7/23/02

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (92% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 84 degrees
Fahrenheit (28 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from
variable directions at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.94 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 44 percent. The dewpoint is 60
degrees Fahrenheit (15 degrees Celsius.)


Center of the Caern

This area of the clearing is about 30 meters wide and is a mixture of dark
soil and clay throughout. The ground is muddied, as if supersaturated not
long ago. Near the center of the clearing, lies what remains of the large
white boulder of stone and quartz. Gravel litters the area around the once
beautiful boulder, which has been pulverized to pieces no bigger than a
softball. Bits of it have been thrown about the caern and discarded like
forgotten toys.

Around you, twenty yards in every direction, stretches the caern. To the
southeast, a waterfall plummets over the edge of the chasm into a small
pool in the caern; nearby, to the southwest, steam comes from cracks in
the ground, perhaps some of the same water. Northwest, a rocky spar juts
out of the ground at a low angle, showing a sloping but smooth top. The
chasm walls narrow a bit to the northeast, causing some of the mist to
swirl in that area.


Seeker heads over to Raeye and Sepdet, settling down next to Raeye.

Wildfire at first just tilts an ear for Fights-For-Hope, but is soon up
upon his haunches, his hackles bristling. He doesn't bother to hide his
reply. You will have your answer soon enough, he half-growls.

Ceylan gives a nod to her Elder, and then moves to stand on the outer area
of where everyone else gathers. Her head tilting upwards and glancing
about.

Salem enters the caern with Quentin in tow. The Walker's manner is brisk
and businesslike, and he keeps the cub close to him as he leads him into
the center.

Nightfire slips into the caern from the Umbra, then moves to the center.

Serendipity says, ~Aha, surprises. I will try not to gnaw my claws in
anticipation.~ She gives the elder Gaian a nod -- or is it a flash of
throat -- and heads to the edges of the Caern, to take up her post.

Kristine smiles at Brigid, her smile a little..bitter. She turns and walks
over, murmuring something in a low voice, a voice only for the fellow
Fang.

Bitter Cup shimmers into being near the water, shrinking back down to
homid form as she joins the others in the middle.

Brigid raises an eyebrow high at that, leaning in closer to whisper a
response, looking decidely intrigued about something.

Eye-of-Ra quirks an ear at Sepdet, but follows the Theurge's line of
vision and makes her own conclusion. Seeker gets a lick on the knee. There
is more of a playful, malicious intent than outward display of affection
here.

Quentin is keeping close behind Salem as the two walk along out into the
caern, looking just a little.. overwhelmed. If nothing else it keeps him
in the Glass Walker's shadow for the moment. A hint of wonder in blue
eyes, as he looks about the muddied clearing and at all of the people
gathered about.

Susan bumps her alpha with her head, then grins. "Ready for this?"

Fights-For-Hope stands tall and proudly now before Wildfire and nods his
head. This done he cracks a smile and lowers back down to the lupine form
to settle in for the evening. ~I have waited this long, and I can wait a
little longer.~ Is his eventual reply.

Child-Holder meanders around the edges of the gathering, looking towards
the rest of the Bawn.

Seirian looks around briefly as others gather in, and finds a spot that
she can crouch in, hands draped across her knees. She mouths words
soundlessly to herself, as if going over a speech of some sort in her
head.

Kaz limps down the trail, and into the roiling mass of Garou.

Yi slips in amongst the outskirts of the gathered, remaining away from the
majority of the masses but watching.

Kristine continues to converse lightly with the other Fang, turning every
now and then to give a round over the gathered, as if looking for one,
specific person.

Entering the Caern together, the unlikely pair of John and Tatt move
toward the center. The Walker Elder's hands are deep in jacket pockets,
and his eyes only briefly scan the area for signs of Packmates and
Tribesmates. His grimness seems to be mirrored somewhat in the Strider who
shadows him; by his side, and yet contriving to be seen as keeping to
herself. The two halt a moment, as John turns to look between Tatt and her
gathered Tribe, in an unspoken query.

In the windiest area, Patrick makes his way out of the crowd and into the
area of the caern that used to be windier, though the wind seems to have
abated for the moment. He nods to himself, then slowly and deliberately
shifts up into crinos form before turning back to look towards the center.

Stephen moves quietly to the edge of the gathering, not hiding, but not
interrupting either.

Brigid simply nods to whatever Kris is saying, expression tightening a
little bit as she, too, scans the crowd for one face in particular.

Fights-For-Hope trots out now, edging by each member of Ouroboros, Susan
first, with a quick bark of acknowledgement and well meant greeting.

Susan reaches out, scritches Fights-for-Hope behind the ears, and then
settles back to listen to the Fool.

Andrea's lips quirk at Susan. She acknowledges the Get of Fenris with an
absent nod.

Serendipity regards her Strider packmate from the edges of the gathering,
something in that gaze beckoning.

Jarred leaves Raven's side for a moment, shifting silently to his
near-wolf form and raising and elegant black muzzle to the stars. From
deep within his throat a crystal clear howl begins, flinging itself far
out into the night.

Storm-Singer howls long and loud. From Center of the Caern, Storm-Singer
can be heard to howl, ~Garou of the Hidden Walk! We gather at moot in our
caern's center. Join your brethren in the most holy place!~

At this howl, James once more returns to his elder's side in anticipation
of what is to come.

Francisco comes in, hands in the pockets of his duster and dark circles
under his eyes. He meanders towards his packmates, placing boots carefully
on the soft ground.

Serendipity straightens slightly, and begins watching the edges of the
Caern with far more attention than she had before.

By the steam vents, Jonas approaches along one of the known footpaths, the
well-treaded and safe routes, and makes his way toward the center without
pretense.

Tatt hangs back for a moment, hands in her pockets as she eyes the
gathering. The tall Strider shadows John surreptitiously, but offers a nod
towards her packmates at the edge of the caern. She seems preoccupied.

Raven watches Jarred in quiet awe, though her expression quickly shifts to
frustration, especially after he leaves. Her lack of familiarity with the
Mother Tongue may or may not be apparent.

Child-Holder watches the gathering and those approaching carefully,
apparently looking for one Garou in particular.

Alicia comes trudging along with her pack, with Richard in tow, letting
out a soft breath to herself. She is dressed nicely for a change, instead
of her urban, ghetto wear.

Quentin is standing more or less in Salem's shadow, as he watches everyone
gathering and preparing for.. whatever's coming up. At the howl's
sounding, he jumps just a bit before looking over towards Storm-Singer
with a look of startlement, watching him leave and letting his gaze linger
at the departure. "What did he say?" He doesn't ask anyone in particular,
and is pretty much talking to himself.

Sepdet looks steadily towards Tatt and John, observing her tribesmate
intently from across the gathering.

Once he's among others, Jonas keeps more or less to himself -- though he
does briefly survey the assemblage, frowning, before he sinks into a
crouch.

Chance finally seems satisfied with his paw, and sets it back on the
ground, looking around him and taking in the multitude of familiar scents
curiously.

Richard walks in with Alicia, long and easy strides, staying close to his
cousin. He looks around, marvelling at all the faces, some familiar, most
not.

Shadow-of-Blood makes his way into the caern slowly. He wrinkles his nose
at the crowd at the center, and instead stays on the outskirts, pacing
around as he sniffs at the air, seeking his packmates.

John inclines his head towards Tatt, murmuring something lowly and
gesturing towards her Tribe, and then her pack. An incredibly brief touch
on her shoulder, and he turns to find his own Pack, and stand amongst
them.

Robert looks towards the Caller, ignoring the small box he carries for the
moment as the moot begins in earnest.

Eye-of-Ra's ears splay, glancing from Sepdet to Tatt, perhaps out of
secondhand concern. She flicks her tail questioningly at her Elder, but
otherwise remains calm and expressionless.

Salem leans over to murmur to Quentin. "He called for the other Garou not
yet gathered to come. Basically, he announced that the moot will begin
soon."

Seirian rests one hand lightly on the ground and looks towards the Caller
as well, posture taut as a harpstring even in the relaxed posture of a
crouch.

Kristine smiles a little bit with what Brigid murmers, before turning to
look at the Caller.

Nightfire and and Reforged are gathered in a small clump near the edge of
the rock slab.

Quentin leans up to listen to Salem's words, and then he nods in a single
quick motion. "Cool," he murmurs back, dropping back a bit once more and
rocking just a bit where he stands. Heel, toe, heel, toe, as he looks
about with a somewhat awestruck expression. "..damn, there's a lot of
people," he mumbles to himself.

Ceylan pays attention to what's going on, moot wise, and then, pays
attention to what's going on around it.

At length, Jonas' attention tracks over toward the stone outcropping --
past Nightflash and Reforged, to the hispo upon the rocks. And then he
permits himself a tiny smile before permitting some of his tension to
ease.

Shadow-of-Blood makes his way near the rock slab to join his pack, his
ears pricked with the eagernessof a moot.

Tatt gives John a look that's somewhere between annoyance and respect, and
nods wordlessly. It takes her a few more moments to spot Sepdet--at which
point, she blurs into motion and moves across the caern in mere seconds,
tackling her tiny elder in a bear-hug.

Apocalypse bounds into the caern in lupus form, hairless double-tails
a-waving.

From the rock outcropping, The Shadow Lord elder shifts to the form of
Rage, a clenched black fist held before him as he growls his given duty.
~Hear now the commandments of the Litany, our only law for time
immemorial.~ Combat the Wyrm Wherever It Dwells and Whenever It Breeds!~

Wildfire sits quietly behind his packmates, looking like he needs to sleep
for a few days.

Raven's earlier frustration seems to ease almost instantly, and though
sitting on her own immersed in a throng of mostly strangers, she seems to
be at ease. Mostly.

Sepdet's face cracks into a grin as she's unceremoniously hoisted.
Whatever greetings she might have given are simply conveyed by an earnest
squeeze of Tatt's shoulders as the Litany-calling begins.

Jonas seems to relax still further as the Litany's begun being called,
though a trace of bemusement lingers behind dark eyes.

Yi hangs back on the outskirts of the gathering, watching the Strider
elder from afar briefly before sending her gaze back out to the
surroundings alertly.

Tobin walks quietly into the center of the caern, walking stick held in
one hand and keeping step along with him. He spots his tribemates and
walks over to stand silently next to them.

Kristine gives a nod to Tobin, and a weary smile before listening to the
calling.

In the windiest area, Faces-Shadows looks around the caern at the renmants
of what had gone on before, then he looks over the gathered Garou.
~Combat? They obviously can be better at defending a hive--or caern--by
defiling with sludge and destroying trees than we all can by working
together. Gaia should take lessons from the Wyrm!~

Synthesis gathers... Salem joins his pack, bringing Quentin and keeping
the cub close. Francisco converges on his packmates with small nods of
greeting, shifts to the war-form and settles back on his haunches. As John
comes to stand before the gathered packmates, and his new cub, he calls
out mildly, "Combat the Wyrm where it dwells and breeds, or it will combat
/us/ where /we/ dwell. And begin breeding there, too." Nuff said.

Kaz growls, ~Fuck off. They had time to fuck with it. We got time to fix
it. And we /will/.~

Tatt holds off from crushing her elder with the hug, and stands back to
check the smaller woman for any obvious signs of injury. She grins and
murmurs a few words to Sepdet before moving away, trotting over to join
Serendipity.

Apocalypse pads over to the other Fangs, butting up against Tobin's legs,
tongue lolling.

Rides-Fire snarls wordlessly at the Fool, the swollen moon pulling
strongly at the ahroun's temper.

Wildfire responds to that retort with a faceful of teeth and a harsh
snarl.

Serendipity whuffles something low to Tatt, then growls, toward the Moot,
~I take no lessons from their defilement, other than to be more wary than
I was already.~

Tobin calls back to the Fool, "When the Wyrm chose to dwell here, we
combatted it and won. It picked a poor place to attempt to dwell and
breed."

Susan shakes back her curls and snarls at her packmate. The snarl
transforms into a long, yipping howl as the no-moon goes for the easy
response of simply drowning out the fool.

Brigid offers a nod and a small smile to Tobin before the Fool distracts
her into responding with a soft growl in the back of her throat.

Jonas's bemusement gathers, and his lips purse. He keeps quiet.

Child-Holder snaps her teeth in denial of the fools words.

Skyscraper snarls at Faces-Shadows, ~We took it back, did we not.~ And
stops before he gets more worked up. A bad moot to be playing the Fool,
this is.

Kristine gives another smile to Tobin, nodding to his words, before
watching again.

Fights-For-Hope barks harshly up towards the fool. ~That path leads to the
spiral, a path we will not walk.~

Salem murmurs something in Quentin's ear, making gestures toward Jarred
and Faces-Shadows. Explaining what's going on, probably.

Rags snarls, ~Take lessons from the Wyrm? We have! Learn from failure and
defeat and come back wiser and stronger.~

Leonard moves towards his pack, narrowing his eyes as his elder is
hoisted, then relaxing a bit once he sees its not unwelcome. He stands
next to Yi, looking down at her with a swift, fond smile.

Golden-Eyes sits on her flanks among her tribe quietly. She chuffs softly
to all the talk that is taking place. Slowly her ears fall back against
her skull, still looking somewhat regal. ~We are a strong sept, we should
be proud of our accomplishmensts.~ she growls softly. Honestly they have
come to do better things tonight.

Tatt gives a brief salute to Serendipity before moving to the caern's
least-guarded flank, blurring down into lupus and watching the treeline.

From the rock outcropping, As the taunts and protests die out, the Shadow
Lord moves on to the next two tenets and is contradicted again by the Fool
each time, expertly so, it should be noted. For his words incite rage as
few fools in the past have. Needless to say, each retort is beaten down by
the time-worn wisdom of older garou and the brash contempt of the those
younger. When all is again quiet, Song-of-Fury continues, growling
authoritatively. ~Accept an Honorable Surrender.~

Quentin senses "Salem indicates Jarred. "That one, a Galliard, recites the
Litany, law by law. Then the other, a Ragabash, mocks the laws, and the
Sept then refutes the Fool. It can seem violent, but everyone is aware
that the Ragabash does not truly believe what he says.""

Quentin shifts in a bit closer to where Salem's standing to listen to his
words, green eyes flickering in one direction then the other as both Garou
are indicated in turn. "Okay," he murmurs back to the man, seeming to
understand at least the gist of what he said.

In the windiest area, Faces-Shadows's back of amusment is short and sharp.
~Honorable? What is ever honorable about surrender? Surrender is weakness,
accepting it almost as much so, and we cannot afford weakness in this
fight.~

Kaz snorts. ~Dude, it ain't no weakness to let someone who beat you know
it. And if you killed everyone while you was aimin' for leadership, who
would you have left to order around?~

Eye-of-Ra is more intent on listening to the replies of others than
offering her own. Her tail does flicker questioningly for a moment. Did he
not speak the tenant of not breeding Metis? she asks of either Elder
beside her.

John simply folds his arms in silence.

Richard watches quietly as he stands near Alicia, nodding at this or that.
His good eye is wide open, focused on the interplay between the Shadow
Lord and the fool. He looks over towards Salem, noticing another new face.

Child-Holder snarls. Letting your rage overtake you is weakness, more
weakness than surrendering. At least he who surrenders knows when to stop.

The Fury Elder merely snarls softly. ~Knowing your place is not weakness.~

Jonas's left simply shaking his head, breathing a soft snort that's more
incredulity than anything. Newcomer, he, apparently.

Shadow-of-Blood growls lowly. Accepting when another shows throat is the
way of the wolf. Pushing farther because rage is strong or because a kill
is wanted is the way to the Wyrm.

Andrea shifts up to answer then, her voice strong and sure. ~Weakness? No,
it is weakness to indulge in anger and vengence against one that has
surrendered.~

Fights-For-Hope nearly howls to the Fool, ~We fight to honor ourselves and
our foes. In surrendering a challenge you have the chance to improve, to
become greater and challenge once more when you are worthy. Even the
greatest of us lose once. If we were to die each time, there would be no
growth, no chance for true greatness in our Heroes.~

Tobin shifts up to his war form to reply to the Fool this time, ~Showing
Honor and Wisdom in knowing when to stay your hand is no act of weakness.~

From the rock outcropping, One by one, the subsequent tenets are called.
The Fools performs his sacred duty admirably, countering each commandment
with his finest arguments and most scathing rebukes in his repertoire,
only to be shouted down by those hearing his blasphemy. At last, the
Galliard's voice rises above all as he calls the next two tenets together.
~The Leader May Be Challenged at Any Time During Peace, but The Leader May
/NOT/ Be Challenged During Wartime.~

In the windiest area, the Uktena ragabash shakes his head sadly. ~And if
the Leader leads us into the maw of the Wyrm in a foolhardy battle, we
follow blindly? Let me challenge the one who just thinks he knows best,
the same way I can challenge a peacetime leader all day long!~

Kaz snorts. ~Dude, clue in. If you switch horses midstream, you're just
beggin' for an asswhuppin'.~

Rags howls in outrage. ~In war, we fight the enemy, not each other.~

Eye-of-Ra snorts at the Fool. ~Don't be ridiculous. If you're worried
about who's got the bigger balls rather than the invasion of your Caern,
you need to overlook your priorities.~

Susan's voice slices through the shouts and becomes one with the other
retorts. ~Of course! Spend time fighting each other when the Wyrm is at
your heels. What an excellent idea!~

John simply remains standing with his arms folded; silent.

Serendipity shakes her head, into the dark woods. ~There must be more
coordination, at such times, not less.~

Brigid's mouth curls into a smile as she listens, not moving much from her
spot just behind Kris, chin lifting slightly as she speaks. "Divided
loyalties divide forces, and an army divided soon loses the fight. Save
your griping for afterwards, when you have a better chance of changing
things before the next conflict comes around.

Robert answers calmly, though his baritone voice carries, "In a time of
war, you need strong leaders, ones who cannot--and should not--brook
rebellion under their command. Such dissatisfaction and rebellion leads to
corruption from within."

Sun-Stare turns an ear back to the moot's discussion briefly, but keeps
her attention to the darkened forest surrounding the caern.

Fights-For-Hope profers up to the fool in a resounding barking through the
other shoutings, ~In war, to turn to your leader as your enemy is to turn
your back to your true foe.~

Nightfire says, ~There is a time to test, to challenge, and find
weaknesses. But when we fight, we must be united, for if we do not stand
as one, then our strength, our rage, our Gifts, none of these will save
us, and we will be overrun by an enemy that outnumbers and fears us.~

Rides-Fire snorts in disgust. ~That fight may not be hopeless, or may be
more important than you know. By faltering, you lose the flame.~

Stephen seats himself as the litany is completed, a look of contentment on
his face. He smiles as if remembering something fondly.

From the rock outcropping, Song-of-Fury looks down upon the gathered garou
with muted satisfaction. They have answered the Fool passably well this
night. He bares his teeth. Someday this group may actually impress him.
With a roar, the Shadow Lord thunders the final tenet of the Litany. ~Ye
Shall Take No Action That Causes a Caern to be Violated!~ He turns to
regard the Fool, as if daring him to come up with /any/ argument to the
contrary.

John murmurs softly and somewhat jokingly to his packmates, "Oh, I don't
know... we seemed to do a better job of attacking a taken Caern than
defending it. And we killed more Dancers that way than if they'd just been
roaming the countryside..."

Kaz bares a tooth at John.

Richard looks over towards Alicia and grins after an earlier comment by
Robert. He shifts, feeling the energy of the group, tensing slightly.
Looking around he focuses on several of the shifted members, his brow
furrowed in slight concentration.

Skyscraper snorts at his alpha and shakes his head as if he somehow got a
fly in his ear.

Salem shifts a sidelong glance to John. A lifted eyebrow is his only
response, though his expression is wry.

In the windiest area, Faces-Shadows looks around the caern once again.
When he speaks, it is not mocking, but more slow and serious. ~It seems
there has been enough inaction--not action--to violate this caern. Too few
Guardians, none wanting to patrol, too many wanting to just go their own
way and ignore the needs of the caern. There has already been enough
refutation of this line.~

Serendipity says, over her shoulder, ~Guardian, at your service.~

Sun-Stare actually takes a moment to glance back towards John, chuffing
vaguely... in approval? She looks towards Serendipity with a nod before
gazing back at the forest.

Jonas's jaw tenses, momentarily, and there's a flash of amusement that
races through those dark eyes of his. But then he's looking away from the
proceedings, absently scraping a finger through the foot- and paw-wracked
mud in front of him.

Seeker snarls, ~Tell that to those who gave their lives defending and
fighting to reclaim this caern.~

Peggy gnaws on her lower lip, avoiding eye-contact with anyone.

Aiyana sneaksneaks in, trying to be as quiet as she possibly can. Once in
the area she looks for a place to sit. "Hope I don't get into trouble for
this..."

Child-Holder snaps her teeth again, still watching outwards. I carried one
of those 'inactive' Guardians back to the city after she nearly died
defending this place. Try harder, Fool.

Ears growls, ~Right, whatever. We gotta fuckin' /protect/ the place,
/this/ time.~ Then she pats somewhere near her, and murmurs, ~C'mon over,~
quietly, to the cub.

Sepdet folds her arms. ~The point has been dearly made. We can blame those
who were /not/ there, or each shoulder responsibility. But only one of
these paths holds a future.~

John's good humour disappears, and his voice gains a feral edge - aided by
the sudden employment of the mother's tongue. ~The Sept of the Hidden Walk
was /never/ in full strength until we made to reclaim it. Respect the
dead, but /learn from the Fool's taunts/,~ he snarls, in almost a command.

Brigid speaks up quite clearly, right on the tail of Child-Holder's words,
"I have been and always will be a Guardian if the need is there. The need
still exists, so I will remain. I place no blame on those who were not
officially Guardians, for all fought well, and that is what matters the
most."

Yi looks back up at Leonard, and goes back to looking around like a self
imposed mini-radar.

Seirian scratches her fingers at the dirt beneath her for a moment,
looking down at it as the words go back and forth over her head.

Elan shifts his shoulders, lip lifting in a snarl.

Wildfire shifts upward to the near-wolf, hackles on end and seemingly
about to tear into the closest person to him, but instead raises his
muzzle to the sky in a haunting call to war. That is his only reply to the
Fool's last.

Rheen shifts her feet under her, taking in the proceedings intently, but
not about to add anything herself.

Fights-For-Hope snorts at the Walker elder, not quite approval though.
~Those who have guarded, and still guard, have lost much to protect our
caern. They still do so now, you say we spoke against that law... no, we
simply haven't spoken it loud enough. Now we do. And We shall not take any
action that causes a caern to be violated!~

Song-of-Fury lumbers back to his cub's side, shifing back down to his
homid form.

Aiyana looks around for anyone familiar she can sit by, still quite unsure
of what to do around this many people.

Layne listens distractedly to the Litany-calling and the shouting down,
not an active participant in this part of the moot. She stands somewhere
in-between her gathered tribesmates and the Strider, Eye-of-Ra, arms
crossed over her chest, boots braced against the earth shoulder-width
apart. While no less eager about the proceedings, she seems to be throwing
the majority of her focus into something else entirely. She'll pause to
close her eyes intermittently, mouthing something noiselessly--a practiced
speech, perhaps.

Richard takes a step or two backwards, crossing his arms as he listens.
Looking around, he notices Peggy and then Rheen and he quickly unfolds his
arms, trying to motion to them without drawing a lot of attention to
himself.

Bitter Cup sighs, as angry words and pointed looks follow that last call.
Standing next to her other ragabash packmate, the Gaian's ears sag
slightly but she makes no verbal reply.

Raven pulls back for a moment as Jarred returns from his lupine frothing,
a brow raised meekly as she whispers a question to him.

Jonas tracks Song-of-Fury's departure from the stone with his eyes, and as
inobtrusively as he's able, gets up and threads his way through the crowd
toward the Shadow Lord elder.

Aiyana glances to Ears and smiles, making her way towards the Garou while
trying not to draw much attention to herself. "Hey, sorry I'm late," she
whispers.

Calls-Spirits settles back on his haunches, remaining in Crinos for the
time being as he silently watches the proceedings. Scars gained from the
battle to retake the caern are clearly visible on the young Fang.

Robert answers, once again calm but with steel in hs voice, "It is my
fervent hope that we /have/ learned. Even those who would not be Guardians
before are volunteering now, to join those who were spread thin before. Of
all the Litany, that is one line that will not be broken."

Kaz's grin is fond. ~Yeah,~ she grates, almost in a whisper, ~'s okay.~

Jarred nods to the Philodox and whispers something to him once he is near.

Quentin shifts his feet just a bit at the latest words spoken - these in a
language he can understand - and glances up to Salem, almost visibly
tucking a question away for later before returning to watching all of this
with wide eyes.

Aiyana glances around curiously. "So, what've I missed?" She keeps her
voice low.

Yi makes it a point to wave at Aiyana and Kaz as well. Should they glance
her way, that is.

Rheen nods slightly as she sees Richard and unfolds to stand, or at least
stoop, to avoid getting in anyone's way. She glances around at the
assembled Garou as she moves carefully toward her tribemate, looking for
any signs that she's doing something she's not supossed to.

Eye-of-Ra tilts her head up to regard Layne before getting to her feet.
Gently tapping both Elders with her tail, the Strider removes herself from
between them, edging closer toward the Fianna Philodox.

Salem stands with hands folded into the pockets of his coat, his
expression deliberately neutral, his posture stiff.

Peggy picks Rheen out of the assembled faces and gravitates toward her as
quickly as the crush of the crowd allows.

Kaz and Aiyana sidle over nearer to Yi.

Richard turns and takes a few steps towards Rheen, meeting her part way.
He, too, is careful to keep quiet and out of the way. Staying low, he
whispers a quick greeting. Noticing the arrival of another 'sister,' he
stands up and nods, before looking over his shoulder at the convocation.

Sepdet steps away from her tribesmates as Bitter Cup steps forward,
waiting for the lesson of the Litany-calling to sink in. Then the Gaian
raises her hands. The Strider lets out a wild, ululating howl as she
shifts up, concentrates. A spray of water bursts from her fingers,
dissolves into a brief swirl of dancing flame. ~We call upon the Wyld!~
Bitter Cup proclaims in a firm, clear voice. ~Dance now!~ Sepdet calls
fiercely in return. ~Drum, howl, and dance to wake the pulse that beats
beneath our feet!~ She strikes the earth with a heel and spins away in an
irregular, wild, careening circle of the caern that few living have seen
her invoke. Andrea, too, beats the ground with her feet in almost Bacchic
choreography, but with more grace.

By the waterfall, Chaser streaks out of the woods, running at the
lon-gstride lope of a wolf covering distance. She heads down toward the
center of the Caern at full tilt, a timber wolf running as if in hot
pursuit of her prey.

Aiyana waves to Yi as she approaches with Kaz, then looks towards the
howling curiously. "...wow. It's like a nightclub, only furrier..."

Apocalypse's ears perk up, and the manic Fang hardly needs to be told
twice. Shifting up to Crinos form, she raises her voice in a clear, wildly
gleeful howl.

Nightfire doesn't dance. He cants his head at a curious angle, and looks
around.

Raven's lips purse together in puzzlement as Jonas approaches her Elder,
and when (...if) he looks her way, she mouths the question "Who?" The
sudden howling distracts her from noticing his answer.

Dane grins. Dance, huh? He closes his eyes and begins stomping his right
foot on the ground as if searching for a beat.

Rides-Fire turns toward Shadow-of-Blood for guidance.

Susan sends up a sparkle of Faerie Lights and begins her own dance. She
pulls on Elan, inviting her packmate to join her in the revel.

Fights-For-Hope, not much one for dancing tonight, throws out a howl
carrying the spirit's tongue, *We! Call! You! To! Us!*, his odd crazed
near barks seem to go to some kind of beat. *WE! CALL! YOU! TO! US!* Again
and again, he repeats till he is howling it out to heaven and earth.

John arches an eyebrow as he stands rigid. And looks about. He eyes his
packmates thoughtfully for a moment.

Rags tilts his head at the Theurges' madness, and he shifts his feet
restlessly, but, finding his footing in the slippery mud unstable,
switches to keeping his feet still and waggles in a form of bellydancing
instead.

Eamon lets out a wild yell and kicks up his heels in a step-dance, waving
his arms to the other Fianna to join him.

Calls-Spirits shifts back down to homid as the call is made for dancing
and drumming. His drum is produced from under his jacket and he beats on
it in a staccato rhythm, wild and rapid. He stomps his feet heavily to the
beat, eventually tilting back his head as he raises the drum up high.

Shadow-of-Blood tilts his head curiously, then starts jumping around
randomly, barking and yipping. Change. Grow.

Child-Holder weaves between a trio of trees, still watching the outside
edges of the Bawn. Moving, more than dancing, she begins to match
Fights-For-Hope's words. We call you to us. We call you to us. We CALL you
to us. We CALL YOU to us. And so it goes.

Skyscraper responds to the command with a loud, surprisingly musical howl,
then looks at his pack, ears up for the first time all night.

Dena, perhaps too wary, falls down into lupus and lopes toward Chaser, the
Fury's ears flicking back. When and if Chaser slows, Dena also slows, and
heads back to her watch, sending up a wild, ululating howl from a crinos
throat.

Kaz, meanwhile, snorts at Aiyana. "We just got the place back, we gotta
celebrate it." That said, she nudges at the cub and starts dancing. Badly.
There are howls mixed in, as well, from a homid throat.

Wildfire pauses as Chaser streaks into view, a low grin on his face,
honestly glad to see her return. Get, he mutters before turning towards
Nightflash. Do not dance the homid way. Dance the ahroun way with me.

The Shadow Lords don't dance.

Shadow-of-Blood tilts his head curiously, then starts jumping around
randomly, barking and yipping. Change. Grow.

Richard looks amazed at the sudden revelrie, wondering at the call. He
looks back at Rheen and grins, reaching up to quickly take his fake eye
out of its socket, dropping it into his pocket. He pats his foot to the
beat, looking quickly at the sound of a new drum. He hums an impromptu
bass line.

Chaser skids to a halt as she passes Wildfire, hackles rising as she turns
to stare at the other Get. She snarls, a low sound of disbelief. How--?!?

Aiyana blinks. "Woah, woah. You want me to..." She waves a hand towards
the others dancing, shaking her head a little. "I think...I'll sit this
one out. Yeah."

Eye-of-Ra remains in the dire wolf form, though her body begins to shake
the slightest with a little feral grace. She's more intent on forming a
song, a long howl that threads its way between the howls of others,
celebration of a caern reclaimed.

Salem's expression curdles a bit at Sepdet's invokation, and for a moment
casts his gaze heavenwards. Then he looks at his packmates and Quentin.
"Respect to the spirit," he mutters, mostly to John. He glances around,
then back at the Walker Ahroun, then adds, "Or would you rather be like
_them_?" He indicates the Shadow Lords.

Faces-Shadows shuffles his feet, not quite in fancy-dancing, but in
motions that at least resemble that style of dancing.

Eamon lifts his muzzle in a loud howl to the sky, calling the Wyld to
them.

Apocalypse spins about wildly, arms spread wide and howling like a happy
banshee, not caring who she slams into in her wild dance.

Brigid fails to suppress something of a grin as she looks around, catching
on the rhythm of Tobin's drum and joining in the dance. Her movements are
soft and flowing, arms weaving with each other in a way more reminiscent
of modern dance than anything else, though she is not without spats of
foot-stopping.

Rides-Fire mimics the Red Talon, the scarred wolf's jumps betraying his
inate grace, if not his ease. I can jump higher, he comments to
Shadow-of-Blood teasingly. Rabbit showed me how.

Nor does Jonas dance. He touches a brief smile upon Raven before he's
swinging his gaze to the ritualists, evidently having appointed himself
the role of a spectator, this evening.

Leonard stomps repeatedly, bobbing his head, listening for the beat.

Kaz grabs Aiyana's hands and sends her swinging. "C'mon, kid, let it out.
/Enjoy/ yourself!"

Chance leaps up, yipping and barking at random, and bumps into Brigid and
Kristine roughly. pawing black mudd onto their pretty outfits.

From the rock outcropping, Road-Rage wanders halfway into the caern,
attracted by the sounds and scents of a whole mess of garou. The Strider
cub just sort of stops up at the outcropping, peering into the gathered
crowd in vague curiousity.

Whatever else Layne was doing, she abandons that when Sepdet calls for
Wyld. The Fianna suddenly leaps to attention, appearing to reprise her
spontaneous dance from a work-day at the caern--only in human form, this
time. No step-dancing for her; the halfmoon cavorts wildly, howling like a
banshee, fire-red hair whipping around her head and shoulders.

A wide smile spreads across the Gaian athro ahroun's face as he eagerly
joins the dancing, careful to hold the wooden box so that it doesn't fall
open, but still incorporating it into his movements.

Nightfire watches his packmates, and shifts into the warmform. At Chaser's
appearance, he motions Wildfire toward her, and then begins jumping around
in the manner suggested by Shadow-of-Blood. Yes, he looks sily. But then,
he's as white as they come.

Stephen stands and begins to spin, arms outstretched. Slow at first the
spinning gets faster and faster as he howls with his human birth-voice.

Quentin has drawn back just a little from all the frenetic celebration and
dancing, and then he blinks up at Salem before blurting out in startled
tones, "I, uh, can't dance. Really."

Aiyana squeals in surprise, looking quite embarrased. "Uh...which form?"
she asks as she steadies herself, listening to the music around her. "I
mean, wolf, crinos, human, or what?"

Elan tosses off his shirt, begins to dance with wild abandon, giving
himself over to the primal power he feels coursing through the caern and
the moot.

John's mouth quirks upwards a little, and he gives a faint 'Huh' of
amusement, before turning and offering his hand to Alicia. "Shall we
dance?"

Seirian gathers her breath within her and draws herself up from her crouch
slowly. As she rises, her voice builds in her throat and grows up with her
into the war form, leaving her throat as a long, loud howl of calling to
whatever is listening. When it threatens to die out, she gathers breath
again and repeats the howl.

Kaz, still spinning her cub, seems perfectly content in homid. "Just /be/!"

Rheen watches the dancers with a mix of scepticisim and eagerness, not
sure if she's allowed to join in, or even if she should. She glances over
to her tribemates, just in time to catch Richard removing his eye.
Supressing a shudder and forcing a grin, she grabs both cubs by the
wrists, and starts to move into the crowd with them.

Alicia grins over to John and slides her hand into his, gliding the other
arm around his waist as she nods her head sharply. "We shall! You get to
lead though!"

Sun-Stare, near the outskirts of the caern, glances back at the sept and
tilts her head back as if to howl--but then coughs roughly, and ducks her
head with a stifled growl. Ears lowered, she resigns herself to watching
the borders.

Skyscraper lolls his tongue at his packmates and pounces into the midst of
the dancing, whirling with the other Garou, howling occasionally something
that sounds an awful lot like ~Mosh!~

Yi, not exactly one for a public show, doesn't necessarily join on the
fray. But, instead slips over to a burnt out, broken, fallen piece of log.
Shifting the glabro, she beats on the log in a sporadic display of martial
arts, mixing in some random beat to it for Leonard to dance to.

Susan's lights spin upward, looping in around themselves in a slow
counterpoint to the rest of Ouroboros' dance. Every so often they swoop
down to encircle one of the more reluctant particpants.

Wildfire turns again away fron Nightflash towards his newly arrived
tribesmate. There's only a feral grin on his face as he walks up to her.
He gives no explanation, instead asking, Dance with me, woman!

Serendipity continues to watch out into the trees, stolid, though it's
clear from her twitching, wistful posture that she'd far, far rather be
singing to the sky.

Peggy's nervous cough is drowned in the roar of celebreation. Her
expression becomes more and more mortified as a minute passes, until
suddenly she finds herself skipping along on one foot in a frantic effort
to keep up with Rheen.

Raven studies Jonas curiously, then without a second thought gets to her
feet and starts dancing with little inhibition, a wild, crazy, young
teenager half-metal thrashing, half-skanking dance.

Salem glances down at Quentin. "Then howl. In homid form, if you have to.
Yell. Scream. Whatever." And he demonstrates by boiling upward into the
war form and bellowing out a howl worthy of Grandfather Thunder himself,
an explosion of pent-up rage and energy that's all the more startling from
the characteristically stoic Glass Walker.

The Walker Elder and his Gaian Packmate begin a triple-tempo, scaled-up
version of the tango. Smouldering eyes and passion included.

Golden-Eyes leaps about in dire form, her movements swift and wild. Her
muzzle rises for a moment as she closes her eyes, emitting a soft prayer
to Gaia. Her voice lightly echoing into the night, barely heared over the
others. The young cliath then stops as she looks to her elder, her head
tilting. She tosses her head as she moves closer towards Seirian, while
merging in with the other bodies dancing timelessly around her.

Aiyana hmms. "A'ight...if you say so..." She catches the howl of mosh and
grins, nodding a little to the beat. Hey, it's something. "Are we allowed
to go big and furry? That way, least less people have the chance of
recognizin' me?"

Fights-For-Hope breaks his howl as Chaser comes to view. ~We call forth
the wyld tonight! Bring the wyld out in yourself as well.~ With this he
leaps into Wildfire from behind, tumbling the two massive wolves into
Chaser yipping madly and playfully.

Richard yells out as the group of cubs actively join the fray. He doesn't
notice Rheen's reaction to his eye, but he does notice Peggy's
nervousness. He tries to give her a comforting grin, before he yells
again.

Child-Holder barks at Road-Rage as he comes into her view. Boy! DANCE!
Celebrate!

The Glasswalking packing Gaian stares deeply into John's eyes as the two
bodies move together as one, feet quick, flourishy and in pattern. She
gets spun, then dragged back to his arms quickly, finding herself dipped
backwards just as quick. Once again they take off, twirling, twisting
about each other as they burn up the grass with this latin dance of
passion.

Chaser circles Wildfire, pacing out a slower, far more sober circle, her
teeth bared. Abruptly, she peels off to tip her head to the sky, letting
loose a fierce, angry howl--not joy, in the wolfsong, but pure fury.

Leonard begins shaking, twitching, rhythmic jerky movements as he steps
carefully to the beat. Strutting like a peacock, almost literally, his
movements birdlike as he bobs his head, looking around. He lifts his voice
in an unearthly yell only a few here have heard -- his tribe's battle cry,
only it is triumphant in tone now.

Kaz finally lets go of Aiyana and goes whirling off on her own. She
doesn't answer, too busy trying not to fall over due to her scars.

John's fingers trail long, and luxuriously over the curves of Alicia's
body, before draping her over his arm - lips close before a sudden,
vicious embrace - stalking off and leading into a spin; the two at arm's
length, straining either side. They're... actually quite good at this.

Elan leaps in the air, does a back flip, yelps and yells his joy to the
sky. "Here! We are here!" he cries, really getting into this.

Yi gradually speeds up the hits against the hollow tree, striking with
fists, open palms, legs and feet at completely random areas. She dances
around the tree too, calling out to the skies.

Brigid doesn't seem to care a single bit that she gets muddy as she gets
caught up in the dance, the rhythm, the energy that is in the air. Eyes
closed, her limbs attempting to flow in all directions at once as she
whirls and stomps her way around the caern, beaded braids knocking against
each other in their own tiny counterpoint.

Rheen's really getting into it, her self conciousness slipping away as she
whirls like a madwoman, grinning the whole time. The smell of friends and
forest is intoxicating, and she throws up her arms, hands clenched into
fists and lets out a long 'WOOOO!!!!'

From the rock outcropping, Road-Rage is seen, dang. Well whatever, he goes
bounding down the trail to the caern's center. A bit out of practice in
the area he manages to nearly kill himself in the process, or at least
fall on his face once or twice. Yeehah.

Dane finds his beat and begins moving, spinning and clapping as if caught
in some crazy Scottish mood.

Jarred leans over to Jonas. "And they think that Shadow Lords have
repressed energy?" He seems amused.

Aiyana shakes her head at Kaz. "Man. She's so not right..." Glancing
around, she gives a helpless shrug and shifts, growing in size, until
she's standing there in crinos. Still confused, she sways a little to the
beat, while trying not to look too out of place.

Any response is not obvious, to say the least, and probably not even
noticeable to those not close to the very center of the caern. The grass
near the remnants of the white boulder begins to grow, sprouting up and
out, finally shoving at nearby Garou as the grass grows up to a height of
six feet, the blades each over a handsbreadth wide.

Peggy wildly pinwheels her arms in an attempt to regain her balance,
smacking into somebody's back in the process. She rights herself,
carefully removing her glasses and stowing them, then makes an awkward
attempt to dance, which mostly consists of flailing her arms like a
drowning person.

Luna-Singer holds one hand out welcomingly to Golden-Eyes and grins as she
howls again, stretching her voice out as if calling across ages of time
and space.

Tobin's hand is swift and sure and strong as he calls forth surprisingly
loud sounds from the small drum. He spins as he stomps the ground, each
step a call and a prayer to the Wyld.

Almost in a kiss, Alicia and John's lips hover barely inches from each
other as they dance, moving in grace, their posture perfect. She gets
dipped again, then spun by one hand, circling herself into his embrace,
pressing her back up against his chest. Ra-Ta-Ta! What a beat.

Kaz, so not right, keeps spinning, until she falls down, laughing, at
Aiyana's feet.

Quentin actually drops back half a step as Salem erupts upwards into his
war-form and breaks his usual stoic demeanor with that thunderous roar. He
swallows a bit, licking his lips and looking about the laughing, roaring,
uproarous chaos that is the sept at revel with a tense sort of
nervousness. "..so this is what a werewolf party's like," he mumbles under
his breath.

Wildfire is taken down from behind. He rolls and tosses Fight-For-Hope to
one side before getting back to his feet, eyeing Chaser for a short time
before turning to toss the theurge again.

Apocalypse, still yowling gleefully, comes charging out of the press of
wildly thrashing bodies and literally trips over Kaz.

Skyscraper poings backwards like a startled cat as the grass makes its
appearance, then flings back his head and howls louder in invitation and
welcome, bounding in puppyish leaps.

The Faerie Lights that Susan summoned vanish into the air, popping into
mist as they dissipate. The no-moon tosses her head back and laughs at her
packmate before shifting up into the warform and howling her welcome to
the Wyld.

Kaz rolls over and does a leaping dive over Apocalypse, popping to her
feet, and then falling down again.

Jonas lifts his shoulders in a mild shrug that's intended as answer to
Jarred's quip, but seems content to watch from his seat with that
resurfaced expression of bemusement. He does confide a few quiet words to
his elder.

Shadow-of-Blood snaps good-naturedly at his Stargazer packmate, then
starts barking at the strange appearance of the grass at the caern's
center.

Dancing-Fighter chuckles at Kaz, nodding her head as she sways, feeling
the groove of the somewhat alien music. After all, she's used to club
mixes and rap, not tribal stuff.

Fights-For-Hope is flung easily, not fighting but playing in a fighting
manner as is evident by his massiving laughing chuffs he throws into the
air. Again and again he leaps into Wildfire willingly tossed away and
occasionally tumbling with his elder before doing so. He looks like a cub
again, a rather larmungous cub perhaps, but playful none the less.

Child-Holder bursts into Crinos, howling joyfully. She continues to weave
between the trees, calling to Luna, Gaia and Pegasus as the Wyld riote
continues. ~We hear you, we see you, come come to us! We hear you, we see
you, come, come to us!~ she singsongs in the Mother Tongue.

Salem takes a breath and turns a golden eye down at Quentin. His voice
rumbles out in coarse, crinos-accented English. "Howl!" he manages, half
in command, half in encouragement.

Road-Rage busily weaves his way through the massive crowd of dancing
fuzzies. Just as he gets past the boulder's remains he is suddenly past
his eyeballs in grass. He slips here and there back into the dancing, even
pacing his stride with the beat and putting a little spring in his step.
Apparently seeking out Sepdet, just to say hi.

Raven flops back down beside Jarred for a moment, panting, her eyes
widened with delerious exhaltation, watching the Wyld emerge. "Y'didn't
tell me they had -dancing,-" she half-admonishes between breaths.

Bitter Cup laughs aloud, the sound a strange cross of chuff and bark in
her current form. Taking one of the newly-grown blades of grass with her
right hand, she plucks it and waves it through the air like a rapier, the
unnaturally-wide blade curling with the passage of air. ~The Wyld is
welcomed!~

Richard yells and starts to howl, shifting up in to war form, a couple of
undedicated shoes popping loudly off his feet. He looks up and yells at
the sky, almost unaware of the mass around him. Finishing, he takes a huge
breath and looks down and around, finding his tribemates.

Chance weaves skillfully in and out of legs everywhere, tripping dancers
with practiced efficiency as he chuffs his amusement.

Rags, while shaking his booty, mixes in the moves of another dance: hands
held out in front, palms down, then palms up, then crossed over his chest,
then on hips, then on his head.

Apocalypse scrambles to her feet, laughing wildly. He lunges at Kaz and
Aiyana both, trying to grab both Gnawers in a bear-hug. Let them all
stagger around together.

Stephen slows his spinning until finally he comes to a stop, seated on the
ground and weaving back and forth slightly, the dizziness obvious. He
leans forward and beats his hands on the ground in time.

Sepdet is not exactly holding still for greetings, but gives Road-Rage's
ear a yank before tumbling and quite disappearing into the sudden
profusion of greenery. She rises to her feet beside Andrea a moment later,
ghost of a coyote grin toying at the corners of her mouth.

Rheen grins at Peggy and grabs her hands, whirling her around in a circle.
As centrifical force takes its effect, she soon becomes more than a little
dizzy and lets the poor girl go. Once she has her equilibrium back, more
or less, she moves out into something more like a pre-coreagraphed dance,
arms and hands whirling, thier momentum pulling the rest of her along for
the ride. So intense is her concentration on the joy of the motion, she
doesn't notice the grass until she is right next to it. Suddenly, she
stops, staring in amazement.

Dancing-Fighter gahs as she's grabbed, a growly laugh rumbling forth from
within her chest. ~This is kinda cool...~

Layne capers with the enthusiasm of a young child in the tall grass,
throwing arms out to either side to grasp at handfulls of the thick
blades. She continues to twist and twirl, humming a rumbling beat in her
throat, tuning herself to the caern's new pulse.

Golden-Eyes dances around Seirian for a moment before she meanders towards
Tobin. She leaps around him as he beats on the drum. A call rises to her
throat in this spiritual moment that fills the cearn. The Fianna finally
falls to the ground, rolling about with her paws weaving in the air.

Given as Kaz is still on the ground, this is difficult, but she lurches to
her feet and, laughing still, bearhugs the Fang, and her tribemate.
"Welcome!" she bawls, as loudly as possible, into the air. And, hopefully,
not into people's ears.

Eye-of-Ra runs her throat hoarse with the intensity of her howls, dancing
as best as one can in hispo. Which is to say a lot of enthusiastic,
dog-like bounding with a hit more grace.

"Ah," Jonas mouths to Jarred, though there's still a dubious edge to his
expression as he looks on.

Brigid's head turns in dance, eyes opening at the cry to see the grass
being waved in the air. Pale eyes lighting with the brightest of grins,
she lets out joyful howl and whirls back towards Tobin, not quite seeing
the Fianna on the ground near him and stumbling over her. Hitting the
ground, she rolls over, sees who she tripped over, and laughs sunnily,
something she hasn't done in a long time.

Tobin is first danced around by and then is dancing around Golden-Eyes,
still beating his drum and stomping his feet. When he notices the
supernaturally growing grass he throws back his head and howls in his
homid throat. Sounds pretty good for homid, really. He neatly hops over
Brigid.

Sun-Stare is a silent sentinel at the edge of the revelry, shifting her
focus between the silent forest and the rowdy sept members. She seems to
approve, but does not join in.

Road-Rage takes an ear yank as a painful hello and continues his bouncing
through the group. Good god the heavy metal ahroun cub is bouncing, the
world must be ending. Not to let his elder get away with an eartug, he
manages to give her a legbump on the way by the next time he finds her.

Seirian lets out one more long howl, ending it in a series of wild yips of
exuberant welcome and spreading her red-furred arms wide as if to hug
whatever intangible force is about.

Dena, feet occasionally dancing briefly to some internal beat that doesn't
seem to match any other beat wandering about, remains as a guard, and a
watcher, glaring into the forest.

Peggy spins around until she's reeling, and gives up on the dancing, and
sings a snatch of the first thing that comes into her head: "Jerusalem".
After a second she stops, a slight flush belying her embarrassment, but
her verses are lost in the cacophony, so once she's regained her courage
she begins simply shouting random things. "ECHO!" "HELLO!" "I AM PEGGY
BUNTING!" "THE ACCELERATION OF AN OBJECT AS PRODUCED BY A NET FORCE IS
DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL TO THE MAGNITUDE OF THE NET FORCE, IN THE SAME
DIRECTION OF THE NET FORCE, AND IS INVERSELY PROPORTIONAL TO THE MASS OF
THE OBJECT!"

Rather swept up in the moment and smiling ferally, the Walker Elder tips
his head back and roars out to the Wyld in the spirit's language, *Get
your ass out here, Wyld!*

Quentin half-stumbles back a bit at that demand from the other Glass
Walker, a hint of anger glinting in his own green eyes as he glares back
up towards the crinos.. and then he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes
and drawing on all the confusion, pain, and sheer frustration of the last
week into him. And he howls-- shifting as he does so, breaking upwards
from homid form and erupting in a cascade of black and patterned fur into
his own war-form with an echoing howl torn from the very depths of his
heart to mingle with the others. It may not hold a candle to many of the
others, but it's his, and uniquely so.

Bitter Cup's ears tilts toward Peggy. Suddenly, the Voice of the Goddess
begins laughing all over again.

Yi ends up in the warform, and howls out the last of her calling to the
Wyld.

Chance just flat-out takes Tobin down, planting dark paw prints all over
his back. and legs.

Salem lets out another howl, less thunderous than the first, then looks
around. He notes the grown grass with a bared-tooth expression of
satisfaction, then glances over toward the Theurges. The look he gives
Sepdet in particular is a rueful one. Finally, leaving Quentin behind with
his packmates, the Walker starts weaving his way through the crowd toward
the rocky outcrop. He snaps his jaws a few times on the air.

Wildfire, in mid-toss of Fights-For-Hope, pauses at the Physics lesson. He
shrugs that kernal of knowledge away, then proceeds to finish tossing the
theurge again.

Robert actually laughs as he sees the grass, then he slows down his
dancing for a bit until he hears Peggy. He chuckles again, giving the cub
a broad wink.


At the Rock Outcropping

The caern flattens out here, a more stable and solid area than around the
steam vents or even the Walk's center. The grass that once surrounded the
single rocky outcropping here is gone and replaced with nothing but
infertile earth. The outcropping is an oval slab of rock jutting out of
the ground at a slight angle, ending up only about a foot above the
ground. With its slight rise reaching generally towards the center, the
rock slab seems to form a natural dais, a platform just a little above the
level of the rest of the caern. The slab's purity has been defiled. It is
now battered, chipped, cracked, and has obscene glyphs, passages, and
drawing chiseled into it.

The old growth forest surrounding the caern has been hewn down out to
150', leaving only stumps as tombstones for the mighty trees that once
sheltered the caern. The ground has been salted and otherwise rendered
poisonous to anything that might otherwise grow.

The caern circles away from the walls east, towards the swirling area, and
south, towards the steam vents; the center is southeast of here. A
dangerously slippery, muddy trail winds up towards the rim of the caern
from here. One false step could result in tragedy.


At the center, Nightfire looks over in confusion at all the strange talk.
He, too, seems affected by the mood in the caern, but he isn't laughing.
He's tense, edgy. He doesn't seem on the verge of killing anyone, but even
the evening's levity doesn't seem enough to mitigate the moon's effect on
him tonight.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope laughs openly again at Wildfire as his
quizical half-pause and decides its time to turn the tables a bit and
takes on the hispo form. He then charges forward head down and flips
Wildfire into the air.

At the center, Fake-Sight's dancestep slows slightly as he blinks slowly,
regarding Peggy with some confusion. He looks around, trying to gauge what
his reaction should be. Soon, he snorts and shakes it off, continuing in
the call.

At the center, Sepdet gives Andrea a delighted glance. Who knows when she
heard that last. But apart from shoulders heaving in silent pants, she's
become an object at rest. She touches one of the improbable green shoots
in a silent greeting, and waits.

At the center, Tobin oofs! as he's knocked over. Good thing he's already
wearing black, so the mud won't show as much. His drum vanishes into that
bit of his spirit it's Dedicated to, and he tustles happily with Chance.

At the center, Road-Rage makes it a point to sneak up behind someone who
isn't paying attention, and howl behind them as loud as he can manage. Its
definitely unigue, mostly just noise, but somewhere in there is mention of
failing physics in high school and rock on Wyld spirit types. He's a cub,
what do you expect?

At the center, Dancing-Fighter does her best to dance in crinos, without
tipping over and landing muzzle-first on the ground. She spins around a
couple times, actually daring to tilt her head back and let out a quick
howl or two.

At the center, Peggy shrinks halfway to nothing upon realizing that at
least a few people in the group heard her. When she resumes shouting
again, it's rather quieter.

At the center, Leonard shifts up into crinos, ear-splitting yells giving
way to lower growls which grow into huge, deep howls of victory and
defiance.

At the center, Rheen continues to stare at the grass, hesitantly reaching
out a finger toward one of the green blades. Suddenly, she shoots up a few
feet, howling something incomprehensible but filled with raw emotion out
into the night.

At the center, Golden-Eyes wiggles her back against the newly grown grass
beneath her, exhibiting mush more happiness that has never perhaps has
been seen on this Fianna ever before. As Tobin's rythmic drum beat stops
suddenly short, Golden-Eyes tilts her head as she looks acros to the Fang.
She rolls up to her paws as she looks to Chaser, lightly tilting her head.
Then she flicker her ears before she beings her leaping and bouncing
about.

At the center, The WalkerGaian tango continues with an almost frenzied
speed and passion. Some of the moves so close and furious that more
conservative types might begin to wonder about the validity of this
'dance'.

At the center, Sun-Stare eyes the new shoots of grass beneath her paws
with some startlement; she can't help herself, as instinct takes over and
she drops to roll herself in the new vegetation thoroughly. After a few
contented snorts, she climbs back to her feet and continues her watch.

At the center, Layne falls back in exhaustion, finally, tumbling--and
disappearing--into the strange new greenery. The Fianna stares up at the
darkening sky, heart thumping in her ears.

At the center, Brigid just lays there on the ground for a moment, laughing
as she watches Chance and Tobin with amusement, one hand draped over her
middle.

At the center, Its buisness as usual between the two packies, perhaps a
bit lost in the rush of this dance, but hey, they look awesome together.
Alicia and John finishes with one final dip, her hair sprawling about the
ground, both breathing heavily for a bit. ".. Woah."

At the center, Shadow Eyes takes a form probably more pleasing to a Wyld
spirit and capers about some more, howling and yipping.

At the center, Dane leans up against a rock and begins singing softly. "If
my words did glow, with the gold of sunshine/And my tunes were played on
the harp unstrung/Would you hear my voice, come through the music/Would
you hold it near, as it were your own?"

At the center, Wildfire gets slowly to his feet, his recent trials showing
their wear upon him for the moment. He lunges at Fights-For-Hope, changing
the dance from freestyle to the Bump (and tackle).

Salem waits a few more moments. When the revelry doesn't show any sign of
slowing down, the Glass Walker bellows out at the top of his lungs, ~SEPT
OF THE HIDDEN WALK!~

At the center, Eye-of-Ra jerks her paws up in a short moment of
ungainliness, and pauses in her cavorting to study the grass. Calls for
another round of howled singing.

At the center, Quentin's head drops down once more as the last of that
howl fades from his voice, a wolfish sort of grin allowing his tongue to
loll out a bit. That actually felt pretty good. Catching a glimpse of
Salem vanishing once more through the crowd, he drops back a step to the
edge of things and looks around a bit.. then down at himself. Hm.
Hopefully he can get back to homid.

At the center, Kaz, still bearhugging, jerks slightly, and cranes her head
to look at Salem.

At the center, Skyscraper flings himself to the ground next to John and
Alicia, tongue lolling, ears up and eyes bright, looking more cheerful
than he has in months.

At the center, Child-Holder buries both paws, then her nose in the fresh
greenery, inhaling deeply as she slows her motions, then stops. Salem's
call gets her attention, and she half-turns her head towards him.

At the center, Seirian drops back down into homid and her crouch, smiling
from ear to ear. Glancing over towards Dane, she cocks her head to one
side and listens to his words a moment. Salem's bellow quickly grabs her
attention, though, and she sharply turns her attention towards him.

At the center, Tumbleweed spasms as she slips down into the lupis skin to
watch.

At the center, Tobin abruptly stops tussling with Chance and tilts his
head to gaze curiously at Salem.

At the center, Three-Blades pants lightly, but slips back to her Wendigo
packmate and looks up at Salem.

At the center, Jarred lifts a brow at the Glasswalker, clearly waiting.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope takes the lunge, waiting for it and rolling
back with it. The two tumble into John and Alicia who were standing
nearby, bownling them over before the tumbling ends with Wildfire and
Fights falling away from each other.

At the center, John just holds Alicia in that pose for a moment, panting
with a somewhat disturbingly rough edge to the breaths taken in. Though he
gives it no heed. Sweat beads and falls, and then he hoists Alicia back
up, kissing her on the cheek, thanking her for the dance. Exhausted. He
puts his hands on his hips as he tries to get his breath back, and watches
Salem.

At the center, Eamon finally winds his dance down and looks over towards
Salem.

At the center, Leonard pauses in his merrymaking, looking up at the big
ahroun.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter perks an ear, glancing towards Salem,
squinting curiosly at the Garou.

At the center, Road-Rage is for some reason, not dancing any more. Too
bad, he was just starting to have fun. Just as well, he stows away in the
tall grass and settles in to figure on what all the shouting is about.

At the center, Raven jerks from watching the reverie, offering Salem her
full attention.

At the center, Chaser shakes water from her fur and watches Salem,
narrowing her eyes.

At the center, Alicia turns and glances over to Salem as she takes in a
deep breath, bumping shoulders against John slightly, panting. She looks
out of breath, butin a good way.

At the center, Golden-Eyes looks up to Salem. Her eyes flickering with
mirth as she bares a feral smile and slowly sinks to her flanks with
exhaution.

At the center, Fake-Sight stops as the voice cuts through the mayhem,
looking over at its source. He throws his head back and barks, a deep
throaty noise. Looking around, he moves away from the center, moving
slowly back to where he stood previously, greeting Alicia with a nod.

At the center, With the ruckus of the dance through, Jonas likewise turns
his attention to Salem -- and finally, finally, there's a trace of
anticipation in those dark eyes.

At the center, John, by contrast, looks significantly more worn out than
his younger partner.

The Glass Walker, looking more Shadow Lordish than ever in the war form,
stares over the gathering with bared teeth. Then, quite deliberately, he
shifts down to glabro and reaches into his coat. From an inside pocket he
removes a long curve of rib, the bone scoured clean of meat. In a quieter,
but still carrying, baritone, Salem announces, ~As wolves and man break
bones apart to bring forth the rich marrow locked inside, so I crack this
bone so that truth may be brought before our people.~ He snaps the rib in
two, then, and adds, ~The Cracking has begun. Those who are new to the
Sept, come forward and be recognized.~

At the center, Shadow-of-Blood, calming down, turns to look up at Salem.
He settles down eventually into a more regal pose.

At the center, Wildfire gets to his feet as Salem plays the role of the
party-pooper. Tongue lolling, he rejoins his pack, settles in where he had
been behind them, and collapses onto the ground to rest.

At the center, Brigid, laid out on her back, looks upside down towards
Salem before sitting up to listen intently.

At the center, Raven now turns Jarred an expectant look.

At the center, With a loud panting huffing, Fights-For-Hope pushes up to
his feet as Salem takes on the role of truthcatcher eagerly waiting.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter blinks and looks around for Kaz. ~New to
the Sept? That doesn't mean I have to go up there, does it?~ She sounds
worried, even a touch angry.

At the center, Jarred smiles and leans down to whisper in his cub's ear.

At the center, Layne eventually rolls onto her stomach, parting the grass
with some effort to watch Salem and the bone-cracking.

At the center, Jonas rises. Steps forward.

At the center, Ceylan, looking entirely unhappy to be in the spotlight,
announces herself as Ceylan Kemal, ~Rited at this Sept as Brings the
Battle to the Foe. Warrior of the Black Furies, and Guardian.~

Kaz, meanwhile, manages not to smirk at Aiyana. "That'd be you, yeah. Go
to it."

At the center, Dancing-Fighter's ears folds back and she hunches down,
tail tucking itself between her legs a bit. ~Naw, I think I'll just stay
back here and watch. It's much safer that way.~

At the center, Tatt begins to pace restlessly along the outskirts,
scenting the wind. Agitated.

At the center, Tumbleweed settles down on the largest fragment of a
sundered boulder, paws folded beneath her head. She perks her ears
forward, listening with evident interest.

At the center, Kaz tells Aiyana, gently but firmly, "Go. Now. No one will
eat you."

At the center, Child-Holder turns her face outwards again, ears cocked
back to catch the introductions.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter lets out a growlish sigh and moves towards
where Salem is standing, not quite sure what to do once she gets there.

At the center, Sepdet jabs a taloned finger towards Road-Rage and gestures
sharply towards Salem.

At the center, Raven nods at Jarred and also pushes to her feet to join
the others introducing themselves.

At the center, the shift down into his breed form is easier than Quentin
had feared, silently thanking his brief practice in figuring this whole
'shifting' thing out as he settles back to lean his weight to one leg.
Both arms folding across his chest, as he glances about to try and figure
out what's going on now.

At the center, Richard closes his eyes and lets out a loud raspy breath,
slowly shifting back to human form. Looking over at Alicia, he gets the
nod and he starts to make his way forward to Salem's position. He doesn't
make too much eye contact, careful to respect others spaces as he moves
through the crowd. Noticing Aiyana, he smiles slightly, stepping beside
her.

At the center, Seirian laces her fingers together over her bent knees and
watches, listening, some of her tenseness returning.

At the center, Skyscraper reaches out to tap Quentin with one huge claw,
and points at Salem. "You're up," he growls through his wolven muzzle.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter turns and grins to Rich, her attitude
lightening once she sees a familiar face up there with her. Patiently, she
waits for others to go before she works up the courage to.

At the center, Jonas wanders up to the foot of the rock, but no further;
offers polite nods to the intervening Garou as he goes. Once he's there,
he turns, faces the sept, and after clearing his throat behind a
loose-curled fist, calls, ~I am Jonas Savin, called Severs-Night,
half-moon of the Shadow Lords and heir to my grandfather Teodr
Sings-Lightning, of the Sept of the Shattered Oak. I have given chiminage
to join your fight, here, and been accepted by the honorable Jarred
Storm-Singer.~

At the center, Alicia nudges Richard some, motioning him forward.

At the center, Raven's brow arches as Jonas makes his tribe known, and
looks itching to say something to him, but instead steps forward after
him, still panting slightly from the dance, but offering a slight smile.
"Raven Chase Hunter, Ahroun cub of the Shadow Lords."

At the center, Apocalypse bounds up in Crinos form, pale-furred and
double-tailed, her loins girded with Superman Underoos. The Silver Fang
takes the bones and turns a wolfish grin onto the Sept. ~Defies the
Apocalypse is what I'm called, Galliard of the First Tribe, a Metis as you
can see, and a Cliath. I came from the Sept of the Green back east, I
thank you for the honor of letting me fight by your side, and I hope I can
fight with you and hear your tales for many years to come!~

At the center, Jonas waits for Raven to offer her own introduction, and,
with eminent politeness, makes gentlemanly gesture of her to proceed
before him.

At the center, Kaz gives the metis a thumb's up.

At the center, Alicia whistles loudly for Apocalypse when she gets up
there.

At the center, Tobin gets back to his feet and surreptitiously brushes
himself off. He stands quietly now, making note of all the new faces
coming forward to introduce themselves. He smiles widely as Ceylan
announces her new rank.

At the center, Brigid grins up at the metis Fang and raises both hands in
a mock-cheer, offering up a silent 'Woo!'

At the center, Sepdet observes the Shadow Lord she doesn't recognize
thoughtfully, but is still keeping half an eye upon her cub.

At the center, Raven grins up at Jonas and leads the way back to Jarred,
seating herself and watching the rest of the proceedings quietly.

At the center, Road-Rage was doing his best to go unnoticed, but elders
have that dang ability to find him, everywhere. He wanders in the general
direction of Salem, in the area at least. Dang public gather.. er. Yeah.
The rather egyptian looking cub makes his intro, really. He would be
Road-Rage, or Geoff. Ahroun cub with the Silent Striders, as if his form
didn't give it away. Well yeah, thats him. And sorry about all the tire
marks on that road near the farmhouse, my bad. He makes his way hastily
out of view, never good at this public thing.

At the center, Jonas returns behind Raven to where Jarred's made room.

At the center, Robert watches the introductions carefully, studying each
person as they introduce themselves and then rejoin the group.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter rises to her full height, glancing around
nervously and giving Kaz a hint of a smile before she begins to speak. ~I
am Aiyana, also known as Fights-While-She-Dances, full moon cub of the
Bone Gnawers,~ she states in a proud voice.

At the center, Rheen glances nervously over to Richard and Peggy then
scans the crowd for Alicia, wondering if she counts, having never been to
a sept-wide moot before.

At the center, Quentin gives a slight jump as that talon taps against his
shoulder, and he glances up towards Skyscraper's with a startled look..
and then a slightly wan smile as he recognizes him. There couldn't be
another werewolf in the bunch with quite so much metal driven through
various parts of his head. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself
before walking along forward with the others apparently introducing
themselves. "Quentin Michaels," he calls out then, managing somehow to
banish the nervousness from his voice for the moment, "Galliard cub of the
Glass Walkers."

At the center, Richard takes his place in line and when its his turn, he
steps up to the foot of the rock and turns, smiling slightly. He clears
his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth. His voice is raspy, deep and
tinged with a Southern accent as he introduces himself. "Sept of the
Hidden Walk, I'm a new recruit. I'm Richard Mobley, Galliard cub of the
Children of Gaia. I'm learning with my cousin Alicia." He pauses, adding
"Guards-the-Flame-rhya. I hope to learn quickly so I can help out." He
nods and returns to where he was standing.

At the center, Kaz gives Aiyana an even bigger thumb's up. And, even, a
whistle.

At the center, Three-Blades barks out at Aiyana too, in show of support.

At the center, Alicia grins at Richard and bops him on the shoulder,
winking.

At the center, Rheen watches intently as some of the unfarmiliar faces go
up to introduce themselves, then grins excitedly as her 'brother' moves
forward to take his own turn.

At the center, Golden-Eyes sits quietly as she watches the new faces, some
of them not quite as new as others. To those she doesn't know, she hopes
to get to know sometime in the future. Their faces are noted mindfully as
she sits back and watches.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter would blush, if it wasn't for the fur. She
makes her way back to the other Gnawers and slumps down on the soft grass.
~Man, felt like I was giving speeches in school again.~

At the center, John - still a little flushed in the face - nods
approvingly at Quentin's introduction.

At the center, Bitter Cup also watches the faces of each new introduction,
though her eyes linger on the new Gaian cub.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra studies each Garou as they introduce themselves
intently, perhaps marking their more memorable features. She would raise a
brow as Road-Rage brushes through his introduction, and whines quietly at
Sepdet in question at how their cub is faring lately.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope seems pleased at all the new arrivals. Not
too much at the arrivals themselves, but just at all the support the Sept
is getting from fresh blood.

At the center, Skyscraper chuffs in encouraging approval at Quentin.

At the center, Kaz grins at Quentin, then chortles at Aiyana. "Gotta be
all outgoin' an' shit, that's all."

At the center, Tobin decides to follow Ceylan's lead and steps forward,
shifting up to Glabro. ~I am a new /Cliath/ to the sept. Rite-named by
this Sept as Calls-the-Spirits-To-Battle, Cliath Theurge of the First
Tribe!~ He calls out his new name proudly before stepping down.

At the center, Sepdet exhales at Road-rage's sketchy introduction, giving
him a skeptical grimace. ~Needs work,~ she replies quietly to Raeye,
stating the obvious.

At the center, Kaz yells, "And about fuckin' /time/," in Tobin's general
direction.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter snorts. ~I'll save my outgoing nature for
battle. When I need it...~

At the center, "Bloody right!" Brigid echoes, grinning like there's no
tomorrow.

At the center, Road-Rage makes his way off stage fast, terrible when it
comes to speaking to groups. Thats pretty obvious too. Yeah well, he
scrambles off to a dark corner where he'll blend in. Striders are supposed
to be loners anyway, right?

At the center, Sepdet relaxes again as Tobin holds forth.

At the center, A terribly amused smile grips Jonas' lips as the Silver
Fangs make their introductions, and he whispers a few quiet words to Raven
before falling silent and attentive again.

At the center, Skyscraper adds to Tobin's applause with a low bark, too.

At the center, Tumbleweed yips as Tobin makes his announcement of rank.
She glances from left to right, self-conscious.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope offers a loud chuff towards Kaz when she
calls out. ~Agreed.~

At the center, Seeker nods at Sepdet.

At the center, Quentin lets himself flicker a look around the rest of the
gathering, shifting a bit where he stands.. though the few smiles and
looks of approval he gets straighten his back slightly. It's with just a
bit less nervousness that he walked out that he slinks back out of the way
again, this time to lurk near Skyscraper.

At the center, Golden-Eyes jumps up after Tobin, still in dire form. She
speaks in Garou and loud enough for everyone to hear, ~I am also a new
Cliath. Rited name is Spirit's Touch, Theurge of Fianna.~ Then she pounces
happily back to her spot.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra briefly tracks Road-Rage's flight, then chuffs
lightly to Sepdet, in dry amusement.

At the center, Kaz pumps her fist at Aubrey.

Salem waits a few moments, holding the two pieces of rib in his hand. When
no one else comes up to present themselves -- and to be sure there was a
gleam of pride there when Quentin stepped up -- he speaks again. ~Those
who have challenged, or wish to challenge, speak up now, and make
yourselves heard!~

At the center, Skyscraper, still sprawled on the ground, noses Quentin as
the cub resumes lurkage, and thumps his tail once. His body language says
that he wishes a certain other Walker cub was present, too.

At the center, Kaz eyes John.

At the center, Seirian grins over at Golden-Eyes proudly and thrusts a
fist in the air.

At the center, Nightfire's head comes up as Salem speaks again, and slowly
the master of the challenge makes his way up to take the bones.

At the center, Raven glances to Jonas, belatedly, as he murmurs something
to her, and quirks a brow in slight confusion.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter hunches over, snorting as a piece of grass
tickles her nose. She keeps an eye on the goings-on even as a yawn works
itself out of her muzzle.

At the center, Sun-Stare eyes the Strider cub's introduction from afar,
and grunts roughly, raising her scarred voice enough to carry from the
outskirts of the moot. ~Just because you're a Strider don't mean you gotta
be SILENT.~ She snorts once, snaps her jaws in satisfaction, and goes back
to her watch.

At the center, Road-Rage decides on a hasty retreat, bad enough the moon
is almost perfectly full as it is. Maybe the world just caught him on a
bad day. One way or the other, he slides up to the steam vents with
remarkable silence. Maybe he's learned something from his elders after
all.

Salem inclines his head toward the wolf-born Child of Gaia as he gives the
bones over to Nightfire.

At the center, John folds his arms, only now getting his breath back. He
shoots Kaz a look for a moment, but then returns to just watching
Nightfire take the bones.

At the center, Eamon cheers and whistles as Aubrey reintroduces herself.

At the center, Child-Holder watches Road-Rage leave, then returns her gaze
outward.

At the center, Layne is a silent spectator as the new additions introduce
themselves, one-by-one. When Golden-Eyes leaps up to announce her
successful rite, she's sure to catch the young cliath's attention and
offer a toothy grin of approval.

At the center, Nightfire holds the bones up in one clawed hand as he scans
the crowd. ~Walks-the-Thin-Ice. You have a challenge to issue.~

At the center, Richard looks back and crouches, taking a seat with a soft
'oof.' He rubs his feet on the grass, trying to get some of the mud off.
Frowning, he looks towards the center of the caern and he mouths something
to himself, the word 'shoes' formed by his lips. He looks up at the
announcement of challenges, focusing on Nightfire and then the one called
Thin-Ice.

At the center, Alicia settles herself down next to Richard, motioning
Rheen and Peggy over as well.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra dips her head at Sepdet, but at the mention of
Challenging her gaze singles out John and remains on the Walker Elder.

At the center, Chaser's ears flatten back, and she tenses, baring her
teeth as she watches. She is restless, pacing the edges of the gathering.

At the center, Quentin settles down in a light crouch beside where
Skyscraper's sprawled, offering a slight smile back to him at the nosing
and reaching out as though to scratch his ears. He can't help it, he's had
the urge to do that to someone all night, war-form or not.

At the center, Rheen weaves her way through the crows, careful as she can
not to block anyone's view for too long. She plops down by her mentor and
packmates, and settles herself to watch.

By the steam vents, Road-Rage only pauses momentarily up at the vents
before slipping away into the steam. Once back into the forest, he breaks
into a dead out run. Off to do.. whatever it is that angsty Strider cubs
do in their spare time.

At the center, Stephen quietly looks on, remaining sitting quietly. His
gaze falls briefly on Nightfire and then moves away, scanning the crowd
for the challenger. The earlier smile is now replaced with a look of calm.

At the center, John lifts his head, rising into Crinos smoothly as he
takes a few steps forward. The IceWalker looks over to Kaz, and calls out
lowly, ~I, Walks-Thin-Ice, Elder of the Glass Walkers, Alpha of Synthesis,
Full-moon cliath... challenge for rank, Ears. Fostern Galliard, Elder of
the Bone Gnawers and Alpha of Trouble.~

At the center, Three-Blades' ears perk forward at John's challenge.
Surprise? Probably.

At the center, Kaz glances at Nightire. "Want me to whip out the terms
right here an' now?"

At the center, Alicia wraps an arm around Rheen, tugging her close.

At the center, Little Bear looks at John furry eyebrow arching in interest.

At the center, Dancing-Fighter blinks and looks towards Kaz, wondering
what's about to happen.

At the center, Nightfire inclines his head to the Bone Gnawer. ~If you are
prepared to offer them.~

Salem folds his arms across his chest, his good eye gleaming as he looks
from John to Kaz.

At the center, Skyscraper permits Quentin the touch, but with an amused
sideways glance that says, even to a cub who can't yet speak the Mother's
Tongue, that Quentin had better not get used to petting elders. He watches
his alpha's challenge with great interest, as well.

At the center, Faces-Shadows crosses his arms and tilts his head, watching
this exchange with some interest.

At the center, Sepdet nods quietly. ~Also about time,~ she murmurs, only a
little grudgingly.

At the center, Quentin's fingers slip away after that brief ear-scratch,
and he offers a slightly sheepish grin back towards Skyscraper. "Sorry,"
he murmurs, "Just had to do that at least /once/." That urge satiated, his
head raises to consider what's going on.

At the center, "Oh, yeah, sure," Kaz tells Nightfire, cheerfully. "Sure
am. John, Walks Thin Ice, Ahroun, Alpha of your own pack, Mr. Temporary
Walker Elder Who Ain't No /Temporary/ Elder, I accept. With glee, even.
Anyways. So form a pack that ain't your own, and hunt down some Dancers.
You gotta contribute strategy, weapons, brains, brawn... but /you/ have to
/follow your pack's orders/. Learn how t'follow, f'once."

At the center, Tumbleweed's good cheer melts away. She watches with sombre
gravity.

At the center, Richard grunts as he moves so that he's on his knees,
rising up slightly to get a better view of the proceedings.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra, for some reason, seems heartened by Sepdet's
remark, her tail giving a lazy wag.

At the center, Robert raises an eyebrow as the terms are mentioned, then
gives a little half-shrug.

At the center, Tobin, back in homid again, watching the proceedings with
keen interest, though for some reason he throws an occassional glance over
his shoulder.

At the center, Three-Blades splays her ears at Kaz's terms of challenge.
She glances back up at John, and then flicks both ears before settling.
~Won't be too hard for him,~ she says quietly to herself.

At the center, Bemusement digs its way into Jonas' expression once more,
and then he's drifting a look toward Nightflash.

At the center, The Walker Ahroun inclines his head respectfully to the
Gnawer Elder in submission, with only a /hint/ of squashed pride. The
terms haven't come as a surprise, but the point behind the Challenge still
chafes slightly. He, too, looks to Nightfire. ~These terms are more than
fair.~ He eyes Chaser, now. ~I will seek out those looking to spill Dancer
blood, and who will ensure the spirit of the Challenge is maintained.~

At the center, Little Bear gives a wide, wolfish grin at that.

At the center, Dane hmms thoughtfully.

At the center, Nightfire says, ~Ears-to-the-Ground has requested two full
turnings of the moon for your challenge. You have until the day of
equal-time, the night of Keres, to complete your challenge to her
satisfaction. Tempered-Blade,~ he calls, looking for the Fianna. ~Issue
your challenge.~

At the center, Brigid raises both eyebrows quietly and hugs her knees to
her chest as she listens.

At the center, Tempered-Blade turns to face the entire sept as she
announces her challenge. ~I am Tempered-Blade, Ragabash of the Fianna,
child of Uktena and member of Ouroboros. Eamon Ever-Grinning, I challenge
you for the right to stand with the Sept as a Fostern.~

At the center, Seirian takes a bit more interest in things at this point,
looking between her tribemates intently.

At the center, Layne also glances up, sharply, at Tempered-Blade's
announcement, a modicum of surprise showing on the halfmoon's features.
She glances tightly between her two named tribesmates, waiting for Eamon's
reply.

At the center, Eamon stands and faces Tempered-Blade. "The challenge is
accepted. You are to compose an epic, song or poem, your choice, telling
the tale of the fall and re-taking of this caern. It will be entertaining
and emotional, as a Fianna story should be. You have one month to compose
it, then recite it to the sept. If it's sufficiently glorious and
enthralling, you will be recognized among the ranks of Fostern."

At the center, Tempered-Blade flicks a grin at the Sept. ~Oh, count on
it,~ she returns to the fostern. She then dips her head to Nightfire and
returns to her pack.

At the center, Shifting down, back into homid, John gives a very faint
noise of approval.

At the center, Kaz says, "/Huh/," extremely intently, in Susan's
direction.

At the center, Seirian whistles lowly and appreciatively as the terms are
set forth, giving a light grin.

At the center, Wildfire seems to like that idea of a challenge, possibly
seen in the not quite so deep frown he's wearing.

At the center, Eamon sits back down, giving a wink and a grin to Seirian.

At the center, Nightfire says, ~Though the tale will be told to the entire
Sept, it will be Ever-Grinning who shall judge its worthiness.~ Again, the
Gaian's eyes scan the crowd. This time they fall on Sepdet. ~I am
Nightfire, Ahroun of Her Children. Of all those I could challenge here,
you are the one to whom I must prove myself. I challenge Hope-Star of the
Silent Striders for the rank of Adren.~

At the center, Sepdet goes very still. There is a long silence during
which she regards the Gaian levelly, gaze fixed upon him like the cold
glint of the moon.

At the center, Kaz watches Sepdet as if judging her, quite intently.

At the center, Little Bear blinks, turning his stare on the big ahroun as
well. It is not a friendly stare.

At the center, Dane looks from Nightfire to Sepdet thoughtfully.

At the center, John blinks, too, then tilts his head as he watches Sepdet
- openly curious.

At the center, Stephen looks a bit taken aback at the challenge. He leans
forward waiting patiently for Sepdet's response.

At the center, Brigid sits very still, watching with slightly widened eyes
and a tight grip on her knees.

At the center, Shadow-of-Blood tilts his head at Sepdet, watching for her
reaction to his packmate's challenge.

At the center, Seeker perks up a bit, looking from Nightfire to Sepdet
with interest.

Salem simply arches a brow.

At the center, Child-Holder glances over one shoulder as the challenge is
issued, then returns to watching the darkness.

At the center, Tobin very quietly stops breathing as Nightfire issues his
challenge. He watches Sepdet closely.

At the center, Tumbleweed rises to four legs, body tensed in anticipation.
Her eyes are fixed on Sepdet's position, watching for any movement that
might betray her answer.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra looks to Sepdet, but it is Nightfire she studies,
one ear left in wait for her Elder's reply.

At the center, Wildfire looks up now with obvious interest.

At the center, Alicia looks up slightly as she watches with keen interest.

At the center, Jonas stifles a yawn behind a loose-curled fist.

At the center, Sepdet says levelly, after letting the silence speak for
itself, ~You led the warriors well in the caern's greatest time of need,
and won glory in your pack's duel with our foes. You follow Unicorn's path
now.~ The emphasis on that last word is faint. ~I accept. I will let you
know when I have found an appropriate challenge.~

At the center, Kaz exhales, glad that she wasn't proven wrong.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope's intrest is piqued as Sepdet is challenged
by, and responds to the MotC.

At the center, Little Bear glances at Sepdet now, expression unreadable.

At the center, Tobin abruptly remembers that he needs air to survive and
starts breathing again. He relaxes just a bit at Sepdet's answer.

At the center, Robert nods at Sepdet's response, turning his head slightly
to look towards Nightfire once again, eyehbrow raised.

At the center, Seirian nods slowly as the challenge is accepted, humming a
very faint tune to herself and furrowing her brow a moment.

At the center, Golden-Eyes is quiet and posed. Her ears are splayed
forward on the top of her skull as she directions them towards Sepdet.

At the center, Nightfire dips his eyes in acknowledgement, and takes a
deep breath. He takes a moment to compose himself again before speaking.
~Those are all the challenges that have been brought before me.~ He looks
at the bones. ~Because of the events of these past months, I will allow
challenges to be issued here, this month only, even by those who have not
come to me in advance. Who here has a challenge to issue?~

At the center, Shadow Eyes shifts in his stance, chin coming up in a
determined pose.

At the center, Nightfire says, ~Fights-For-Hope, call your challenge.~

At the center, Fights-For-Hope waits for his turn to come and steps
forward, climing into the crinos form with a nod of thanks. Standing tall
and proudly and in doing so shows off the great scar covering his chest
gained in fighting for the caern. The Get of Fenris theurge then roars out
over the assembled. ~This Sept knows me and my deeds. I am
Fights-For-Hope. Theurge... Godi of the Get of Fenris. Once child of
Wolverine and once of Weasel, seeking to pack once again.~ He quickly
glances over a few people in the crowd, not seeming to be anyone specific.
~Tonight Owen Hollsinger, Wildfire, has returned from a challenge between
him and Chaser for eldership of the Get of Fenris. He was victorious and
so is our uncontested Jarl. With tonight's news that Owen is open from any
challenges... I challenged him, my elder and fostern of the Get of Fenris
for rank. He has spoken that I will have his answer soon.~ With this he
looks sternly over the caern once more settling on Wildfire, nods, and
waits.

At the center, Three-Blades eyes both her packmates.

At the center, Nightfire looks from Fights to his own packmate.

At the center, Wildfire gets up to his feet once more, sighing heavily as
he peers out over towards his tribe's lone theurge. ~Alright. Tke your
nose out of my ass for a minute. I know you and what you have done for
this Sept. I know you speak of Wisdom before all else, even in war, even
so far as to decry those who would follow Wolverine again. I accept your
challenge. I will give you the terms at a later day. Prepare yourself
well.~

At the center, Fights-For-Hope nods, drinking in Owen's words as if
searching for a clue, and calls out over to Wildfire with some humor
evident in his posture, ~I will be ready.~ He then looks to Nightfire for
approval before stepping down.

At the center, Nightfire looks back to Fights-For-Hope. ~Very well.~ He
looks again and, finding no other takers, hands the bones back to Salem
with a chuff of thanks. Then he returns to his packmates.

Salem takes the bones back with a nod, then addresses the gathering once
more. ~Those who have announcements for the Sept, please step forward.~

At the center, Fights-For-Hope steps down before Salem announces and moves
back to the crowd, dropping to his still massive lupine form.

At the center, Serendipity turns from her watch, and steps toward Salem.

Salem inclines his head toward the Fury and hands her the bones.

At the center, Wildfire simply settles back upon his haunches, nipping
Nightfire on the ear when he returns to his seat.

At the center, Nightfire snaps his jaws at Wildfire in sort-of-friendly,
ahroun-on-a-full-moon way.

At the center, The Fury takes the bones, and sweeps her glance around the
gathering. ~I've claimed Wardership, in case anyone was unaware. I thought
I should note that, to state the obvious, we're fairly vulnerable, given
the lack of wards, so, to again state the obvious, /be careful/, and make
sure to keep the Veil. Until we have Wards, everyone should consider
themselves Guardians for at least some of the time. Also, Kinfolk are
welcome, now, on the Bawn, those that can cope with our Rage. But /only/
if they have been cleared by their Tribal Elder, and /only/ if they do not
lead other humans to the area. If they come without announcement, they
will be chased away, just as the humans are, so make sure to speak with me
before escorting them here.~ She pauses, then adds, ~Groundskeeper has
been filled already. Child-Holder of the Furies and Rain-Cougar of the
Wendigo are sharing the position. They will specify their requirements
when they have consulted each other.~

At the center, Chaser watches Andrea through narrowed green eyes.

At the center, Sepdet raises her muzzle at the latter news, finally
rousing herself from pondering to focus on the speakers again.

At the center, Bitter Cup steps forward to take the bones. ~I'll be
brief,~ she says to the sept, as she turns. ~Wildfire has brought back
news from Western Eye. Their war is still desperate, with fighting every
evining. They know we have our own issues.~ Her the Gaian takes a
deliberate look around the caern, as if invoking those. ~But they will
take any aid we can send. If a pack or Garou wishes to go, come see me. I
would send them what aid we can spare.~ After a pause, Andrea adds, ~The
Council of Elders will be meeting, soon. I would that each tribe's elders
would stand before the others an introduce themselves at moot, so all know
who the sept looks to.~ Shaking her head, she adds, ~With the totem
discussion yet to come, I will save that for next, and merely ask that if
there has been any change in leadership, step forward before the Cracking
is complete.~ She hands the bones back to Salem. Brief? Okay, maybe for
Andrea.

At the center, Peacekeeper steps up, shifting up to the warform as he does
so, though he's careful not to tilt the little wooden box too much. ~I
have a present for the caern of the Hidden Walk, a fairly precious gift
that has cost me much in terms of favors called in and owed.~ He opens the
box and tilts it forward slightly. The contents look like little more than
a couple of perhaps 3-inch-long off-white slugs or leeches of some sort.
~These are Wyld Worms, borrowed for our need. They go through, taking that
which the Wyrm has destroyed, and renewing it, getting it ready for the
Wyld's re-creation.~ He crouches down and removes both creatures from the
box, putting them on the ground where they burrow in. ~They will help with
the renewal of the caern itself. Kill one, and you answer to me, and
likely the new Warder as well,~ he finishes as he stands back up. The box
is closed once again, and the athro steps back down.

At the center, There's a brief but noisy rustling from the enormous
grass-blades, as Layne rises from her seat at Andrea's announcement.
Stepping forward, the young woman assumes Glabro form, and issues the
following in the Mother's Tongue: ~I, Layne Lohan, Sith-Fhuil, Cliath and
Halfmoon of Stag's Brood, have claimed Eldership of the Fianna of our
Sept.~ She nods affirmatively toward Andrea, then turns to face the
gathered before returning to her seat.

At the center, Sepdet exhales as Robert delivers the precious, if
unappetizing-looking cargo. ~We'll watch over them,~ she murmurs.

At the center, Nightfire perks up in interest at the mention of these Wyld
Worms.

At the center, Brigid's eyes grow quite wide for a moment as she listens
to Robert and his gift with appreciative ears.

At the center, Child-Holder turns to get a look at the Wyld Worms, noting
their appearance, then returns to her previous position.

At the center, Skyscraper watches the wyld worms with great interest. Good
soil out of them soon? He sure hopes so.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope looks over the worms as they dig in with a
contented smile. ~Praises.~ is his only word.

At the center, Rides-Fire tilts an ear curiously toward the grubs as they
enter the soil, though he dips his eyes submissively before the athro.

At the center, Quentin looks around at everyone acting so thrilled over a
box of worms, frowning just a bit to himself. Missing the point, of
course, he just settles back and adds it to his list of questions for
afterwards.

At the center, The Fury's eyes widen, then narrow. Eventually, she says,
~Damn /right/, you'll answer to me, in addition to him. Thank you,
Robert-rhya, for them.~

At the center, Jonas stands quickly when he's recognized by Salem, though
doesn't bother to retrieve the bones from the Truthcatcher. "As part of my
chiminage to the sept," he says, "I've agreed to provide transportation
for those who do not drive, and have a difficult time getting around. I
have a truck. I have a phone. If you need a ride someplace, the Warder
knows how to reach me, and I can take you where you need to go."

At the center, Dane grins as he watches the worms dig in.

At the center, Stephen eyes the worms in amazement as they burrow into the
ground.

At the center, Layne strains forward to catch a glimpse of the Wyld
Creatures before they burrow into the earth, then turns a thoughtful gaze
up to Robert.

At the center, Wildfire perks up a little to look. Yup. They're worms. He
settles back down upon his stomach to rest a bit as the moot continues.

At the center, Three-Blades earperks, but from her position she doesn't
get to see much.

At the center, Nightfire studies the newest arrival as he introduces
himself, giving him a short welcoming bark.

At the center, Tobin watches the Wyld Worms in fascination, but otherwise
remains quiet.

At the center, Raven wrinkles her nose at the worms, looking a bit
disappointed when they disappear from view.

At the center, Shadow-of-Blood sniffs near the worms, wrinkling his nose
as he pulls away.

At the center, Sepdet remarks wryly to the newest arrival, ~I have some
barrels of sludge for you to help me remove, Shadow Lord.~

At the center, Jonas shrugs and nods as he takes his seat again. "If
they'll fit in my truck. If they won't, I'll rent a U-Haul, or something."

At the center, Elan stands and coems forward, takes the bones. He clears
his throat a bit. "I will still claim the position of Ritemaster. Also, I
will be available to of course aid in rebuilding the wardings, and making
sure our spirit allies return to the caern and are strengthened." Nodding
once at this, he hands the bones back over and steps down.

At the center, Seirian rises from her crouch, holding herself up as
straight as can be as she speaks in an accentless voice, "Songs and
stories are our ways to remember that which has caused us pain, strife,
loss. It was suggested recently that I write such a song...one that could
be sung to those Spirals that yet escape us...a song to tell them that we
come for them, and soon." She spares a brief look towards Layne before
continuing, "I have written such a thing...and with it I take a new name
this night. No more does Luna-Singer stand within your midst. Now does
Sings-Death-To-Spirals walk among you, voice raised in words of defiance
and hope for days yet to come." Resting one hand lightly against her
stomach, the Galliard lifts her clear soprano to the night air and sings
in a tune that is a conscious mockery of a child's lullabye.

"Rockabye Spirals
Death's on the wind
Darkness surrounds you
Time's closing in
Gaia is angry
In her name we hunt you
Luna is watching
By her light we slay you
Rockabye Spirals
The end's coming clearer
Our howls chase you down now
Our anger draws nearer
When Helios rises
To bathe us in light
He'll see naught but your corpses
And welcome the sight
Our Caern you had taken
To pervert and twist
But we have reclaimed it
With strength in our fist
Rockabye Spirals
We howl out your names
And hope that Death's kiss
Will wash clean your shames."

At the center, As her voice trails off, Seirian looks up to the stars,
then back at the assembled Garou. Her expression and the light in her eyes
ask wordlessly for whatever reactions the group deigns to give to her
impromptu performance.

At the center, Kaz growls, ~Rock /on/, Fianna!~

At the center, Fights-For-Hope simply snaps his teeth acknowledging the
truth in the song's words. ~They will all be cleansed.~

At the center, Elan grins and claps at the song by his former packmate.
"Wooot!"

At the center, Dane lets out a whistle.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra chuffs her approval, tongue lolling at the parody
of the song.

At the center, Child-Holder grins, narrowing her eyes to the darkness.
~Hear that you bastards?~

At the center, Skyscraper growls approval, wolf-grinning at the Fianna.

At the center, Wildfire snorts out a short little laugh.

At the center, Layne leaps up to offer a resounding, "Woo /HOO/!" to her
tribesmate, hands cupped to either side of her mouth. "Beautiful,
dahling!"

At the center, Bitter Cup chuffs, a wordless sound of approval.

At the center, Three-Blades grins a bit, tongue lolling.

At the center, Jonas permits himself some perfunctory applause for the
Fianna.

At the center, Shadow-of-Blood doesn't react at all for about a minute,
then he turns to his packmates. Explain later.

At the center, Seirian's cheeks flush to a bright pink, but not from
embarrassment, instead displaying a quiet pride for a brief moment.
Shrugging it off, she gives a mock bow, complete with foppish hand
gestures.

Salem accepts the bones back from the Fianna with a thin, tight smile,
then looks out over the crowd again; his gaze rests expectantly on Bitter
Cup.

At the center, Sepdet's ears are a bit quizzical, but the Galliard's
antics elicit a faint nod of approval.

At the center, Peacekeeper gives the Fianna polite, though honest,
applause, along with a smile.

At the center, Little Bear echoes his packalpha's sentiments.

At the center, Tobin smiles slightly at the song and nods once in approval.

At the center, Raven tilts her head, then also claps, more to follow
Jonas' lead than her own opinion of the song. That look of mild confusion
surfaces again.

At the center, Rags sings back the first few lines in a roar, his voice
nowhere as melodious as the Fianna's. ~Yee-hah, that'll make them flee!~

At the center, Nightfire seems less confused than Shadow-of-Blood, albeit
not by much. A song, of the Betrayers.

At the center, Bitter Cup, once the other announcements are done and
appreciation of the song has faded away, steps up once more to take the
bones from Salem's hands. ~Our sept is without a totem,~ she begins
without preamble. ~We still have work to do to make it acceptable to a
totem, though what Peacekeeper has brought us will shorten the wait. This
totem must fit the caern, which means it must work well with the Wyld, but
it also must fit the sept. Several of you have totems you wish to present
to the sept for consideration.~ Glancing at the height of the moon, she
says, ~I expect the need for the revel to take hold before anything is
decided. Tonight we will present and discuss. At moon-dark, we will have
another gathering to make our final decisions, after the sept has had half
a moon to consider.~ Pausing, she looks about, then adds, ~Step forward if
you wish to speak.~

At the center, Serendipity again takes her attention from the trees and
turns around, stepping forward. Tatt takes up some of her slack.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra also moves forward, tapping her nose against
Layne's leg as she does so.

At the center, Sepdet looks expectantly at her Galliard packmate, but
walks forward alone, arms folded.

At the center, Seirian sinks back down into a crouch, bracing herself with
one hand on the ground and returning to an attentive state, smile still
stuck to her face.

At the center, Layne rises and steps forward again, when Eye-of-Ra does,
pausing patiently before Bitter-Cup.

At the center, Elan stands as well, pausing before his packmate and Alpha.

At the center, Jonas's brows climb, as he watches this.

At the center, Nightfire steps up along with the others.

At the center, Wildfire takes in a deep breath before getting to his feet
as well and stepping forward.

Salem folds his hands into the pockets of his coat, silent as Bitter Cup
begins the discussion. His gaze, moving out over the crowd, briefly linger
on Synthesis and their cub, and then turn toward those approaching to
speak their mind.

At the center, And last, Tempered-Blade joins the others at the mound.

At the center, Little Bear moves up to take the bones fro whoever
currently holds them, turning to speak to the assembled.

At the center, Kaz also steps forward.

At the center, Little Bear raises his voice so that it can be heard to
furthest reaches. ~ You know who I am here to suggest. Wendigo fought hard
to win this Sept back from the Enemy, the Horned One and his followers.
Wendigo gave up one of his children to the Wyld in sacrifice to this
caern. Wendigo tore the enemy asunder and he ate them as they fell. He is
strong. This sept needs strength. He is woodscrafty. This sept needs
secrecy. He is unpredictable, he serves the Wyld as well as Gaia. These
things, like all things, are good and bad. He dislikes weakness. He is
prone to fits of anger. He is very much Wyld and dislikes the Weaver. Some
of you may even think he hates the Wyrmcomers.~ He turns, looking out at
those assembled. ~ Many have wondered about what was promised to Wendigo
in return for his aid to this sept. I will tell you now. Wendigo asked for
two things. He asked for the hearts of all enemies fallen in battle, and
he asked for us to strive to make him totem of this sept. ~ He turns
towards Kaz. ~ I would have this be so. ~ He hands the bones to her.

At the center, Three-Blades flips her ears back momentarily at her
packmate, but otherwise says nothing in response.

At the center, Rags howls briefly, in support of Little Bear's suggestion.

Salem's expression remains stoic, even bland, at the Wendigo's suggestion,
though the keen-eyed might note a definite clenching of jaw muscles.
Unsurprisingly, the Glass Walker doesn't seem to like the idea much.

At the center, Little Bear adds before handing them over. ~ Touch Deer,
known as Quiet Wind, has also returned as elder of the Wendigo. ~

At the center, Although he doesn't say anything, Skyscraper's ears ease
half back. Like Salem, the idea of the sept following Wendigo doesn't sit
well with him.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope ponders the Wendigo's words but says little
aside from some low yipped comments on promises.

At the center, Sepdet's expression does not change. For the most part, she
simply observes the sept's reaction.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra eyes Little Bear keenly, but remains
uncommunicative about her own take on his suggestion.

At the center, Rides-Fire's ruff flares before the son of Unicorn
determines which Horned One the Wendigo refers to.

At the center, The metis looks confused, and makes a 'who, me?' motion.
After a moment, she shrugs. ~What, Wendigo don't like Weaver an' don' like
Wyrmcomers? This Bone Gnawer's shocked, /shocked/ at the suggestion.
Jeezum crow. I gots an opinion, but whatever. Anyways, yeah, I'm still
Gnawer Elder, but I'm gonna be gone for awhile. Elan's it while I'm gone.
An', y'know. Go Rat.~ This doesn't seem to be a serious suggestion.

Dena takes the bones from the metis, and says, ~My heart yearns for
Pegasus, or Panther. I know others' hearts speak toward Unicorn, or Owl.
But I think that, in a Sept such as this, we should call to a Totem who
does not watch over the Tribes of those in charge of the Sept, and, more
to the point, a Totem associated with the Wyld, with strength, with the
heart of the wilderness. Wendigo is strong, true, but so is Stag. Stag is
of the Wyld, and Stag is known to this Sept. If not Stag, a Spirit such as
Magpie, who is secretive, who encourages the kind of hiding Fog did, but
who also spreads information.~ She pauses for a moment, shrugs, and then
passes the bones to Raeye.

At the center, Bitter Cup simply nods to Leonard as he stops back. She
then turns to the next set of announcements.

At the center, Little Bear watches the rest of the suggestions, arms
folded.

At the center, Brigid's eyes narrow slightly as she listens, but she
doesn't give any other outward sign of favoritism for any particular idea
thus far.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra , in turn, takes the bones in her jaws, and holds
them, while looking up expectantly at Layne.

At the center, Layne flows up into the warform given her by Gaia, fists
curling loosely around the bones. Red ears pressed tightly forward, she
trails her gaze across the Garou throng, beginning, ~We have steeped
ourselves in the Wisdom of Fog,~ the Fianna rumbles clearly, ~but the
Caern's reclaiming and rebirthing demands something new.~ Several
heartbeats pass before she growls: ~The Warrior, Bear.~ Her cool gaze
surveys the gathered, calculating, and she continues. ~Bear embodies
perfectly our adamant will, our resistance against the Spirals... We were
caught off-guard, tested, but proved that we can /scoff/ in the face of
crisis--because we have shown that the strength and endurance of our Caern
/cannot/ be outdone. Bear is a silent force that will not incite
unnecessary battle, but will swiftly guide our sept to victory in Gaia's
War, leaving enemies that flee, quivering--~ With this, she extends a claw
in the direction that the coward Dancers ran, ~little choice but to resign
themselves for dead. We owe it to /our/ fallen.~ As she unfurls one
taloned hand, passing the bones to the other, a spiraling, silver-blue
flame leaps to life in her palm, casting immediate surrounds with an eerie
glow.

At the center, An innate fire also burns steadily behind Sith-Fhuil's
eyes, and the Fianna halfmoon continues, a little more direct with the
following argument, ~/Forget/ your preconceived ideas of Bear. The issue
regarding Honor is not an issue at all, but a small obstacle. We are a
proud race, a sturdy and accomplished Sept, and surely have more than
enough Honor to go around, to lend to such a formidable Spirit.~ Dark lips
peel back around flashing teeth in something that's half grin, half snarl,
all intent. ~We were caught unaware by the Spirals' attack, were we not?
Our wards were crushed, our holy places infiltrated--we had grown /too/
proud...~ One more heartbeat before she rumbles out: ~You may decide that
choosing Bear is a gamble--~ The crinos gives a dismissive shrug in an
all-too human fashion, ~but after the fall, what Totem will accept /us/
without a fair amount of blind faith? Ours is a symbiotic relationship
with the Caern Totem, give and take, a Balance that needs maintaining.~
The Fianna regards the crowd once more, head bowed, gaze tipped upward in
her heavy brow, ~Accept Bear, and she will ensure that we have chosen
well.~ Clearly satisfied with her speech, Sith-Fhuil cocks her head toward
Eye-of-Ra nearby, eyes glinting, awaiting the Strider's presentation.

At the center, Jonas, for the suggestion of Bear, cannot stifle an
incredulous snort.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra waits patiently for Layne to finish speaking,
before she inputs her own reasoning. ~Bear may be a great source of
controversy,~ she begins, ~But in the light of our particular Caern's
situation, she may be more of an asset than a source for dishonor.~ Her
ears splay momentarily before continuing. ~We have recovered the Caern,
yes. But it is not in its strongest condition. Bear is mostly seen as a
spirit you call on in times of war. She is protective of her children, of
her land, and fiercely avenges those who call on her for aid. This Caern
could use that protection.~ Another pause, to let her words sink in before
continuing.

At the center, ~Her ferocity has been acknowledged for ages, but it stems
from her eye for preservation. Bear is, first and foremost, a caretaker, a
healer, a nurturer. She doesn't fight to wreak havoc; she fights to
preserve our mother. At this point in time, and in the future, we will
need this Caern protected. We will need this Caern nurtured. Bear doesn't
take things in halves. If we call on her to help the Caern, she will be
more than an ally. She will take us into her care. ...Perhaps it is time
to put suspicion from the past aside. It has often been noted that bear
shifters were the first children of Gaia, to watch over Her. Though many
of their kind have been depleted in the past.~ She refrains from
mentioning the War of Rage, but it's implied. ~There may be the squabbles
between our tribes and breeds before the Caern had been invaded, but we
have overcome those differences to reclaim and restore this piece of Gaia.
Why not overcome this old quarrel? If we can lower our pride long enough
to work with each other, why not take this opportunity to go further, to
reaquaint ourselves with a spirit who has much to teach us? Bear may be
seen as a dishonorable choice, but it is never a dishonor to choose a
spirit who will help restore a Caern and protect it.~

At the center, Fights-For-Hope stands in intrest as bear is mentioned and
pays close attention to Layne's words.

At the center, Kaz snorts at the two, mildly. Dena merely bares a fang and
returns to her guarding.

At the center, Little Bear listens quietly, staring straight ahead. He
doesn't seem as insulted by the notion.

At the center, Seirian also listens with interest to mention of Bear,
rocking back until she's sitting on the ground and resting her hands in
her lap.

At the center, Three-Blades thinks on what is said, taking in the snorts
and such but otherwise remaining still neutral.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra now flicks her ears forward once finishing her
speech, and gathering the bones, offers them to her Elder.

At the center, Chaser paces slowly, calmed enough to think by now, her
ears pricked forward from time to time in interest.

At the center, Bitter Cup seems thoughtful, though still reserved where
she stands. Rides-Fire flicks his ear back and twitches his tail
disapprovingly.

At the center, Sepdet listens to this eloquent exchange with a faint smile
before stepping forward. ~Some would say Phoenix,~ she observes with a
glance aimed at the Strider guarding the perimeter. ~We have come back
thrice now. But we are not ready. Therefore I agree with the Warder and
stand by my judgement, the one I called for when last we faced this
moment: Stag. Honor and survival in dire times we have demonstrated, and
he is one of the great lords of wild places.~

At the center, From the expression on the Fang's face, Tobin seems to be
measuring the wisdom in the words of the Fianna and the Strider, and has
not found them lacking.

At the center, Elan clears his throat again as he once more takes the
bones. "I feel there are a number of choices available to us. The
manifestation of the North Wind; a difficult totem to follow sometimes but
the knowledge of the Hidden World he brings could help us a great deal in
devising better defences so that what has happened never happens again.
Wind of course is the Wyld's breath, and also should be acceptable to many
of the spirits that dwell around us.

"The great Tree spirit; she would work well with the Wyld as well, and
provide a nurturing presence to help heal the abused land. Perhaps, too,
she could resonate with the Purity Oak we even now nurture in the Umbral
lands where the power plant used to be, and provide power and protection
to it as well.

"Stag.. mighty is he, and his very nature is of the Fey, who are the Wyld
given form. He would be a bold defender." The young Gnawer hands the bones
to Nightfire.

At the center, Fights-For-Hope settles again as stag is mentioned,
interest lost.

At the center, Little Bear narrows his eyes at Sepdet's speech.

At the center, Nightfire takes the bones from Elan. ~My choice is,
perhaps, the obvious one. This caern has been led by spirits of war, and
of visions, and of concealment. What we need now is healing. Our caern,
our bodies, and our spirits are all in need. I propose that we turn to
Unicorn, renowned for her healing ability. She is a spirit of the wild,
choosing to live apart, and often seen as uncatchable. Others have spoken
of strength. Any who doubt the strength of Unicorn, I direct to my own
pack. She would do well here, and we would do well to have her.~ Then he
hands the bones to Owen and steps down.

At the center, Wildfire steps up after shifting upwards to the war-form to
take the bones. ~I think everyone here knows me and probably knows what I
think about all this. I say it is time for a strong totem to adequately
defend this Caern from those who would take it. Something tangible.
Secrecy? That pooch has already been screwed.~ He eyes Little-Bear for a
moment. ~Many spirits lost their lives to this war, not just Wendigo.
Everything from Cougar and Wolverine, Gryphon, and even some little fluff
that took it to the nasty bane trying to make this place its home, so do
not count any one spirit special. No more weakness in this Sept.~ He peers
over everyone in the assembly before moving back to his place, handing the
bones to Susan as he does so.

At the center, Tempered-Blade takes her place in front of the assembled
Garou. ~I speak for the spirit of the Wyld who has aided this caern not
once, but twice. Ouroboros has spoken with it, and it is willing to follow
the nature of the Wyld, change its own nature, and become this caern's
Totem.~ Her gaze picks out those who would speak for other totems. ~It is
not that I do not feel the other totems are worthy; I do. Wendigo held
this place for more years than I can count. Unicorn would bring healing
and strenth, as would others. And yet, we owe this' caern's existance to
the spirit of the Wyld that sleeps so lightly here. It has a purpose here;
a vision that it alone seems to know how to bring about.~

At the center, Chaser's ears flatten back at the mention of Unicorn, but
she does not make a sound; she paces, and thinks, and listens.

At the center, Sith-Fhuil is expressionless and unmoving, though she gives
each speaker and their respective suggestions due consideration.

At the center, Serendipity looks thoughtful at this last. Interested, even.

At the center, Eye-of-Ra listens to the suggestions following, only moving
from her passive stance to whuff in agreement with Wildfire's opinion of
secrecy. Otherwise, she lays herself down beside Sith-Fhuil, attentive.

At the center, Skyscraper continues to listen to the proposals, his ears
cupped back up, earrings glinting occasionally in the moonlight.

At the center, Tyler steps up, and takes the bone. ~I have thought about
this since the day the Caern fell. Fog was great, but a Sept so large can
not hide for long, as we found out.~ He pauses a moment, but continues.
~The ancestors of my tribe are buried beneath this soil. This holy place
was once held by my people. History is history, things change. But I say,
not let Wendigo in. _Return_ Wendigo to his home. It is time for war, and
Wendigo is already on our side. Consider this.~ He hands the bone off.

At the center, Little Bear nods to Tyler. He glances at Rags as well.

At the center, Bitter Cup takes back the bones once more, once Tyler is
done. ~Many suggestions,~ she makes, in mild understatement. ~If any would
comment, or make other suggestion, tonight, step forward to take the
bones. Or if you have questions for those that champion the totems, or for
me. I personally have spoken to the Wyld spirit, as Tempered-Blade said,
and I spoke to Wendigo after learning of Little Bear's promise.~ She looks
around the gathered Garou. ~If you would wait, there will be much chance
to debate between now and the new moon. And keep in mind always--in the
end, Gaia decides. All we do is invite.~

At the center, Kaz apparently either has some kind of comment or question,
since she steps forward.

At the center, Bitter Cup hands the bones to the metis Bone Gnawer as soon
as she approaches.

At the center, Kaz says, gratingly, since she's speaking Mother Tongue in
a homid throat, ~Yeah, ok. I'm a Bone Gnawer, so I'm kind of dense. Talk
to me about Wyld as a /Totem/. Last thing I saw that Wyld spirit do was,
like, melt people, and Wyld ain't really renowned for its stability. I
mean -- how would that /work/?"

At the center, Sith-Fhuil bleeds down into wolf, planting her hindquarters
in the grass as she glances from Kaz to the Wyld advocates, expectantly.

At the center, Bitter Cup takes back the bones, since the question more or
less defaults to her. ~To my knowledge, the Wyld has not served as a totem
before,~ she agrees. ~Wyld spirits are unpredictable and unwilling to be
bound. Yet this caern lives because of the Wyld. If any caern would suit a
spirit of the Wyld, it would be one such as this one. As to its stability,
the spirit is...changed, by what it chooses to do. It has taken in some
elements of the Weaver, which has given it coherent direction, if not
form.~ She pauses, then says, ~This will mean little to many of you, as it
is a fine point of lore, but I have searched for the spirit's name It has
none, or many. It is of the Nameless, the strongest of the Wyld's
children. To become our totem, it would take a name, and leave the other
Nameless. Even for the Wyld, this spirit changes and defies description.
It already changes past what is known for Wyld.~

At the center, Sepdet falls rather quiet, looking steadily towards Andrea
with a remote expression.

At the center, Serendipity, already quiet, merely looks both thoughtful
and wistful.

At the center, Tobin nods along with Andrea's explanation, looking quite
interested but not commenting.

At the center, Three-Blades edges forward, looking for a chance to speak.

At the center, Bitter Cup offers Yi the bones next.

At the center, Little Bear is impassive, arms folded, gaze stony.

At the center, Three-Blades does her best to muster up a voice while she
takes the bones. For a moment, she looks at it quietly and then gazes at
the gathered. ~I admit I know little of the spirit ways. But to add my
thoughts into the matter, I'd like to suggest... Frog.~ The Gnawer
ragabash twirls one of the bone-halves. ~Frog is water and ground,
free-flowing but stable. It is a spirit of wisdom as well. It knows
patience to wait for the right chances, and also knows how to strike
quickly when needed. Very adaptable, as one who also goes through many
changes. From the way this caern has grown so many times, and changed so
many of its faces, there might be a connection.~ She twitches an ear
slightly. And with that she hands back the bones and slips back from
attention of the crowd.

At the center, Kaz blinks at Yi.

At the center, Tobin also blinks at Yi, looking more than a little
surprised that the Ragabash spoke on the issue, and at her suggestion. He
seems to be giving it serious thought, though.

At the center, Chaser slips out of the shadows, at the gathering's edge.
The wolf paces toward Andrea, quiet but purposeful--and stops one step
away, and shifts to the Crinos, holding out a clawed hand.

At the center, Seirian tilts her head slightly to one side, more than a
bit outwardly curious at Yi's suggestion.

At the center, Sepdet's hand contracts into a fist at Yi's suggestion. She
takes a careful breath and lets it go.

At the center, In the warform, the Get Ragabash is tall, scarred, her
turned back peppered with the marks of at least a dozen bullets as she
walks up to where the alpha stands. She is also wound as tightly as an
Ahroun, or so it would seem; her movements have the telltale taut quality
of Rage barely held in check.

At the center, Three-Blades eyes the ones that look at her, but otherwise
goes back to being a ghost.

At the center, Bitter Cup pauses consideringly before handing the bones
over to Chaser, dog-dark eyes measuring the other woman for a pregnant
pause before the pieces are offered without violence.

At the center, Chaser cradles the bones in one upturned hand, while the
other clenches into a fist--tight enough to dig claws into the palm, and
draw a slow welling of blood. ~We are at war,~ she snarls, quietly. ~I may
know little of the spirits--but I know war, and blood.~ Her teeth flash
for a moment before she continues, looking over the many gathered Garou.
~In the beginning... the beginning of the Wheel Renewed, when Garou
returned to this place after their long absence... we bled for the calling
of the Totems. And we have bled again, and again. To adapt. Defend.~ The
green eyes narrow, and she growls softly, ~We need a totem of war, and
strength. From the beginning, this has been a place of the first-comers. A
place of the Wendigo, and the shaman's ways. The fight to hold the land
that should be his, and the heart of the storm...~ She nods curtly. ~I
think the North would serve us well. But I am no Theurge...~

At the center, Little Bear blinks, hearing these words out of a
Wyrmcomer's mouth. He looks to Chaser with something approaching wonder.

At the center, Sepdet smiles tiredly at the Get's fierce declaration.
~Both,~ she whispers under her breath.

At the center, Chaser glances, sidelong, to Sepdet and Bitter-Cup. ~If the
Wyld-Spirit knows the truth of blood, the need to fight...~ The blood
still wells from her claws, dripping to the ground. ~Maybe. But above all
other things--above honor, and glory--~ She glances to the Fianna, to the
Striders. ~Above the voices of tribes, and the loyalties each one of us
carries--~ Her bloodied palm turns outward. ~THIS is truth: we are at war,
and it is strength for war that we need. To hold this land against the
/new/ Wyrmcomers. If Wendigo will come...~ She shakes blood to the earth
in a violent gesture. ~I will bleed for the North Wind.~

At the center, Wildfire draws a lip back again, his near-permanent scowl
turning into something less than a scowl for a moment. He raises both
clawed hands and actually applaudes for Chaser.

At the center, Little Bear can't help but give voice to his approval at
the Get's words.

At the center, Serendipity regards Chaser with something like wonder.

At the center, Three-Blades flicks her ears in partial agreement with the
Get ragabash's words.

At the center, Kaz mutters, "It'd still eat me in a heartbeat, thanks."

At the center, Chaser bares her teeth in a snarl, and turns to offer back
the bones to Bitter-Cup. The free hand of the Get is clenched again, and
those in close proximity might note a tremor.

At the center, Little Bear rumbles, glancing at Sepdet, ~Doesn't like
metis, much.~

At the center, Bitter Cup bows her head in respect as she reaches toward
the bones. ~Do you speak of the wind totem?~ she asks. ~It sounds as if
you speak the other name of the Wendigo, but to be sure.~

At the center, Tyler, from where he sits in the back of the gathering in
the shadows of the trees, lets out a loud whooping cry, in support of the
testament. Those who can see him might catch a smile on the moody Ahroun.

At the center, Tobin notes to Little Bear, sounding slightly bitter
"Doesn't like Wyrmcomers, such as myself, much."

At the center, Skyscraper twitches his ears, expression impassive, but his
tail disapproves.

At the center, Brigid keeps her expression carefully closed, not obviously
swayed in one particular direction by what's been said.

At the center, Sith-Fhuil's nose wrinkles, catching scent of the fresh
wounds on the Get's hands. The Fianna's expression is dark and unreadable;
she shows no approval or disapproval either way.

At the center, Bending her head in a curt, human nod, Chaser answers in
that silent affirmative. Then she growls, ~Wendigo. Or Wyld. As long as it
has strength, and claws. That is what we need.~ Abruptly, she becomes
human, a grimy and exhausted young woman with a bloodied hand and a rather
perforated leather jacket. She returns to the gathering that way, her eyes
lowered to conceal the fury behind them.

At the center, Sepdet does not react visibly to the barb sent by her
packmate, but seems pleased, and bemused, by this unexpected display.

At the center, Bitter Cup inclines her head again. Commenting to Tobin,
she says without inflection, ~The Wendigo spirit I spoke with actually
said that being a Wyrmcomer was more in the heart than in the blood. If
that was the one that answered the call, I would not fear for the sept
that paid so dearly to recover the land. I, too, was conCerned of
Wendigo's reaction in a sept guided by Pegasus and Unicorn rather than his
own line.~ She shakes her head. ~It grows late. If there are no other
words tonight, we will gather again in half a moon's time.~

At the center, Little Bear nods to Bitter Cup's words. He glances at
Tobin, rumbling, ~I don't much like you, either, and you're still alive.~

At the center, Tobin nods at Andrea, gazing turning inwards in a
thoughtful expression at the Gaian's words. He opens his mouth to respond
to Leonard but closes it again after a moment and otherwise doesn't
acknowledge the Wendigo.

At the center, Three-Blades just eyes her Wendigo packmate, before she
looks back towards the crowd. She has nothing more to say particularly.

At the center, Tyler dissapears into the dark shadows of the scary night.

At the center, Bitter Cup hands the bones back to Salem, who declares the
end of the Cracking, in time for the Warder to lead those that are left
into the night on a bawn revel.

At the center, Brigid rolls to her feet after a moment, mostly to stretch
widely and brush drying mud off of her clothing. The Theurge looks
thoughtful, left hand idly rubbing at her back.

At the center, Sepdet returns to her packmates, eyes the Wendigo wryly,
and suggests, ~Come on. Let's go kill something.~