Sepdet considers for a long moment, brow tightly furrowed, dark eyes meeting golden ones. Then she says very casually, like a cat licking her own shoulder, *Come here.* There is firm conviction behind the words, but no aggression.
Soulcatcher pages: You want me to play the cat, or shall I let you determine how quickly you get the gist of this? :)
You paged Soulcatcher with 'You play the cat.'
The cat's golden eyes blink slowly, fixed on the Strider like it would on prey. The staring match holds for a moment, and the muscles of the bobcat's spirit-shoulders twitch once. As if to explain this, her tail lashes once playfully, but otherwise, she makes no move, the golden eyes blinking slowly once more.
Sepdet faces the cat without blinking, and repeats again, more firmly, but still throwing confidence into her voice, *Come down here.* She draws herself to what height she has, exuding an aura of conviction.
You paged Soulcatcher with 'Ic note--conviction does not equal force. Sepdet still has to learn force. :)'.
From afar, Soulcatcher nods.
Long distance to Soulcatcher: Sepdet . o O (As this occurs to her player.)
From afar, Soulcatcher figures this is going to take the full two weeks and maybe more. :)
Long distance to Soulcatcher: Sepdet laughs. Yeah.
Soulcatcher watches the cat closely, his ears turning curiously as he looks for any grudging weakness in the spirit's stance. None seem apparent, and the cat remains seated high on the stone, looking, if anything, much more comfortable than it did last time. The tail twitches once more, coyly.
Sepdet's fists bind themselves together. She goes silent for a long moment, breathing in and out with wind's calm, considering the nuances of her words, and what Soulcatcher has told her. Finally, with a trace of reluctance and a faint, faint hint of anger, she repeats the command again, taking an unconscious step towards the cat in challenge.
The bobcat's eyes narrow, and the spirit's face loses its faint, almost mocking mirth. Replacing it is something a little more dangerous, emphasized by a low growl from the spirit's throat. This time when the cat's tail lashes out, it's in aggitation.
Sepdet seizes the opening and throws herself into her words again, with more conviction, less anger. *Come _here_. I am telling you this.* Again, if surety could be minted, this would be pure silver, but will is easier for her than bending.
The bobcat bares its teeth, again in an almost mocking display, and it shows no sign of moving from its perch. The Wendigo, seeing this, chuffs to his packmate. You have always respect those of true spirit. But this is not a gift of respect. Those you will end up using it on will not care what you wish, or what you desire. And they will not come out of respect for /you/. For this, you must take, not ask. It is a fight, as much as with tooth and claw. Take him.
Sepdet looks rueful, as Joseph points out to her the Strider's own charming brand of egotism. ~Right. It's like Ash. She just doesn't _give_ a damn.~ She tries again, focussing herself in silence for several more breaths before she all but barks, channelling some of the anger and aggression she keeps from certain others she _would_ like to strike: *Come here NOW.*
Long distance to Dylan: Sepdet giggles. Sep's trying to learn command. She stupidly picked a cat-spirit, figuring if she could command a cat, she could probably comamnd a bane. She was getting nowhere til she pretended it was Blinks she was trying to kick in the butt. ;)
From afar, Dylan laughs!!!.
For the first time, the cat seems to sense some..pull. A force it had not, til now, felt. An urge. The hackles on the shimmering back of the golden cat rise slightly, and in its golden gaze there is a little concern. another low growl is emitted through a show of fangs.
Sepdet recalls the helpless times, the hard times, watching Bloodfang fall to a Bane she could not budge, and Thorn, coming late, and moving it with the sound of his voice. She remembers Darkness-Falling-Soul-Stealer lunging for Toxic, and the burned and blackened body of her old alpha when it was over. She remembers the wyldling hurtling itself to engulf Magpie, and her own silence, knowing all her fine words would reach it no more than water touching stone. Something more than conviction is needed, and these memories, perhaps, are what tinge her voice as she lashes out again, voice suddenly taut as a whip, cold, like sand driven into rock by the force of a tornado's shearing. *Come _here_.*
The cat is on its feet in a flash, though it does not make for Sepdet, or appear to be obeying the command. It feels the pull though, stronger, that much is clear in its glittering eyes. It spits a snarling answer back, sounding much like its larger cousin that once graced this caern with its favor. A paw strikes at the air in the direction of the Strider, the spirit's ears lying back. *I will not! You want me, you will have to climb up stone and pull my ears. But be careful little one. I bite.*
Sepdet starts slightly at the swipe, eyes narrowing. *I know* she mutters under her breath. But she refoccusses immediately, clawing the air with her own hand in a mimic of the cat's strike, focussing on the nape of the compact little predator's neck as if meaning to seize on it and bodily _carry_ it across the Wheel. Her hand gives a shake. *Come!*
Startled, The cat appears to slip off the stone ledge. Either it lost its footing, or it actually did take an involuntary step forward at Sepdet's bidding. either way it tumbles down the front of the pillar, only its normal feline graces helping it to land on all fours. Bewilderment sits in his eyes for a moment, and then true rage comes to the fore, its eyes burning yellow as it spits another feline-scream at Sepdet. A moment later, it's gone, disappearing out of the caern quickly, like any cat that discovers it's been outmaneuvered. Looking up, the Wendigo wags his tail a little. A good start. A very good start. The difficulty will grow though. Especially with spirits not of the Wyld. They don't think like we do.
Sepdet looks a bit shaken. ~I will find and leave it another rabbit tomorrow,~ she says ruefully, nodding. ~And yes, they do not think as we. At least we are wind...and think less between certain walls than other Garou.~ She winks, but still doesn't seem entirely certain of the first lesson, or of her performance.
Soulcatcher seems to see witin his packmate this uncertainty. He nosebumps the Strider quietly, a show of reassurance. You did well. Come. Run with me? I need to stretch my legs.
Sepdet smiles and reaches down to rustle his fur. ~All right.~ She drops down to four paws with him, and runs gladly.
Soulcatcher makes his approach known before closing with the Striders, ears alert. Closing, he chuffs a greeting.
Sepdet blinks at the no-moon's usual odd sense of humor, then glances up from where she's seated by Alexandra as the Wendigo arrives. "Sen-n-ka'i." She smiles, jiggling a small pouch in her hand that clicks like beads. ~More talen-vessels. Collin and Alexandra are collecting for me.~
Collin wiggles his fingers at Soulcatcher, "Yo."
Alexandra smiles and waves at Soulcatcher.
Alexandra says "If you want them polished, I do have a polisher in the motor home...just never got around to learning how to use it."
Sepdet shakes her head. ~I'll work on them by hands, in the umbra. That way the spirits can watch while I make them just so.~ She shakes one large rough moonstone onto a cupped palm, holding it out for the other theurge to inspect.
Soulcatcher pads over to his packmate, circling and sniffing at the pouch before he settles to the ground. Excellent. Have you been practicing, too?
Alexandra smiles and nods.
Sepdet nods ruefully. ~Some. I have been trying easier things than Cats, though: Jay, and squirrel, and a snow-drift cousin of yours. I still need more.~
Soulcatcher's ears twitch. Hm. I see. We could perhaps go try something now. Unless you are busy. I did not mean to interrupt.
Sepdet looks over at Alexandra and Collin, drops the stone back into her back, and stands up, leaning back a little in a stretch. ~I think we're just talking,~ she guesses, smiling at her tribesmates. ~Though they could come watch--_if_ we're staying in the caern?~
Alexandra nods, with a smile.
Soulcatcher looks between the other Striders for a moment, and says, I had thought to take a different approach to the lessons.
Sepdet cocks her head, a patient smile playing about her lips. ~Which you will tell me?~
Soulcatcher lets his tongue loll momentarily. Better to show. But it can wait. We can practice within the bawn tonight.
Collin grins, "Sure. I'd love to watch."
Derrick enters from the forest.
Derrick has arrived.
Sepdet glances over at Collin, warns, ~It may just be me growling a lot at a spirit, but you've been warnd.~ Then she paces over to her packmate, resting her palm on the back of his shoulders lightly. ~Lead on.~
Soulcatcher stands next to Sepdet, the other Striders sitting together not far off. The Wendigo gives a chuff, and turns to the pool to step sideways and lead the others across to watch some lessons.
Derrick comes snuffling about on patrol, and flickers an ear. Mind if I come along?
Collin falls in behind Soulcatcher and Sepdet, following right along. He glances at Derrick, then waves at him a bit, "Hey, man."
Umbra: Center of the Caern
Obvious exits:
South North West
Dropped.
Collin has arrived.
Falcon's Wing has arrived.
Alexandra has arrived.
Soulcatcher has arrived.
+phoon
Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (5% full).
Long distance to Soulcatcher: Sepdet absently throws in a few irrelevent @emits to make people edgy. ;)
Soulcatcher leads the group through the gauntlet, and then through various strange umbral places on the bawn. Much of it is well patroled, but there are parts that seem strangely odd, even to those here that walk the paths every night. The wendigo seems as at home in these strange places as anyone, however. Finally, he stops in a dense and tangled part of the bawn.
Sepdet takes a deep breath as we slip across to the dark fog-strewn forest which is more felt and smellt than seen at this time of the month. ~Don't get separated here,~ she tells Collin softly. ~It's easy to get turned around, especially if you're not used to it.~ Other than that, she travels in silence, fingers remaining in light contact on Soulcatcher's back as she follows his lead.
Alexandra contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Alexandra shifts into Crinos form.
Sparrowhawk slips into something more comfortable for this side.
Sparrowhawk uses all her senses to keep close to the rest.
Falcon's Wing takes up the rear somewhat automatically, ghosting along, blurred and mostly silent, in the back.
Collin sticks close to the group as well, looking around briefly from time to time. He's grinning a bit.
Sepdet drops to a half-crouch, giving Soulcatcher a sidelong questioning glance before addressing her attention on the knotted and darker area.
Soulcatcher chuffs, settling his haunch to the damp ground almost like a dog. This will do I think, he states, staring at an knotted and hoary old tree whose roots sink deep into the umbral gorund, resurface, and sink again as his influence stretches for several meters. The new moon gives those here that much more to be uneasy about, the layer of inky darkness making every shadow something living to be feared. The Wendigo remains in lupus, though a twitch of his ears tells he is pleased to see the others shift. He lifts his voice in a soft greeting to the tree, and the old one seems to move, or purhaps that was just the shadows here. *It is me, father.*
Sepdet stands stiff and straight in a sort of formal greeting to the tree, murmuring her own respects.
Sparrowhawk looks the Tree over, openly impressed.
Sepdet grins faintly at Soulcatcher then. ~You want me to bend a tree--and _such_ a tree?~ She leans back, peering up into its branches and steadying herself, gathering herself like a wolf tensing to pounce.
@EMIT In the distance, at first merely an imperceptible uneasy feeling, finally identified as a slow, regular sort of ground-tremor, a dim bone-aching booming sound tickles the edge of hearing. It sounds more like the ponderous groans of some huge underwater creature or the dull creaking heartbeat of a glacier than anything living on land.
Collin glances at Sparrowhawl, then up at the tree, "Whoa." he mutters. That's about it, too. For a change, Collin is actually pretty quiet. Amazing.
A sound inexplicable comes to the finely tuned ears of the garou, a twisted popping of moving wood, like the rush of thunder without the echoes. The shadows do indeed move, living things, a root here and a branch there, extended as if the tree were going to grab its visiters in a snare of tangled vines, or, perhaps, just greet them. The voice of the great tree is as strange and knotted as his wood, and yet his song is as old and mysterious as life. *Oh, you. Yes. I remember. You have a leaf to color. This leaf?*
Sepdet's face softens at the question, although of course in such shadows it is hard to see that the question has touched her. She waits for Soulcatcher to answer, though.
Falcon's Wing, still primarily skulking, pauses at this sound.
Sparrowhawk cocks her head and looks at the tree, silently regarding it....
You paged Soulcatcher with 'Assuming I am translating the Tree correctly, that it's asking Joe if he's teaching someone. ;)'.
Soulcatcher seems pleased. The odd noises heard around them don't seem to bother the Wendigo, though they clearly should. He remains seated, looking up into the shadows of the grand tree. *Yes. She is.* He says nothing else, and the rush of pulled and groaning wood comes again as the great tree drops a lythe branch down to wrap around Sepdet's wrist, quickly and easily pulling the little Strider off her feet to hang several feet in the air. The wood stiffens around her wrist, unyielding.
Collin leans forward, peering at the tree. His eyes are a little wide and he runs one hand through his hair, clearing bangs away from his eyes.
Sepdet gives a little suppressed >yipe< of surprise and protest as she's lifted off the ground by one thin joint, and dangles, feet pawing at the light wind. Her eyes go very wide, but it doesn't take her more than a few seconds to figure out what's happening, and after a short growl that promises future vengeance on her packmate (as if this were all his fault) she stops kicking and attempts to concentrate. She gives a low, firm growl, which the Striders will recognize as the last one she used on Blinks before striking him, even if the spirit's tongue is lost on them. *Let go. _Now.*
Collin certainly doesn't look like he can understand a word that's being said in the spirit's tongue. His face scrunches up in a bit of confusion and worry. He shifts his weight to his other foot.
Falcon's Wing takes a pace forward, bristling slightly.
Sparrowhawk recognizes the tone of voice and leans on her staff, trusting Sepdet to have it under control.
Soulcatcher's tail wags ever so slightly at first, ut the bristling, restless garou behind him bring it to a stop. He growls low, shifting up enough to speak, ~Stay back, and stand down.~ The knotted wood of the tree shifts enough to pull Sepdet a little closer to the trunk, but she still dangles a good six to eight meters in the air away from it and the others. Vines tangle in her arms and lengs to keep her from swinging, and the strange and ancient voice of the spirit intones, *You let go.*
Falcon's Wing still bristles, but he does stop moving forward. Grudgingly.
Collin mutters, "I feel like I'm trapped in Pocohantas-Land."
Sparrowhawk shifts to a more comfortable position, and watches, trusting the teacher and student to know what they're doing.
Sepdet tries to listen to the tree's tone and ignore the constriction of wrist and feet--no. She shuts her eyes, channelling some of the same force of squeezing into her voice, or as near as she can, as if she could fight against the tree's strength with words alone. *Unbend. Loosen. Release.*
Long distance to Soulcatcher: Sepdet is trying to draw on the 'feeling' of constriction and channel it right back through her voice, bending in the opposite direction.
Soulcatcher pages: Very good. Hrm.
Sepdet loses concentration for a moment, struggling a little against the vines like a dog trying to scrabble out of a sleeping bag, which of course only enmeshes her a bit more. Then she goes limp again, head sagging, hanging up there like a puppet that's been put away.
Soulcatcher senses "Sepdet draws into herself like a fist clenching up, trying to muster herself."
@EMIT In the distance, the low, bruiselike throbbing continues, beating against the air.
Soulcatcher watches his packmate very carefully, the distant noises perhaps going unheard. His ears turn very slowly as he waits to see Sepdet's next move. The tree's eerie voice comes once again, though wether he speaks to Sepdet or himself or someone else is uncertain. *Something is missing.* The knotted wood turns on itself, spinning Sepdet around to face into the shadows.
Sepdet swings until the vines steady her again, still just hanging there. Finally her shoulders suddenly heave with the force of her bellow as she throws herself again into her voice with the remembered force of splitting earth and sundered stone. *Let _go_!*
Collin looks clueless as to what's going on. That's probably because he is.
Falcon's Wing winces at the tone of voice, and backs up to go scout. Probably.
The wood splinters as if cut by an axe, or so it sounds to the garou. Sepdet drops like a stone to the muddy soil beneath the great tree's canopy, landing between the moving roots. The rush of unechoed thunder comes again, as the spirit's branches and vines retreat. *Good. The leaf's color deepens.*
Sepdet catches herself badly and rolls over onto her side, panting hard. Her teeth are bared in a faintly triumphant grin, though, as she pushes herself off the forest floor with a faint groan and shoots Soulcatcher another glance, only questioning this time.
Soulcatcher seems overly pleased, his muzzle turning up to the great tree with respect, and gratitude. *I'm in your debt, Father.* After a small silence, the ancient voice speaks from the darkening shadows, *There is yet another shade.* The Wendigo lifts his muzzle to meet his packmate's gaze, his amber eyes gleaming in the eerie, non-existant light. *I know.* he answers, and then pads up under the tree to nose Sepdet, and help her up. ~You alright?~
Sepdet makes a face but nods wryly at Soulcatcher, after poking gingerly at one knee. She wraps an arm over the wolf's neck and sits upright, then glances back up at the torn vines and branches overhead, still panting for air as she stammers out thanks to the spirit. *Water to your roots, Old One. You all right?*
Long distance to Collin, Soulcatcher, Sparrowhawk, and Falcon's Wing: Sepdet absently thanks Ambassador Kosh, apparently thinking to camouflage himself as a tree, but I'd know that 'rush of unechoed thunder' noise anywhere. ;)
Collin pages to Soulcatcher, Sparrowhawk, Sepdet, and Falcon's Wing: It's actually a toilet flushing. :)
From afar, to Soulcatcher, Sparrowhawk, Sepdet, and Falcon's Wing, Collin knows a friend who saw someone go to a Convention dressed as 'Ambassador Flosh of the Toilons'.
Collin sniffs once or twice, then glances at Alexandra and Falcon's Wing, then back towards the two conversing with the Spirit. He rubs the back of his neck an amused look on his face.
The only response is a rustle of dark leaves in the uneasy blackness, but you'd almost swear the whispered rustle was a word. Yes. It is clear though that the tree now sleeps, or is busy with something else. Soulcatcher lets Sepdet use him to lean on in getting up and immediately turns back.
Sepdet gets shakily to her feet and smiles belatedly at the others, still a little shaky. ~Um. I don't know what that taught you, but _I_ sure think that was enough of a workout for one night.~ She pats Soulcatcher's shoulder, gives one of his ears a tug, and then starts off with him to retrace their steps to the pool.
Falcon's Wing thinks it taught me that I need to learn the speech of the spirits. Perhaps Coyote will teach me.
Sparrowhawk scans the area with eyes and ears.
Only now, when the lesson is done, and the group ventures out past the realm of the ancient tree, does Soulcatcher give pause, or turn an eye and an ear toward the strange noises. He remains intensely alert all the way back.
Sepdet mutters, ~Another shade,~ under her breath, still too preoccupied mulling over tonight's lesson to be paying total attention to her surroundings.
@EMIT With a breathy sigh like an expiring tire, the far-away thunder gives way to a whooosh and then stops, leaving only the usual odd creaks, chirps, scritches, and hums of the umbral night.
Joseph enters the ground level of the barn through one of the doors.
Joseph has arrived.
Sepdet smiles at the others. ~And it's time for me to get out-of-walls,~ she states. ~The night is young, for the wolf-born. And their children.~
Rusty nods to Sepdet, grinning. "Sure, rhya. Glad t' see ya."
Alexandra smiles. "Don't let us slowpoke 2-legs stop you, Teacher."
Joseph lets the door fall back to its place, but doesn't venture too far inside.
Alexandra nods respectfully to Joseph...at least...that looks vaguely like Joseph, through half-closed eyes.
Sepdet turns towards the door, walks over towards Joseph, and holds out her hands palms-up to him. ~Out of walls?~ she asks hopefully.
Joseph's smile is enigmatic, and not very reassuring, but he nods.
Joseph nods to the others, without speaking a greeting, and turns back out of the barn.
Sepdet ducks her eyes at Joseph, catching his mood, but not reflecting it. ~All right, fine, so it is moon-dark, and you're about to lead me through hell. I suppose it's my turn to follow you there.~ With that, she heads towards the door at his side.
[We hike to some random GM room]
From afar, to Arlen and Sepdet, Joseph grins. Ok, lemme set the scene.
Sepdet treks along beside Joseph in silence, feet squashing a little in the muddy ground as she sniffs for the first scents of spring.
Lightseeker, who'd run into the two packmates on the way to the Caern, follows behind, tail twitching in breeze.
Joseph changes to the four legs as soon as they're safely into the woods. He leads the other two garou silently through the forest, back to the Wendigo's own territory. The trip takes a fair amount of time, and it only a couple hours before dawn by the tie they sit down there. With a small fire going, Joseph begins a ritual.
Lightseeker whurfs. Watch, or participate?
Sepdet settles down in a wary crouch, watching. Her eyes come up at the whuff, but she doesn't reply, dark gaze darting to Joseph questioningly.
Joseph invites Lightseeker to participate, if she wishes, though he suggests she take the two leg. A place is made for her at the fire, a cup set before her, like the ones set before the Strider and Wendigo already. The Wendigo then takes a bowl, and as he begins to chant in a familiar staccato voice, he pours a dark liquid from it into the three cups.
Lightseeker shifts seamlessly into homid, looking curiously at the liquid.
Sepdet tries not to hum a counterpoint until she's quite sure what he's doing, and instead watches his face trustingly, hands open and cupped upwards on her knees as she waits.
Joseph's chant is not in English, but it's obviously more than just mere sounds. There a sense of meaning behind the song, and a dark uneasy notion brings the hairs on the back of the neck up. The Wendigo continues the chant without pauses, his eyes closed. In this manner, he takes three small seeds from a pouch beside where the bowl was sitting, and drops one in each cup. The cups are then handed one at a time back to the garou.
Arlen settles easily from a crouch into a crosslegged sitting position, taking the cup solemnly as she does so. She waits to drink, watching the Wendigo.
Joseph's chant stops, and his eyes open. He looks from Fury to Strider, and then lifts his cup, motioning to the others to drink as well.
Sepdet takes her bowl carefully, meeting his eyes for a moment longer before dropping her gaze and guard to lift her cup like a bowl and lap it up.
Joseph then closes his eyes again, and begins to chant, a different song now. It seems less a song than a wordless chant this time, though it's hard to tell really. It continues, monotonously, on and on, almost as if the Wendigo had left a record repeat.
Arlen lifts it, raising it slightly higher than her mouth, pausing for a moment, and then drinking.
Sepdet drains her cup to the bottom, then takes the seed in her teeth and chews on it, eyes drifting to half-mast as she listens in the wary edges of trance, hands opening and closing to keep herself from slipping away from alertness.
On and on, and on. Unchanging, repetative, dulling. After a time of nothing else, the others--if they were not inclined to follow the Wendigo before and close there eyes--soon find their eyes closing for them. It's not sleep that takes them, but something akin to it. The rythmic, lulling chant becomes the whole world, everything outside the fire fades out to a half-achieved thought, unimportant. Distant thunder brings the Wendigo's eyes open, suddenly. The chant forgotten. "Did you hear that?"
Sepdet jumps, having slipped totally under in spite of herself, words lost as always when she first awakens. She nods anxiously, dark eyes darting all around.
Arlen is only slightly less startled than Sepdet, nodding and glancing about in a pose of calmness repressing anxiety.
Joseph is on his feet in an instant, and even as he gets there, another clap of thunder is heard--ominously closer this time. The Wendigo's eyes turn to the sky, but for now the stars are clear above them in the moonless sky. There's a tautness, a tension, in Joseph's manner as he gathers his bundle, and turns toward where this strange thunder comes. It happens to be further north east, into the mountains.
Sepdet hops up too, judging her packmate's reactions uneasily. She darts another look at him--didn't he expect, or plan this? But she doesn't ask the question, having almost fallen into cub-mode for the purposes of teaching, and training, facing the threat as real, not staged. She starts to follow him that way when he moves.
Arlen rises to her feet slowly, staring towards the northeast warily.
The chase leads the Wendigo down off the bluff and back to the valley. From there, they enter a deeper woods, thick and not often run by the garou around these parts. Every few steps the thunder comes again, louder, and closer, and more ominous--until the hairs once again stand up on the backs of the collective garou necks. Joseph seems almost in a panic, each clap of thunder darkening the worry in his eyes. When he stops, his breath comes a little quicker, and he half-sighs out. "Can you hear it? That thunder. Like Consumer of Stone, when we were in his lair. Do you see anything?" The thunder is indeed very close now, shaking the garou almost physically, when suddenly it appears, a black shape bursting through the tree line, their mangled trunks pushed out of the way. Numerous legs and arms--a dozen all together--each with dozens of joints so that appendage move every which direction. It stands as tall as the trees, sometimes taller, with eyes that burn blood red, and that clapping roar comes from a gaping mouth, black and empty of all hope.
Arlen quietly takes her bow off her back and strings it, the movements swift and efficient, a snarl growing on her face.
Sepdet rears back and shifts up, giving a warning-howl on the whipping winds as she hesitates--flee or die, ever a question for one of coyote's former children--then braces at Joseph's side, although utterly at a loss for a second at its sheer size. The near-cub that leapt blindly on top of Darkness Falling Soul Stealer is not helped much by the common sense of experience.
+shift crinos
You paged Joseph with 'Bastard. :)'.
Sepdet contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Crinos form.
The Wendigo wastes no time, not even waiting for the other two. An ear piercing battle cry erupts from him as he blurs up into the fighting form, his spear opening to its full ice-made length and turning over in his hand. A cutting wind follows his cry and bends the trees on one side of the giant black monster. ITs awful roar comes again as it crouches like a bug nestling for protection. Soulcatcher leaps forward then, spear in hand, and one of those many jointed arms plucks him swiftly from the ground.
From afar, Joseph is not!
From afar, Joseph grins?
You paged Joseph with 'Well, it's an effective prod. ;)'.
Arlen bares her teeth, not waiting to see if the command will work, and fires an arrow straight into the creature.
The Wendigo is clasped in a scissor-like grip of black claws, held above the gaping black void that is its mouth. Arlen's arrow sinks into the inky blackness and brings a shudder to the enormous spirit. The red eyes flicker malignantly, and turn their full attention from soulcatcher to the Fury. While the Wendigo stabs at the plated black claw that holds him, another arm is dropped to swipe at Arlen. It would seem the Strider gets ignored.
Arlen snarls at it, a rather odd noise coming from a homid throat, fires another arrow at it, quickly, and then shifts into crinos, rage speeding her shift, trying to dodge as she does so.
Sepdet doesn't stop ripping into it, or trying to, with her claws, like an enraged cat trying to disembowel a Newfoundland. However, this time she doesn't shout, just hisses each individual word like the stabbing blows of a dagger, punctuating them with each pound of a fist. *Let go. Let GO. Let him go. You have no strength to hold--let him go!*
From afar, Tim Carnie is surprised so many are up this late, Saturday or no.
Long distance to Tim Carnie: Sepdet is too, but the RP was good. And Joe's teaching me a lesson.
Long distance to Tim Carnie: Sepdet . o O (How to get gray hairs.)
Tim Carnie pages: Good on my end, too. Course, turning Silver Fang white in homid form is NOT a good thing :)
You paged Tim Carnie with 'Joe is currently about 16 feet in the air about to be devoured by a bane, and I'm chewing on its foot in near-frenzy. Ah, a good night. :)'.
Tim Carnie pages: Geez. That's the one that goes after the Wendigo spirits?
You paged Tim Carnie with 'No, another one.'.
Tim Carnie pages: Ah
You paged Tim Carnie with 'And I suspect it's actually all just a vision. Sepdet's going to KILL Joe when they wake up. He was supposed to teach her Command Spirit tonight.'.
The Fury's second arrow hits one of the jointed arms as it reaches down. An angry roar of pain thunders briefly, and the irritated spirit snaps its scissor-like claws at the dodging Fury. She eludes the first swipe, but the second time the spirit comes down, the catches an arm long enough to pull her up into the air. It doesn't hold, and the Fury falls back down, landing heavily against the ground. For a moment the spirit's attention then turns to Sepdet, burning red eyes slitted as it holds Soulcatcher again to its mouth. A moment later, the Wendigo disappears within the inky utter-nothing.
Sepdet drops back a pace, sensing rather than seeing her soul-brother gone. She jerks her head up to meet its eyes, claws falling to her sides and hands clenching. The string of words, curses, and howls falls away, and she doesn't say a thing, just glares with utter deadly hatred at it, almost daring it to take her too.
*Ooof* Arlen spends a moment staring at the creature, getting her wind back, and then leaps to her feet and just dives for the creature, claws reaching for handy vital spots.
You paged Soulcatcher with 'Is Joe's spear on the ground, or did he take it with him?'.
Long distance to Soulcatcher: Sepdet feels like Sam and Shelob, right now, and figger I might as well carry the metaphor through. ;)
Soulcatcher pages: Erm, I figured he had it with him, but if you want it, he might have dropped it. :)
The bug comes from its crouch now, looming above them while six of its legs maneuver it out of the trees and directly over them. The curling thunder comes again, only now there is a sinister, musical quality to it that is easily recognized as laughter. The blood-red eyes hover over Sepdet while the fifth arm darts forward, indulging Arlen by offering itself to her attack while another closes and snatches her up. The two arms hold the crinos Fury in the air, one across her chest, the other holding her thighs. One pull, and the Fury would be cut in half.
Sepdet's gaze darts sideways, and she pounces and seizes up Joe's fallen fetish to plant it in the ground in front of herself, bracing it with her body hunched up against it. She twists to stare upwards, without defiance or hope, numbed to any thoughts of defending caern or forest or even coming to the Fury's defense, only driven by the dogged primal instinct to fight until she herself drops. Then she barks out one word, coolly but cuttingly, with the finality of a portcullis slamming down. *Drop.*
Arlen snarls, attempting to look it in the face, reinforcing Sepdet's command, *Let go.* The 'asshole' is implicit.
From afar, Soulcatcher wonders if I've pushed her enough, if she's broken through that last barrier. what would you say?
You paged Soulcatcher with 'The last barrier is the will to _hit_, without reservation, without hesitation? IF so, yes. She almost doesn't care now. But yes. She's gone almost beyond thought, and is left with the basic raw instinct of 'Fight Wyrm', which in this case requires something beyond what her body can do.'.
Soulcatcher pages: Good, ok.
The Fury is falling before she herself finishes her command, the Strider's single word causing the two claws to open immediatly. With a flash of white light, the spirit is gone, the rush of its thunder with it, and there is only the calm night's sky, and the yellow light of the fire. Three garou sit around its warmth, back on the bluff.
Sepdet is still mentally braced for the sky to fall, and for all she knows, the fire is the blinding that comes with it. The bowl still clutched in her hands cracks as she clenches them, and she stares down numbly at the ring and crunch of pottery crumbling between her fingers, a few stray shards flying free of them.
Arlen's eyes flash open, and the bowl drops onto her thighs. She makes no sound.
Joseph's eyes open, darting around quickly, disoriented. They settle on the earthen bowl, and slowly, as he gathers his thoughts back to this reality, they come up to look at Sepdet.
Sepdet raises her eyes across the fire and makes a soft, dry sound in the back of her throat, like the last creaking whine of embers in a dying fire, finally making dazed contact with her packmate's gaze. She is still for a moment, then (predictably) hurls herself across the fire, not even bothering to go around it, throwing herself at his chest.
Arlen, reflexively, even though she's not at all in the way, flings herself out of Sepdet's line of flight, and is back up again, watching the two.
Joseph is taken by surprise, despite the fact that he should of expected this reaction. eyes wide, the Strider hits him in the chest, her glabro matching his size easily. the two are thrown back, and while he grapples to keep her at arms length, he shifts upwards to glabro as well.
Sepdet's hands dig into his forearms as she gives him a good hard shaking, rolling with him and grappling with her legs like she were still tussling in lupus. She thumps his chest with her head, hard, and then eases off, letting the pent-up energy bleed off with a few fairly sincere growls.
Joseph does nothing beyond protecting himself, and even that he doesn't do very well, figuring Sepdet has the right to hurt him a little bit. ~ow,~ escapes him when her head hits his chest, and it starts a flurry of apologies. ~I'm sorry.~
Sepdet sits up with knees fairly well buried in his stomach, and gives him a shake, once, twice, three times, thumbs pressing into his collarbones. Then she lets go and licks his face, still breathing hard and a little too shaken to speak properly. ~Thanks for the lesson.~
Arlen dusts off her clothing. "Ah, mindgames. How I miss them," she murmurs, quietly.
Joseph smiles, only ater she licks him, and then the smile turns to a grin. ~You did good,~ he says, and tries to curl an arm around her, noting how shaky she is, but wary of another attack as well, ~You got it.~
Sepdet just curls up against him, mind not thinking straight enough to remember to be careful in front of observers. ~I got it. I just hope to Gaia I don't see that every time I have to do it.~
Owling pages: Can I come visit? Just for a few minutes?
Owling has arrived.
You paged Owling with 'Okay.'.
Arlen doesn't appear to notice any impropriety. "Flashbacks. Very pleasant, that."
Sepdet finally gets her brain back to the here and now enough to give Arlen a watery grin, deciding after a brief moment that she will damn well stay where she is, curled up against Joseph in the aftermath of their wrestling match. ~Um. Thanks for helping with the lessons too, yuf. If you need to hit my packmate, I'll move.~
Arlen's eyes dance, but she says, calmly, "No, yuf, I think you have that well in hand."
A shape circles down on the brisk wind from the cloud-covered sky above; it is illuminated briefly by a sparkle of lightning. A small owl.
Joseph looks between the two of them, grins toothily again, and remains silent. Her knows better than to add more.
Joseph pages to Arlen, Sepdet, and Owling: Ack. I need to run. Sep, could you log for me?
From afar, to Arlen, Sepdet, and Owling, Joseph will be back, but long after you guys are in bed, I assume. Will talk to you both tomorrow.
Long distance to Joseph, Arlen, and Owling: Sepdet okays. <hug> Thank you so much, love. Um...fast forward a few minutes; Joseph's putting things away in his cave while we're still "recovering" out here.
Sepdet at length sits up with a faint sigh, letting Joseph breathe as she squeezes her eyes with the back of her fists. She is probably not the first one to notice.
Joseph has disconnected.
The bird lands on a rock after a few minutes of circling and twists its head to the side, studying first Arlen and then Sepdet.
Arlen looks at it intently, and then cocks her head at Sepdet. "Cousin of yours?"
Sepdet gets to her feet slowly and a bit painfully from having been on the ground so long. Then she puts her hands on her hips with a start, matching the owl's unblinking gaze. The Strider belatedly tries to pull some semblence of coherence back into her face, still wan from the ordeal, and nods to it respectfully, the nod also serving to answer the Fury's question. Curt and direct to Owl, she asks simply, *News?*
Arlen's face clears slightly, relaxing, as she listens for the Owl's answer.
The bird hops forward a few steps. *Slow to anger, slow to heal, the essence of time. They are not friendly this spring. 'Ware the wind that blows but a generation, and the message it brings to the great sleepers.* It pauses a moment, studying Sepdet. *You have not forgotten, you or your people, but one does too little, too late.*
Sepdet listens very carefully, hands moving fitfully as if shaping the words in broken signs as she listens. Her face tightens again and she gives her head a faint shake, indicating only partial understanding. *The wind that blows this year? The great sleepers?*
The bird flaps its wings, rising into the air, somehow managing to hover. Concisely, *Watch your rivers.* It does not leave, not yet, in case the tired theurge has some /more/ questions, but it's clear that it has other places to be. The wind blows steadily, tumbling more clouds in above.
Sepdet sighs, knowing she will only get more riddles, for Owl expects insight more than obedience. She only nods. *Thank you, cousin, and wind to your wings.*
Arlen says, quietly, *That which the humans call El Nino. The sleepers... I do not know.*
Owling hoots softly. *Pass the word. I will wing through again in a moon.* And it is gone, as if it had never been there, dissolved away.
Sepdet sits down again to commit the warning and words to memory, only after she's sure she's got them safely stowed beginning to ponder the meaning.
Arlen mutters. "Do so love oracles. Sleepers..."
Sepdet finally looks back up, gut answering, *The old enemy, the leeches, long slumbering like dormant maggots waiting for a new season to dig to the surface.* Then she shakes her head tiredly. *Or perhaps the people themselves. Heqet calls the humans 'sleepers', unware of the world in which they tread. I will hope it is the latter. And perhaps...perhaps I can dream. I must warn my people.*
Arlen nods, once. "Sounds like a plan. Should warn mine, as well. Meanwhile, I should get home."
Sepdet nods to Arlen quietly. ~Thanks again,~ she replies, reverting back to her own language and staring into the restless embers of Phoenix to try and refocus her mind for a night's vigil.