit respectfully, but without affection, baring her throat to it.
Squall shivers, huddled up in his jacket, both eyes wide as he watches the storm. "How..? I mean, what.. You're.." He glances from Sepdet, to Chloe, and back to the whirling snow. His face veritably beams as a grin threatens to strain his facial muscles.
Sepdet's fingers dig into her knees hard enough to bruise, not sharing the call of a kindred spirit which the cub seems to feel. "Human theurge," she tells the boy through taut lips. "Spirit-walker." The Strider growls instinctively at the spirit, Wolverine's influence surely drawing the ragged sound from low in her throat.
A stinging gust of snowflakes crosses the cub's face. *WENDIGO,* the wind howls. *WE ARE WENDIGO. WE ARE THE WINTER STORM THAT KILLS. WE ARE CLAWS-OF-ICE.* Abruptly, the fire drops to a mere smoldering, smothered dim glow.
Chloe murmurs, "North wind. You are the cleansing rage. You are the strength of the glacier, the killing storm." She stands straight, and despite that icy wind she does not shiver.
Squall shakes his head, still grinning like an idiot despite the stinging and numbing cold. He talks quickly, trying to minimize teeth chatter. "I didn't even know that was possible... But, it's amazing. This.." He shakes his head once, not wanting to offend. Instead he addresses the spirit itself. "You're the spirit of the North Wind. Then we are both Wendigo, as you said. I am glad to have met you." Not quite knowing what else to do, he bows his head in greeting to it. "I had heard of you, from a fellow Wendigo. Though I did not know at the time spirits truly existed in such a way." He grins more, teeth still chattering.
You paged Chloe with 'Squall's main problem is that he'd shake hands with a nexus crawler and offer it candy.'.
From afar, Chloe dies laughing.
Sepdet bursts out with a bark of helpless laughter. "Don't you dare say please and thank you, pup. It'll rip your head off!"
Squall's eyes go wide. "Um...oops?" He turns to the North Wind. "I'm sorry.." He remembers what Sepdet said. "I mean, no I'm not...I think." He bites his lower lip, wincing a little. His head's getting ripped off, he's just sure of it now...
You paged Chloe with 'Sepdet warned Joseph that Squall reminded her of herself as a cub. I don't think Joe realizes that means "Naive as a soap bubble."'.
The wind rips through the Strider, for just a moment, in what seems almost like savage laughter. A freezing gust buffets Squall with the force of a playful blow--from a polar bear. Then it swirls around Chloe, lifting and tangling the dark hair. *Strong child,* the thunder rumbles, with a hint of satisfaction. *Innocent. But he will not always be so. When the blood tide comes and the storm strikes.* A final shudder, and the Wendigo spirit becomes a small tornado, decreasing until it seems to compress itself into the scar on her arm.
Squall feels the blow hit him, and crashes to the rockface, no longer grinning. Frozen fingers rub an already sore face. He slowly rights himself again, glancing from Sepdet to Chloe. "This is one of those 'the cub has to learn through trial and error' moments isn't it?"
Squall winces, touching the area of his face that would likely turn remarkable shades of purple and blue tomorrow. "Next time I meet him, should I tell him to get bent, and get me a coke or something?"
Sepdet massages a white tooth-shaped scar on the side of her neck ruefully as the wind spins back to stillness, half defeaned for a moment by the buffetting wind. Getting her breath back, she nods serenely to the poor boy. "There will be more," she advises tiredly. "It says you are innocent, but it forgives you, which is a good sign. Wendigo's got teeth. Remember that. -That- is what's inside you, to give you strength for your road."
Sepdet snorts at the suggestion, although she can't quite work out what he means. Some Collin-babble, no doubt. "Just think of two huge wolves facing off with each other, and show it you can take whatever it dishes out. Wendigo wants his children tough. Soulcatcher's boot camp this winter should help you there."
Squall shakes his head, eyes wide, then immediately regrets the sharp head movement as his hands go to his pounding skull. "/That/ is inside me? Jesus...could explain my attitude."
Chloe laughs a little. "It's a good totem, Wendigo. Makes you tough." Her gaze slides to Sepdet. "Merciless."
Squall says "Why does everything in garou life turn into a pissing contest? I mean, seriously. Moots? Pissing contest. Meeting a spirit? Pissing contest. Fianna? Well they're nothing but a big pissing contest, considering they seem drunk so often."
Squall he means it jokingly of course, realizing the garou have no intention of uprooting their traditions and conforming overnight. He sighs a little, rubbing a cheek still red from the Wendigo's thwap.
Sepdet growls at Chloe. "I'm getting a little tired of that word," she mutters at the mage, proving the cub's rant right. Then she gives Squall a wry look.
"Because living this life is about strength. Usually raw physical strength." There's something savage in the woman's voice. "You're warriors, not lawyers. Everything is dominance, for the wolf. Everything is a violent contest." She begins trying to work her fingers through her tangled hair. "Get used to it," she says with a hint of dryness.
Squall says "I survived highschool. Of /course/ I'm used to pissing contests. Just wish things were a little less 'Grrr, rarr, claw claw, bite, I'm better than you! Grrr'" He adds facial expressions and hand gestures in with the mocking, altogether a rather comical display, though some garou might be tempted to cull him on the spot for it."
Sepdet says helplessly at Chloe, "What are we going to do with him? Good thing he's not -my- cub. I think Joseph can bang him into shape before someone else flattens him."
Squall's brows quirk down towards his nose as he seems to suddenly think of something, a faint smile showing his amusement. "Though I guess when you're a furry tower of piss and vinegar, not to mention huge teeth and claws, things aren't exactly easily solved by Rock Paper Scissors."
Sepdet passes a hand over her eyes.
Chloe merely watches him, her eyes narrowed slightly. Measuring.
Squall grumbles quietly at Sepdet. "I'm a cub, aren't I allowed to be irritatingly unknowledgeable, and assume my way is the right way, and thousands of years of tradition and culture should be thrown away on a whim?" It's obvious he's just ranting for the sake of amusement now. There's some sincerity in the idea of wishing things were a little more..peaceful, but he's waking up to the fact that as a Garou, nothing is ever peaceful.
Squall grins suddenly. "Although I think I'd rather have it this way. Can you imagine the entire sept booking a day or two at Disneyland? Jesus, it'd be a slaughterhouse... 'Three hours for Magic Mountain? That's it.'" He shakes as if changing, then makes growling noises. "Then there goes the Veil."
Sepdet exhales. "Squall, you know, there is this thing I do with some no-moon cubs. I take a rock. And I put it in their mouth. And they suck on it for a long time, and contemplate the wisdom of Gaia."
Chloe covers her mouth with a hand, not quite stifling a laugh. "He talks too much for his own good," she observes, dark eyes flashing to the Strider in amusement.
Squall's voice takes on a somewhat panicked pleading tone. "My teeth are fragile. Sure I need the rock? I can contemplate the wisdom of Gaia just fine without licking dirt off a rock. Honest."
Squall says "I'm a Ragabash, no such thing as talking too much. It's when I'm quiet you two should be worrying."
Chloe hmphs quietly. "Why should we worry? *We're* not the ones who'd have to discipline you. We're not responsible for your behavior."
Sepdet says grimly, "He needs to stop reminding me of Collin," and falls silent.
Squall nods. "Yup, I'm responsible for my behavior. Just saying when a Ragabash opens his or her mouth, at least you know what they're thinking, even if it is sideways and absurd. It's when they keep their thoughts to themselves, that could cause worrying for others. Chances are the Ragabash is biting their tongue, and waiting for something to happen so they can laugh their tail off."
Sepdet's lighthearted manner has fizzled somewhere in the middle of all this, and she reaches forward with a lurch to prod at the fire, not particularly careful where she's placing her hands.
Chloe catches the Strider's wrist. "Let me," she murmurs, turning to crouch by the fire, taking up a stick and poking at the log until it settles and burns again.
Squall glances from the two suddenly silent women, to the fire, wondering if this is the point where he apologizes for being annoying.
Sepdet's hand jerks back from the woman's touch, then she sighs and scoots over to lean against Chloe while she fixes things. "One other thing, Squall," she says in a low voice. "Some of the Garou do not like Chloe at all. Including Little Bear, I suspect. He has to eat his teeth and suffer, because Joseph and I know better, and we're his elders. But you should probably not go around spreading her name to just anyone."
"I need to speak to that one," Chloe murmurs. "Little Bear." Her eyes are on the fire.
Squall tilts his head, looking back and forth between them. "Why wouldn't they like her? Because she is a Theurge, but not garou?"
Squall says, "Don't worry though, mum's the word from me. Word of a Ragabash." He thinks that over for a couple seconds. "Alright, bad idea. Word of a Wendigo."
Sepdet nods. "Do. But be careful. He is very protective of Joseph, and Robin." She looks across the fire at Squall. "Do you trust a human who has powers beyond a Garou's greatest gifts? One who could pluck a thought from your mind, or step into your caern and suck the power dry from it? Who can take wolf's shape, or raven's, or bring the spirits down upon you?"
Squall says "/A/ human? No. Chloe however? Yes. She was kinfolk to the Wendigo, and she's on affable terms with the North Wind spirit. That speaks highly of her to me, as it should to Little Bear."
Sepdet smiles a little. "Yes. But then, you trust too easily. I shall mourn the day that changes, Ember-cub."
Squall nods slightly. "So will I. But while I'm young and naive, I might as well do my part and act it."
Sepdet's eyes betray a hint of worry, but she doesn't debate the point. Perhaps that catch in her smile is only envy, after all.
Chloe frowns at the boy. "You trust far too easily," she mutters. "Don't die of it."
Sepdet reaches up and touches the human's cheek with two fingers. "Heya, if Hope-star survived her cub-days, he can too." Her expression eases, old memories soothing over the sting of recent scars. "Even if you did have to put me back together sometimes, and still do."
Squall glances at both of them. "Sheesh, pessimists galore. I may trust too easily, but at least I don't wall myself up and get paranoid. I'm going to screw up, I'm going to be betrayed by some of those I trust. That's a given. But everyone has that happen. Everyone. So, no big deal. I bitch for awhile after it happens, then I move on. And I do my best not to get killed because of it.
Chloe echoes the gesture, thought her momentary smile falls away. "Do you know anything more about the Dancers?" she asks. "Brian mentioned them to me, last night..."
Squall shudders at the name, clenching his jaw.
Sepdet rubs the back of her neck with a sigh. "Our glorious Wolverine packs have taken too long arranging things...in truth, taking precautions... and the Dancers have gone into hiding somewhere else. They've left the lake. They--" she breaks off, a sudden snap of tears coming into her eyes that she has to blink back. "--Thorn's cave, it's awful. Joseph and I slipped down there tonight, to scout, before our hunt. No sign of the Dancers now. Just their filthy scrawls, and a few nasty spirits we'll be taking down. Hopefully we can rip the names of the Dancers out of one of them."
From afar, to the room, Chloe beams. Oh, dear.
Chloe's chin lifts slightly. "Tomorrow." Her attention sharpens. "Without the moon?"
Sepdet sighs. "Yes." She's obviously, obviously annoyed by this, and flexes her hands. "We can do it, but it's going to make the job harder. But wait. -Please- don't come. The best thing you could do is track the Dancers. I don't want my Wolverine-pack turning on you instead, for lack of good prey."
Squall grimaces at the talk of hunting plans. In some ways, he wanted to be there... But mostly he was glad not to be within a mile of a Dancer. After those dreams he'd had, that was as close as he wanted to get until he was ready.
You paged Chloe with 'Why do I have the sudden bad feeling Steven's going to try and murder Chloe, and then Sepdet's going to attack him, and this whole messy pack is going to explode in little gobbets of fur and blood? :)'.
Chloe takes a careful breath, and nods. "There'll be time, later, to return the island to Gaia." Her brow furrows and she lowers her eyes to the ground, ducking her head slightly. "Brian... I need to talk to him about it. I'm... working on something that may help me find them."
Sepdet nods, relief showing in her eyes. "When Wolverine's yoke is off me, I'd love to go back to healing. Together." She clasps the woman's shoulder fervently. "Talk to Brian. It's not right for me to involve you... and I confess my own cowardice is part of my fear. I don't want my packmates snapping at me for bringing a 'Warper' along. But I know we'd be better off with you."
Squall rises slowly, stretching his cold and stiff legs. He glances around a little, searching for something in the shadows. "I think I'm going to go get some sleep." He glances once to Sepdet. "Before I have any reoccuring dreams, if you know what I mean..."
Chloe glances to the cub, black eyes sharp in the dark. "Sleep well."
Squall looks to Chloe, almost laughing. Almost. "Yeah, I wish."
Sepdet winces. "Dream well, Ember," she murmurs, the simple blessing carrying more vehemence than usual. "That's an order."
Squall shakes his head slightly and turns, heading to the cave. He waves over his shoulder. "G'night you two. And I'll see what I can do Sepdet. Who knows? Maybe this time it'll be about my mother." His tone is obvious, not finding it necessary to say the left out words of 'and the Dancers'. With that, he disappears into the cave to lie away staring at the ceiling for another night, fighting off sleep. He'd lied to Sepdet. He hadn't slept in two days, only fitfully during the day when he could no longer bare it. He was doing his best not to even get /close/ to dreaming again. Not for awhile.
Squall slips past the brush and scrub to enter the cave.
Squall has left.
Sepdet hisses between her teeth at the parting words and hunches down by the fire. "I should rest as well," she observes flatly. "Be strong for the hunt tomorrow night."
Chloe's attention follows the cub, and her frown deepens--as if she sees something she doesn't like. She murmurs something in that Slavic tongue of hers, an absent prayer, perhaps.
Sepdet's smile returns, a little frayed. "He'll make it," she tells the woman softly. "Little Bear will give him edges. Joseph, too. He's not as gentle as he used to be."
A flicker of pain crosses Chloe's face, and she looks down to the Strider again. "Is he still a stranger?"
Sepdet smiles thinly. "A little," she says wistfully. "But I'm not angry at him anymore for that. Joseph's there inside. And he's remembered you now. The important things, anyway."
A faint, hopeful smile comes to Chloe's face. "That's good," she answers quietly. "I'm glad."
Sepdet holds out a hand. "Come and see him soon. He needs to remember. It hurts, him not remembering things." She lowers her voice. "For both of us. But you can pull it back out of him, and see the light come back into his eyes. It's just taking time."
Chloe nods, setting a hand in the Strider's and holding it briefly. "I will," she answers. Then she sighs, and bows her head. "It's late. I need to be going."
Sepdet bows her head over Chloe's hand to lick her fingers and then lets go. "Walk careful, Heq't," she murmurs. "And thanks again."
"Always," Chloe says softly. She leans over to touch a chaste kiss to the Strider's cheek--and then slides both arms around the girl, holding her for a long moment.
Sepdet melts into that and returns the embrace warmly, huddling against the cold. She rests her cheek against the human's shoulder briefly, lips smiling against her skin. "Shoo," she whispers then. "Let a poor Garou sleep, you witch."
"The Mother watch over you," Chloe whispers back. She draws away, and without a glance she turns and walks down the trail.
Sepdet, as usual, watches til the last hint of her scent is gone, rolling over onto her side and propping her chin on her hand with a strained quiet smile.
Chloe pages: Aw.Night.