It is currently 18:03 Pacific Time on Fri Aug 26 2005. Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (54% full). Big Red Barn The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels. The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house. Reggie stands by the door, close by the wall, as he watches the two fighters tangle. He nods approvingly or lightly shakes a fist at each good blow, encouraging them on. As blood starts to flow Clemency's excitement reaches fever pitch. "Bite his fucking head off!" she shouts out all of a sudden. It's not clear whom she's addressing. Grey, most likely drawn by the sound of the brawl, pushes open the barn door just enough to step inside; he pauses there to let his eyesight adjust to the difference in light. What's white, silver, and red all over? It's Dragon's Blood who seems full and ready to end this tussel before it gets any more severe. With white-hot pain flaring in his right shoulder that turns it limp and numb, the Silver Fang roars his fury, eyes burning with Rage as his left hand blurs forward and siezes the Forsetti's muzzle, jerking it close and his chin up. The Ahroun's jaws gape and surge forward, closing on the thick grey throat of the Fenrir. The two bloody warriors continue to pound away at each other until Dragon's-Blood suddenly bursts up through the brutal offense of Forath-Ripper and closes in on his throat. The Fang soon feels claws at his own as the Fenrir sweeps his hands around, choking the Ahroun as his claws prick, but not break. A tie perhaps? A battle of dominance and will at this point? The Forseti gasps for breath as his bloodied legs soak the Fang beneath him as he still remains in a sitting pinned position. Clemency has stopped jiggling round excitedly and is now watching what must surely be the climax of the fight with the hushed awe of a baseball fan watching the last batter take third strike. Reggie lowers his fists, to brace them on bent knees, as he takes the position of a baseball umpire watching the play. Grey's nostrils flare at the scent of blood. Pushing the door closed behind him, the Glass Walker by a part of the wall near it -- though not, one may note, too close to Reggie. He watches with sharp interest, hands hidden in the pockets of his blue jeans. Suddenly, all the action and violence screeches to a hault as the two lupine gladiators each fight to mantain the critical hold. Dragon's Blood is tensed, hissing out a snarl through the constriction of his throat and barely getting it past the thick fur and flesh he holds in his jaws. His right arm isn't moving, the other three limbs tied up in supporting his bulk in the awkward pretzel position they find themselves in. Jaw muscles twitch and quiver as the Fang tightens his hold like a pit bull, refusing to release even as blood stings his eyes and runs down off his face. The Get doesn't seem to be yielding as he continues to grip the Fang with both hands tight, squeezing, gasping for breath as he rumbles out in a garbled manner. Every muscle in his body has gone rigid and tense as he keeps his head taunt. A good near three minutes tick by as the pair remain locked in each other's death grip. Though the Fang is more mangled and Forath-Ripper isn't bleeding as much, it is him that slowly releases him, jerking his nose upwards just a slight higher to show his relent. Clemency holds her own pose just as much like a tableau as the two fighting garou, fists clenched, craned forward. When Brom's head moves finally she lets out a huge pant of contained breath. Reggie's wheezy breathing is held as he waits through the long moments of the standoff, then, unable to hold it that long, is rattled out in a bout of coughing, during which he jerks his head sideways to regard Grey, eyes seeking out the glyphs, his face tight. The sleeves of Grey's workshirt are, as it happens, rolled down at the moment, though the sleeves themselves are rumpled and the cuffs unbuttoned. He pays Reggie no mind; his attention's wholly focussed on the two combatants. Dragon's-Blood feels the movement of the other's head and the release of his throat. Grunting slightly, the Ahroun removes his jaws from around the halfmoon's neck and allows him to breath, pulling himself back up to his full standing height. Despite being dirty and covered in blood mostly from his sliced face, there's an inborn look of dominance, that he is a king wolf and has just proven it. But then he's grinning with all teeth and the expression gone as he offers out a hand to the other to help him up. ~Magnificent. I have not had a good fight in a long time. I always trust a Fenrir to prove me with a challenge.~ Sliding up to his feet easier, Forath-Ripper looks a bit rocky on his torn legs as he lets out a loud chuff. ~Its about fucking time someone beat me. I was starting to think I was a God.~ He gives a wolfish grin up to the Silver Fang, then rumbles. ~We need to do this more often.~ He grips the other's wrist with his as he holds himself balanced, ears twitching upwards attentively. He doesn't appear to be embarrassed, if anything, relieved. Standing over nine foot tall is a powerfully built warform, covered in thick brown fur with patches missing along his back and chest. There is a shock of white upon his chest that leads down to his stomach. The eyes of the monster is a bright yellow, set just above a strong looking muzzle filled with sharp teeth. Clemency jumps off the haybale and strides over to the bloodstained fighters. "Oh man. That was a pleasure to watch. It really was." She turns round and only now sees Reggie and Grey are also present and watching, so intent was her focus on the sparring match. Reggie straightens up, hands leaving sweatly handmarks on his jeans, as the fight comes to an end. His nod of approval at both fighters is interrupted as he notices Clemency's seeing him, and his face twists into a grin as he jabs an index finger towards the fighters while nodding towards Clemency. Grey shifts his weight, his attention becoming a good deal less intense now that the brawl is concluded. He nods to Clemency when the Fang notices him, but offers up no comment. Dragon's-Blood glances to his scarred right shoulder and snorts. ~Damn the Dancer who gave me this. I would kill him, if I had not already.~ He takes his good arm and siezes the limp one, jerking the shoulder up. Blood wells free as veins and nerves are released from pressure as the dislocated joint is reset in place. ~We will have to spar again when we have stopped bleeding.~ Remarks the Ahroun, jaws opening in a lazy sort of grin. Tamara slips into the Barn, quickly closing the large doors behind her when she sees the Ahourn and smells the scent of fresh blood. Forath-Ripper nods his head slightly as he rumbles away. ~If you need some clothes, I have a spare set in my bag.~ He rumbles loudly in his throat, giving a feral grin back to the Silver Fang, then glances over to the others as he flickers his ears back. The sight of Reggie, Grey and now Tamara entering manages to cause a bit of surprise upon his face. He grows tense for a moment, releasing the other's wrist. "You'd both beat me," Clemency says with blunt frankness, "but I'd be up for it anyway, against that sort of quality. Plus, I need to start learning how to fight effectively without... you know." She pulls her hands out of her pocket to display the nail-less fingers. "Ought to go get some fresh air, though. Clear my head. I'm all buzzing." She walks to the door, taking deep breaths. "Reggie? Want to come and finish that conversation that got interrupted the other day, while I'm in a good mood for once?" Reggie pulls open the door as Clemency approaches, about to leave as well, but pausing as the Fang approaches. He looks surprised to see the state of Clemency's fingers, then, with a brief frown, nods towards her. With his hand still on the door, he steps outside, ready to close it when Clemency also exits. Clemency joins Reggie out in the yard and the two walk off together, each looking just a fraction less than fully comfortable with the other. Grey notices Tamara and, after another glance at the two Crinos, crosses over toward her. "You just missed it," he tells her neutrally. As the door is cracked open by Clemency, in strides Touch Deer. Everyone exiting gets a nod and a polite, small smile, and then he shuts the door behind himself, chin raising as he looks about. "Well well." He smirks at the bloody Crinos before resting his gaze on Grey. His brow draws together a fraction and he nods in that direction. This young Native American man walks with a sure confidence and grace common among his people. His midnight-black hair reaches down to his shoulders, and a buckskin headband keeps his bangs at bay. Handsome in a rugged, masculine way, his face is bronze skinned, with a short nose and coffee-colored eyes particular to the people of the American Southwest. His Clothing consists completely of deerskin and is handmade in the traditional style of the Lipan Apache (+detail Clothes), and around his neck hangs a very out-of-place necklace (+detail Necklace). The parts of his body visible despite the clothing (upper chest, forearms and hands) are horribly scarred. Hideous patches of pink, black, and red tissue dot most of these exposed areas, and anyone would easilly surmise that the rest of his body (except his neck and face) are equally gruesome. Despite his scarring, his body seems healthy looking; he is muscular but trim, and sports a robust complection. He seems aware to an extreme degree, seeing and sensing disturbances in his immediate and distant surroundings like a trained scout. From his belt hangs a small, utilitarian stone knife, and a medium sized pouch, and a war club. Around his shoulders a large bag hangs, beautifully constructed from buckskin and moose hide. When he speaks, his voice comes covered in a thick Native accent. "It would seem that way," Tamara says, looking over the bloody combatants. Dragon's-Blood gives his fur a brief shaking off to free some of the clinging that's already happening, giving a loud huff through his nostrils. ~I am sure you do not wear my brand, but I would rather that than the clothing Gaia gave me. More, I doubt anyone would approve of that.~ At the entrance of more Garou, Dragon's Blood turns his sliced and bloodied face towards them. Forath-Ripper snorts slightly at the Fang as he limps over towards the duffle bag, reaching down to pluck it up with a heavy crinos hand, tossing it at his feet. ~Yeah, some reason the Garou here are scared of seeing someone naked. Back at the White Oak, the warriors got so used to losing their clothing they've all but gave up on it. The sweats are big but should fit you fine. You want to get drunk?~ Grey nods a bit back at Touch Deer and gives Brom a bit of an eyebrow-rise at his comment, then turns back to Tamara. "You never mentioned, by the way, the name of the cub you were needing help with." There's a creek of the door as Maggie slips in, she pauses on the threshold, sniffing the air. Her eyes turn 'round and 'round the room, taking in all the people new to her. After a brief pause, she decides it's best to slip in quietly, and takes a place leaning against the side of the barn wall; nodding to Brom, if he happens to glance her way. Not trying to sneak around, but not trying to introduce herself either. Tamara ahhs and lightly touches the brim of her hat. "My apologies. His human name is Basil." Touch Deer's eyes leave Grey and lock on to the complete stranger Brom is propositioning with alcohol. He heads to him, head up towards the silver Crinos' slashed face. Dragon's-Blood doesn't reply to Brom, instead he turns his eyes down towards Touch Deer, ears panning forward. ~We have not met yet, have we?~ The bleeding, white Crinos asks of the other. Grey glances over at the new arrivals, obviously noting each one before turning back to the ugly Strider. "Isn't he a Bone Gnawer?" Touch Deer shakes his head, smiling despite himself at the familiar scene of Brom and a nother Garou beat to hell in the same room. "I'm Touch Deer Cries-No-More, once, Survives-The-Scab, Wendigo Foster, full moon, and Groundskeeper at this Sept." Tamara's head bobs in response to Grey's question. "Yes, he is. I was given permission to teach him, from his Elder as the Bone Gnawers lack any full-moons to teach him." Limping slowly around the barn, Forath-Ripper seems pleased as punch. Glancing over towards Maggie, he cracks her a bloody, toothy grin. ~You just missed a good fight. The new Fang and I tore each other apart for fun. I lost.~ He chuckles loudly. Though his legs are torn, the other guy is well off worse. Grey grunts, hands coming out of his pockets. "Must be quite a handful," he remarks, folding his arms across his chest. "I met Stacey yesterday, mentioned an Ahroun with a big mouth, and she gave me his name right off." He snorts. Dragon's-Blood dips his head in a partial bow to the higher ranking Garou, using an arm to clear the blood from blue eyes. ~I am Dragon's Blood, born of the eclisped full moon, Cliath of the Silver Fangs. I will not bore you of my lineage save to say it is very long.~ Maggie squints her eyes and tilts her head to the right. Her eyes run up and down Brom, and then dart to Dragon's-Blood, before her lips are drawn into a light smile. She nods her head, and then glances over to Grey and Tamara, giving the conversation, more then the people, an exasperated look. Sighing, she turns back to Brom. "So someone finally beat the shit outta ya huh? Looks like you ripped him up good too." Blond hair with a reddish tinge reaches down to a few inches under shoulder length. The hair seems hurriedly brushed, and largely unkept. Long bangs shelter blue-green eyes, which are always moving; her gaze scratching and snagging for a moment on whatever interest her in the vicinity. Usually some part of her body is moving, either her hands are absentmindedly fingering her clothes, or her feet are rocking slightly back and forth. She might seem nervous, if her eyes didn't brim with curiosity. Her clothing is loose and simple, the t-shirt she has on looks like it was gotten at a garage sale, and her blue jeans have a rip in them near the knee. Her voice is a high soprano with a bit of a laugh in it. Once again Tamara nods, releasing a rather frustrated sigh at the same time. "Yes, he is. All he does is talk and talk. He was supposed to be ready for his Rite, but when I spared with him, I took him out without using my claws and he never even managed to lay a single claw on me." Touch Deer smiles and dips his own small (in comparison) human head in a small return-nod to Dragon's-Blood. "Eclipsed? I've never met such a Garou. Are you here to seek membership?" Forath-Ripper snorts loudly at Maggie. ~Hardly beat the shit out of me. His arm is nearly falling off.~ He says with an amused chuckle as he flops a heavy crinos paw on the girl's head, lightly so not to snap her neck, then ruffles up her hair. ~Besides, it is not the first time I have lost. Touch Deer Rhya there and I fought well and long once and he came out the victor. Back at the Oak I was never the strongest fighter. Just a /good/ fighter.~ "And he's an Ahroun?" The Glass Walker grimaces. "Christ on a stick." He pushes a stray lock of hair away from his eyes and glances back over at the others. Dragon's-Blood gives a slight huff as he listens to the Fenrir brag, but his attentions remain on Touch Deer. ~Yes, I am. Chiminage has not been decided yet, I only arrived a few evenings ago.~ Touch Deer smiles and opens his hands before himself, out towards the new Fang. "Welcome, and good luck. We're in great need of good fighters. When you're healed, perhaps we can have a match." He excuses himself with an exiting-motion of his chin, and heads towards Tam and Grey. Maggie slouches back further against the wall and grins. "So what makes you the looser? Is it like, the first person to fall on the ground or something?" Tamara grunts softly, then tips her hat toward Touch-Deer in greeting. "Evening." Forath-Ripper shakes his head to the cub. ~No, it is when one bares his throat in submission. He had his jaws on my throat, I had my claws on his. He lasted longer than me and I relented. It is what I was telling you about honorable surrender.~ ~Anytime.~ Dragon's Blood says back to Touch Deer as he departs and then walks towards Forath Ripper, grinning down at the cub as he claps the halfmoon on the shoulder with one broad, clawed hand. ~No hard feelings after, despite blood and a few days limping.~ Grey dips his head slightly to Touch Deer. His hands vanish back into his pockets, and the lock of hair drops back over his forehead, partially obscuring the dead eye. The new-moon nods, "Good thing to know," she looks up as Dragon's Blood comes over and watches him for a moment, she hasn't seen him in this form before, but by piecing the bits of conversation he had with Touch Deer together she figures out who he is and a smile of recognition crosses her face. Jervis abruptly returns, cigarette in hand. "Still here?" he says, quietly, and then indulges in a long drag that illuminates his face. Poe comes trotting in in Lupus after a hard day of training, and, looking around he shifts to Homid. He notices Brom, blooded up, and he notices another covered in blood, and he spots Maggie. He immediately scoots over towards her, not saying anything, but looking...preturbed. And a little anxious. Forath-Ripper flashes another bloody grin to the Silver Fang as he nods his head, giving him a light jab in the stomach with an elbow. ~No hard feelings at all. I don't mind losing, despite popular belief.~ He turns his head to regard the mess of an Ahroun. ~So, tonight we celebrate, right? For new allies?~ ~Allies.~ Replies Dragon's Blood with a satisfied chuff. ~Now, I need to speak with my tribe's elder.~ Leaving the small gathering of Get, the Fang walks over towards Jervis, remaining in the Crinos to support the sluggish healing of his wounds. ~We still need to speak of chiminage, do we not?~ Touch Deer stops before Grey and Tam, nodding formally to Grey and looking just a bit hesitant before finally asking, "Thomas, haven't seen you around since I returned..." He puts out a scarred hand, stiffly, but a polite smile's on his rather handsome face. Grey accepts the Wendigo's offer of a handshake, his grasp firm and businesslike, his expression guarded. "I've been busy." Maggie turns to Poe, still grinning. "You an' I both just missed a fight, Brom and the new Fang guy, Nikolas was it? They had a little duel. Not like antagonistic or anything. Brom lost but it looks like it was close." She turns back to Brom, "You said earlier you wanted to talk to me...?" Jervis nods slowly to the the Ahroun. "Indeed we do. Perhaps...with a bit more privacy? Unless you really require an audience?" Dragon's-Blood shakes his broad muzzle to the Ragabash's question. ~No. If I can walk in the wolf skin, I will. If not, I must resort to stealing Forath Ripper's clothes as mine were not dedicated.~ Tamara attention turns to Poe briefly and she frown. "Excuse me, but is it wise to be in lupus outside of the barn?" Touch Deer gives Grey's words a twist of his chin and an "I understand" pursing of his lips. He looks between Grey and Tamara, then ventures, "I've been running Basil around the woods and teaching him unarmed combat, but only in the mornings. I've...not gained formal approval for this from Olga but Yi's gone to ask on my behalf, and I'm hoping it's allright with her. Most of the cubs are already taking part. Tamara, if you're trying to harden him, and you want Grey to help, maybe we should all talk it over togther. Compare what we know about the cub, and so forth." He looks over to Poe as Tam speaks. "Not really, no..." Waving off the Silver Fang, Forath Ripper glances back down to his cubs. ~Yes, I wanted to speak to you in private when I can. I have matters to discuss with you for your eyes only and it pertains to your training.~ Poe winces at Maggie, giving a nod, "Ouch." he murmurs, and raises a brow, "Brom lost? Huh. I would have never really guessed he would....." he looks to Tamara, "Oh, sorry. You're right! I did forget." he sighs, "I have a lot to remember. No, I shouldn't show up here in Lupus. You're right." he looks ashamed, "Ah. Man. I'm really out of it today...." A boy that appears to be about in his teens. He's rather tall and slim, skin a light tan, with his face high-cheekboned and smooth, nose straight and lips thin and pink, chin a somewhat sharp point. His eyes are a hazel color, flecks of green within the brown of his irises. He is generally dressed in baggy jeans that hang off his hips and a shirt with some popular logo on it, and he is lithe, looking like something out of those horrible boybands. Trendy and concerned about his looks, it would seem, considering how immaculate he keeps his scruffy-clean mix. His chestnut brown hair is slightly longer than the middle of his ears, strands draping in his face, and occassionally he will slap a baseball cap on backwards to keep them behaving. He wears worn sneakers on his feet, but they're mostly covered by the tattered and saggy ends of his jeans. Jervis chuckles at the new Fang, and gives Brom an odd look from behind a drag. "Up to you, my friend. Shall we...go for a walk, then?" Jervis gestures to the exit to the barn. "Nowhere in particular; we'll just make a circle." Grey turns a dark brown eye onto Poe, fixing the boy with a look that seems critical. Then he turns back to his conversation with Tamara and Touch Deer. "How's he taking the lessons?" he asks the Wendigo frankly. "Willing student or whiny bitch?" From afar, to the room, Forath-Ripper is talking to Maggie, not Nikolai at this point. Tamara gets this faintly annoyed look on her face, before it is quickly smothered. "Did he ask to spar with you, and did you point out the faults in his fighting style?" And hand gestures toward the Walker. "I have asked Grey to help, by speaking with Toothless about Weaver weapons, where they are useful, and where they are not." Maggie nods and sweeps her eyes over Brom and Poe. "Him too?" she asks, gesturing to the Galliard, "We could go to the farmhouse, or maybe the bawn since the farmhouse might have people in it...?" Dragon's-Blood raises up one talon in a hold-on gesture as he walks to the Fenrir's duffle bag, collecting out a set of clothes. He's off behing the hay bales then to change forms and clothing, returning a short time later in terribly un-Fanglike sweats and using a scrap of his old pants to mop at the blood on his face. "Alright, now that I am mostly decent, let us walk." Poe shakes his head to Maggie, "I think he just wants you." he accidentally meets Grey's critical look, and his brows furrow in a somewhat annoyed way, before he turns away back to Brom and Maggie. "I don't think I'm supposed to come. It's your training, I think. Involving Basil." Touch Deer replies quickly, "Very well, actually. He's eager and obedient. I...have worked hard to gain his respect, and now I think I have it enough that he listens to what I say, at least so far as training such as /that/. He has...ways of thinking about things that I disagree with, and worry about, and want to talk to him about, sometime soon. He hasn't asked to spar with me, but I've had him face the other cubs and he does well against them." He now begins to whisper, voice carrying no farther than Grey and Tam, eyes briefly alighting on Poe and Maggie. ~This particular conversation is only for you, Ladder Climber.~ Brom rumbles to the New Moon, giving the Galliard a quick look. ~No offense, I do train you both seperately.~ He says, then watches Nikolai leave, ears twitching a bit, though he appears amused. Touch Deer: "My idea was: they won't learn from sparring me, they'll just learn to be beaten. After they gain some experience on each other, I'd move them towards more complex combat tactics, the knife, and eventually set them up against Cliaths. Basil's actually more advance in all this than the others, right now, if only by a fraction." Poe gives a nod to Brom, "No offense taken, Brom-rhya." although he appears surprised at the elder's 'apology', obviously not expecting it. Maggie nods, "Makes sense, we'll get more practice if we train seperately." she grins down, at Poe. "Seeya around then Poe. Maybe we can go on another midnight lupus run. Emma took me on a bunch of those when I first got here, it got me used to the form." ~A lot of things you will learn together, but there are some things that you need to learn on your own.~ Brom shifts down into the Glabro form and takes his shirt, tying it around his bloody leg as his clothing rededicates. "Come, to the Compound, I'll show you how to get there. Tomorrow is your day, Poe." With that, he heads for the door. Tamara's lips twitch as her teeth are briefly bared. "To loose is to learn your weaknesses. In knowing where you are most weak, you can gain the most strength. Please, I would kindly request that you refrain from teaching him as our methods of teaching cubs are clearly very different. If Toothless has two teachers with such different methods of teaching, he will only try to manipulate us to gain what he wishes. I have noticed that he is somewhat like a Ragabash in that manner. I have been given permission by his Elder to teach him and I would prefer that my methods are only used for now. Unless, of course, his Elder wishes otherwise." Poe says, "Bye Maggie. Thanks for the offer, I'd like that." he grins a bit, and then as she leaves, he makes his way to a haybale to sit, looking around. Touch Deer stares at Tamara a moment, and then nods, curtly. "It's Olga's cub, so he's yours." "A few scars won't hurt the boy," Grey remarks, having nodded a few times in agreement with Tamara. "Better if he doesn't think he can get away with anything." He shrugs at Touch Deer. "As some cubs will if they think their teacher is their /friend/." Tamara simply nods in agreement with Grey's words, arms crossing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cub to find. He has disobeyed my orders and he has to learn that there are consequences to his actions." "I would disagree, but, I'm not here to argue. Good luck with him, he's better use to us if he turns around his attitude, however it is done." The Wendigo looks to Grey and asks, "If I'm around, could I join you, if you do teach Basil about Weaver weapons? I just returned from a city stay last week. I've been trying to learn more about that which I know almost nothing." Tamara gets a wave. "See you, all good medicine." Grey pulls a brass pocketwatch from his jeans and glances at it. "As it happens, I must be going as well." He nods to Touch Deer. "Of course. Would be an honor." He's perfectly polite as he puts the watch away and then heads for the door, adding a, "Gaia watch," in farewell.