It is currently 18:07 Pacific Time on Sat Jan 28 2006. Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.85 and rising, and the relative humidity is 82 percent. The dewpoint is 38 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.) Currently the moon is in the waning New Moon phase (4% full). Black fur covers much of this adult male wolf, the dark pelt mixed with chocolate brown hairs throughout and pale white and grey hairs around his muzzle and eyes; this premature greying touches his paws as well. An irregular patch of medium grey covers his chest. Like all his species, he is long-limbed and athletically built, powerful and relentless in his motions, a true predator. Rarely does this the animal truly relaxed, and often a murderous anger seems to rage just under the surface, violence held in check only by a near-iron control. To Garou eyes, he has the look of nobility, and it's clear that Shadow Lord blood runs strongly through his veins. One feral golden eye glints with a more than animal intelligence, but the other is blind and white, all but lost within the twisted maze of scar tissue that covers the left side of his face. There's a secondary scarred area on his right shoulderblade that looks like it might once have been some kind of glyph, but more claw-scarring has removed all meaning from it. The scars on his belly are more random, a badge from some battle or another, like the ones marring his face. However, the claw-made scars on his forearms -- the glyph for Charach on the right, the one for Dishonor on the left -- appear nothing but deliberate. Bawn: Western Forest(#3018RA) Tall Sitka spruce and sequoia crowd around and above you. Many of the trees are old, their branches twisted into impossible shapes, trunks broad and draped with lichen, mosses and creepers. Tendrils of moss hand down from them like green spiderwebs, snaring the unwary with cold, ghostly fingers. The patches of younger growth are dense and pale, needles tinged with silver. Matted undergrowth huddles sullenly in the occasional small clearings, clutching with thorns and burrs at the legs of those who would pass. Deer seldom venture here, but the forest is full of rustlings, and tiny glints from wary, watchful eyes. The forest spreads out to the east, bounded on the west by Sunrise Road. From farther to the west, one can occasionally hear the distant sounds of the town of Kent's Crossing. The sudden entry of a third party into the game takes Power-in-the-Darkness by surprise, all his attention evidently having been fixed on Walks-Middle. He spins round under the side attack, and lands on his flank, letting out a noise somewhere between a yip of surprise and a growl of protest, before he recognises that the new arrival is his own packmate. I will take you all on and beat you! I am still the best! he proclaims. Walks-Middle is also taken by surprise by another's entrance, thrown off-balance and landing on her side. She turns her head toward the other, baring her teeth with a growl. Once she realizes it's Bloods-Bane, she calms, chuffing a quick greeting, and then stands to her feet. She opens her jaws in an exaggerated, yet playful yawn, apparently not thinking much of the boasting, and then she charges forward, barrelling toward the Ragabash. Bloods-Bane jumps back and gives a half-hearty growl to the two. I will take you both. As he glares between the two, tail held high as well as his head. He's boasting of course. A grizzled, dark-furred male wolf watches from a short distance, having only recently come onto the scene. Grey stands quite still, ears perked forward. Power-Up's tail ratchets up to underline his claim to dominance. He meets the ahroun's charge full-on, nipping at the side of her head as she charges and tries to push him back, not without some success. He growls. Requiem! To me! This upstart must be shown her place! he cries, changing stance shamelessly in order to summon Bloods-Bane's assistance. Teetering on the knife-edge between adolescence and adulthood, this male wolf is not quite yet fully grown, and is just that tiny bit misproportioned as proof of his age and status; paws still oversized, ears likewise, legs a little long and thin for his body. But those who know wolves will see every sign that before long he should shed these lingering traces of cubhood and fill out into the classic wolven adult. His fur varies from a mid-brown down his back, fading to a rather paler light biscuity shade on his underside. Head's at one end, tail's at the other, legs underneath. His green eyes are keen and sparkle as though some intense feral fire has been kindled behind them. Walks-Middle jumps back at Power-Up's cry, also taking on a more dominant stance, although with a playful undertone. Ha! Upstart, yes, but you two need to be shown /your/ places! Is Requiem lost? She backs up a step, crouching, watching the other two warily. The young wolf's fur is a silky gray, although one leg and her underside is white, except for the long, deep scar that runs across her abdomen. She has pointed gray ears, eyes that are a light green with dark circles near the pupil, and a rounded, black nose. Bloods-Bane paws at the ground and looks to Middle. His head is held up high and a grin ratchets across his teeth. He then moves in to the two, coming just within range. Can you not win with this battle, Power-up? He looks to Stacey and playfully snaps at the air between them. Amber eyes glow from sunken sockets hidden deep within the dark grey fur of this wolf's muzzle. The black tips of the fur itself give the coat a deeper color and blend in with the white deeper in the fur. Large paws pad at the ground with almost silent steps and look as if he had stepped into paint as they are covered with a light grey. The wolf's broad shoulders form down into firm haunches that move over muscled and formed tissue. When his mouth is opened, bright white fangs shine out from pink gums in a mock smile... Or a snarl if you happen to catch him at the wrong time. Grey, meanwhile, lifts his muzzle to give the air a sniff or two, and then shakes himself and starts toward the mock-serious confrontation. He's in no hurry, but his body language lacks the others' playfulness. Power-Up's nose twitches as the wind brings him the scent of a fourth wolf, one that for a moment he doesn't recognise before he recalls the identity of his tribemate, rarely seen in lupus by him. The scent seems to strengthen his resolve, as though he's determined to prove himself before Grey. Of course I can! he barks, and suddenly springs to one side, away from his confrontation with the Gaian, whom he leaves to her own devices, and onto the Get's back. Submit! I caught you! I am on top of you! Walks-Middle straightens up as Power-Up tackles the Get, tail swaying back and forth. Tricked by a No-Moon. He caught you! she whuffs at Bloods-Bane, teasing. As Grey draws nearer, she turns to look in his direction and chuffs a light-hearted greeting. The Get galliard growls and does a fast maneuver that amounts to a spin to throw his packmate off his back. If he succeeds, it is another quick movement to go for the throat, playing or no playing... There is still who is top dog. (No pun intended) The greeting by Grey goes unnoticed. Grey's scent is full of the typical urrah smells of the city and chemicals -- motor oil, concrete, metal, and cleaning fluids of all kinds. Add in the stink of recently-smoked cigarettes and you get an overall unpleasant mixture. He draws up alongside the Child of Gaia, greeting her with polite aloofness, and then watches the two Fenris-followers spar, his eye critical. Power-Up is, at the end of the day, lighter than Bloods-Bane, and less experienced in combat both play and real. The galliard's body-twist throws him off and he finds himself sprawled on the ground, on his back, with his packmate's teeth lightly but firmly at his throat, looking up at Grey and Walks-Middle from an inverted position. He whines sadly at the Get. I submit. You are stronger. This time. Walks-Middle turns back to watch the struggle between the packmates as well, chuffing encouragement. She falls silent for a moment as Power-Up goes down, then gives an approving glance to Bloods-Bane. Bloods-Bane releases the neck of his packmate and gives a chuff. Remember that. He says in a playful tone with just a hint of underlying seriousness. It is then that the scent is acknowledged and he looks to Grey. With this, his tail sags a little bit. The wolf way of saying, "Okay. He'd kick my ass." A slight bow of his head is given. Grey stares at the Get a moment more before turning to address his tribemate. Mildly, he reminds the younger Glass Walker how he'd warned him about meeting an opponent who was as fast as he, if not faster. Then he asks if any have seen the Truthcatcher. Power-Up ducks his head a moment. Yes, I remember, he tells Grey with a hint of reluctance as he rolls out from under the Get. I have not seen him for a moon's turn or more, but perhaps Walks-Middle has because she is a Guardian now and spends all her time here. He regains his feet and bumps his head into Dillen's from one side, gently, his tail now a good deal lower than before, the gesture one of friendly submission. Walks-Middle perks up as she's mentioned, looking proud about the Guardian bit. She tilts her head as she looks at Grey. The one called Treeclimber? No, she has not seen her. Her scents on the bawn are old. Bloods-Bane gives a shakes of his fur and looks to Grey. I have not seen either, nor heard anything. Grey huffs, annoyed but unsurprised, and gives himself a brisk shake before sitting down. Nevermind. Is there any news? Power-Up shakes himself free of dirt and dead leaves. There were big Wyrmy rats in the city, he tells his tribemate. I helped kill them all. But they made me sick. I am well again now. And we will be cleaning the place that they spawned soon. Kills-Cries will be with me, but more would be good. Walks-Middle sits down, settling. There is not much news out here, but I have been busy patrolling. Something attacked my pack at the edge of the bawn in the east, but got away. I do not remember, but think it used me. Bloods-Bane shifts into his homid form and looks to Grey. "There are some scrags in the city that I need to ge ta group together to go take them down. Been sorta out of sorts in the Galliard way since the wedding." He folds his arms across his knees and reaches over to pop Kevin one in the head. Grey's ears perk forward with keen interest at both bits of news from the members of Requiem, Kevin's bit in particular. He indicates a willingness to help with a curt, businesslike noise and gesture. Then he turns and stares inquisitively at Walks. Used you? Power-Up tumbles over again and gives a plaintive yip to Dillen, protesting the unfairness of that sly blow. He too returns to homid, and scoops up his coat and cap. "You Fenrir bastard," he snorts, not angrily, to Dillen. "I'm damn well starving, I'm going to grab a snack at the farm." Walks-Middle lowers her head, looking away and ashamed. Yes. I felt things. Watching. Tasted bad. Shifted to war form. Don't remember! I don't! Then I was in two-leg form. Circle Keeper pointed his spear at me... Pierces Ice-rhya was bleeding from her back. They Cleansed me. Bloods-Bane looks to Middle and shakes his head. "Circle Keeper is an okay guy, but he is pompous." He lifts a hand to Kevin, "Get some rest, you look weak!" Obviously a jab at his packmate. Grey lays his ears back, looking profoundly disturbed at the Gaian's tale; he sidles away from her, showing his teeth briefly. Kevin half-turns back to Dillen as though to challenge that taunt, but the memory of his recent show of throat to his packmate is too strong to allow him to argue with him so soon. "I'll see you later, big man," he replies instead, using a term of address he more usually reserves for Brom, and with a not unperky wave to Grey and Stacey he departs. Walks-Middle gets even lower to the ground, backing away, looking hurt. This one was not tainted. Don't understand what happened. Pierces Ice said we need a Theurge to find what attacked us in the Umbra. Grey recovers himself somewhat, covering his fangs and giving himself a thorough shake, nose to tail. Even so, he still looks ill-at-ease. I see. Yes, a Theurge would help you immensely. Walks-Middle glances between the two, looking more uncertain now. I should go find my cub. He is staying in the woods now. She takes a step back. I should make sure he is not getting into trouble again. Grey acknowledges this. He will continue walking the bawn. If you see Treeclimber, please let her know that I wish to speak to her. Walks-Middle will tell her, yes. The young wolf glances up at Bloods-Bane. Take care, friend. If you see Far-Cry, greet him for me. Grey turns away and heads off. [...] By the Waterfall The walls of the canyon surrounding the caern reach upwards to thirty feet here, their highest point. About two-thirds of the way up, a small underground spring exits the rock face. The water spills playfully down the cliff face, caressing the rocks and darting away, but always falling to gravity's inexorable pull. The flow, upon entering the shallow, chilled pool of water at the bottom, creates constant ripples in the puddle's surface. A light mist rises up from the ground near the pool, chilling to the bone. The forest surrounding the caern's border is far less dense than the rest of the nearby forest, with ferns and clumps of aspen taking the place of white pine and birch. Scattered, centuries-old cedar stand majestically over their fallen, decaying, moss-covered comrades. This peculiarity seems to surround only the area just outside the caern. To the west, cool mist kicked up by the falls mingles with warmer steam from geothermal sources; these mists swirl around the caern to the north. The caern's center lies northwest of here. You can pick out what seems to be a hazardous trail over rock and up the wall, to the side of the waterfall. The weeks have found the Gatekeeper scarce, and in the past handful of days or so, all that most could catch of her is a fleeting glance and an obvious desire to avoid company. The moonless, rainy night finds Heals-the-Rifts crouched next to the waterfall, staring down into the mist and ripples as water drips down and soaks her fur. The weather seems to match her miserable-looking mood. Touch Deer wears homid as he treads his way into the Caern, expression locked in neurtral. His footfalls are rather heavy tonight, and he heads directly to the Gatekeeper. "I heard." Nothing hinting at empathy, a detachment in his tone, but it is soft. Grey enters the caern only moments after Touch Deer, though the fact that he's coming in from another angle makes it clear that the two are not together. His hair hangs in wet ropes past his shoulders, and his coat, though not precisely waterproof, is thick enough to keep the worst of the rain off his skin. At least for now. His expression is, as usual, pensive and closed. There's a tug in the muscles around the Hispo Child's face, ears starting to get pulled back but restrained from laying flat. Rifthealer doesn't raise her head from between her shoulders, though her head shifts so she can regard the Sept Alpha's face out of one gold eye. The stare is brief and emotionless, barely lingering before her gaze turns back to the pool. She appears a beast that no longer walks this earth, a primitive carnivore called a Dire Wolf. Sleek in her massive bulk, for all her size she appears a fast and agile creature with an unnatural intelligence and spirit burning behind yellow eyes. The coarse, thick fur on her body is black as pitch, shining with highlights of red and shadows of blue. From just under her chin to the base of her throat runs a shock of bright white fur, with the same coating the last few inches of her tail. On her right forepaw can be seen the puckered white line of a scar that twists into a vague pattern, making it seem it was done by no accident or fight. Around her neck is a small circular mirror, set in a simple black cord binding. Touch Deer notes Grey with a nod. "Grey." And back to Rifthealer, he says, "Justin reported to me what happened at the Council, and what was said, by everyone. Grey greets the Wendigo with a nod, the barest inclination of his head, and moves to stand over near Rifthealer. Hands folded into the pockets of his coat, he says nothing for the moment. Making her way towards the Caern is Alicia, brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she skims through the dark evening. As she crosses paths with the others, she pauses for a moment, before letting her body differ slightly in sight of Touch Deer. "Evening, everyone." From the rock outcropping, Fights-For-Hope takes the trip into the Caern in lupus and does so with a quickness and proficiency that shows much familiarity with the terrain. After a moment, the Gatekeeper responds to Touch Deer from her place sitting beside the pool. ~I am glad someone knows.~ She doesn't sound happy about it, though. ~Do you plan to get involved?~ She asks and looks to Touch Deer again. From the rock outcropping, Fights-For-Hope makes his full way down and heads on over to those gathered by the Waterfall. Touch Deer answers with a readiness that hints at preparation. "I've thought about what was said at the council. I did not know the Philodoxes were going to pass a judgement on Jeremy, I only thought they were investigating all the accusations, and were going to pass judgement on you, and Abraxas. I also hear that some, Brom for example, refused the decision. I think I have to get involved, for several reasons, but most importantly because if a threat to our Sept exists in the city, I should be the one that decides what is done. At this point, I feel it is that." Grey's jaw tightens. His voice is forcibly calm as he says, firmly, "Jeremy is not a threat to the Sept. As I would have told any of the /judges/ investigating this matter if they'd had the forethought, not to mention courtesy, to speak to me about him." Fights-For-Hope as he walks up to the group growls out, ~I too have heard details of this... problem with Abraxas. The question is simple... did the Kin actually break a law of the litany or no? If no, then the Philodoxes can just shut up. It isn't their domain. If yes, then the punishment must be in line with the law that was broken. I sware, it sounds as if any philodox in this sept considers themselves equal to all the others. As if the Garou were not part wolf.~ Fights-For-Hope pages to the room: CAuse I'm a doof, doing all that mother's tongue in lupus, consider me having taken on Hispo first. :) The Child of Gaia Elder opens her mouth, but clicks it shut soon as Grey, then James begin to speak. She crosses over to stand at Dakota's side, eyes narrowed as she watches the Alpha. Rifthealer turns her gaze more fully on Touch Deer as the Theurge sits up straighter, ears lifting from her head. ~If I may suggest, Cries-No-More-rhya, what I think we need, perhaps to help resolve this but also to prevent more problems in the future, is to look to the traditions of the Nation. A Council of Elders. Let the Philodox say their opinion as if their place as Law Keepers, but let those of experience, who have proven their Honor and Wisdom to make the final judgement. Let the voices of the Elders hold weight here, as it should be. I, for one, would feel far better in being judged by my equals who I stand beside.~ Touch Deer shakes his head, firmly, from nearly beginning to end of everything being said. "There will be no Council of Elders deciding what was done about Jeremy. I decide. He carried silver and threatened a Garou with it, and said he was crazy. That is a threat. That is a very, very dangerous threat." His eyes are on Grey as he says this. "And what is, or is not a threat, is for me to decide. Elder Councils are important, and we have them. But they are not for deciding whether or not kin, with no more sense than a child, carrying silver, and threatening a war...whether we should deal with that kin, and how. And, it isn't for the Philodox to decide, either." A pause, and then he says, "But my Elders are experienced, and their thoughts on matters are important. I may ask to hear them, if I feel there is time. I have to speak with Leslie, who is going to return in a few days, to get some details straight." Fights-For-Hope snorts and paws agreement with the Alpha's words. He moves closer to stand beside him, far enough away to regard both the alpha and the others gathered around. ~The only threat he offered was to Abraxas. He has been loyal, and his help immessurable. I've told a foe that I was crazy before to impress fear upon them. Its a tactic, nothing more. Even Fenris knows when to be tactical to a foe that has an instinctual fear, to prey on that fear. It's called warfare, and if Abraxas killed an innocent kin, Touch Deer. His death would be on /my/ hands. I'd deal with my own consequences afterwards.~ Grey's nostrils flare, anger roiling behind his eyes. He's about to speak, but the Warder speaks first, and he holds his tongue during it... though he gives the Get a narrow-eyed glance of mingled surprised and suspicion before turning his attention back to Touch Deer. "Jeremy turns to bravado when he's afraid," the Glass Walker confirms, in clipped tones. "Yet he's never harmed a Gaian Garou. /Never/, not even under the worst provocation." "If someone told me they were ganna kill me and my husband in cold blood, you can bet I'd tell em' where to shove it." Alicia says with a snort as she glances over to James, then to Grey, nodding her head in agreement. "Sides, from what its been seen and heard, Dakota's words have been tested true by multiple philodox's, including Grey himself here. There was no threat, only hurt pride." At this, a growl begins to form in the throat of the Gatekeeper as she rises to her paws. ~The gun was not raised! There was no threat made with the silver. I have said many times, before many Philodox, under the gift of Truth finding, and none questioned me. The words of my mate were spoken out of the Curse, out of fear. Can you blame him, a human, for having to resort to words to protect himself? Even after all that has happened to him, never once has he threatened harm. If any were to harm Bitter-Harvest, it would have been me.~ Anger flies into Touch Deer's eyes, directed at Dakota. He stands squarely to face her, expression a solid mask of Rage. "I heard what he said. I know what he threatened. And all the while, carrying a silver-loaded gun in his hand. I am hearing all of what is said, here..." And he looks about at the group, "But I am not calmed. I am not trusting of this kin. /At all/. The mere fact he owned this silver-loaded gun, /and/ he told people it was in his truck, and that he had it with a cub, and threatneed the cub with it. Even if he did not have it then, that enrages me. I want this gun brought to me immediatley, by tomorrow. Along with whatever other silver he carry...and he is not to leave this city until I have decided what to do about him. If he does, or if I do not receive his weapons in a timely manner, I will have him found and killed. My orders will be obeyed. After I speak with Leslie, I may call the Elders to give me their Council, and then I will decide what will be done." True to the name she once held, in the face of Touch Deer's Rage there is not a flinch from Heals-the-Rifts. She stands with stiff legs, her posture not speaking of dominance, but determination. ~I hear your words, but it would seem you have not heard all there are to hear. I have always known of the silver. I know where it is kept. I am not a fool to let it linger under my roof unchecked. I would like to know who claimed he said he held silver in the car, because he did not. My cub also said false things, though without his knowledge. There was no silver threatened, and I made sure to inform both my cub of his error in not coming to his elder's first to sort the issue, and my mate for even speaking of such a threat. Also, my mate has not been here since a few days after this problem arose, under my orders to take our family away until this issue had been resolved.~ Grey seethes, but he seethes quietly, hands tightened into fists in the pockets of his coat. If looks could kill, though, Touch Deer would be a little pile of Pure One ash right about now. In Glabro and limping, Vera picks up the pace when she hears raised voices from around the Caern. A heavy brow dominates the brutish and ugly face of a woman who stands close to seven feet tall. Muscular arms strain against clothing that fits, but was not designed to be worn by such a being. Pointed teeth occasionally poke past the woman's lips and her black eyes have all the warmth of a week-dead fish. Rising up into the Crinos form, Guards-The-Flame steps in between Touch Deer and Heals the Rifts, narrowing yellow eyes as her body takes upon a silver furred glow. ~Her words have tested true, Touch Deer. Are you saying that the Half Moon's gift was in error, or do you not trust your own Gatekeeper who has served this Sept loyally in both honor and wisdom? She is of Stag's children. She is bound by honor, do not forget that. I do not agree with death, on any side. My territory was violated and none has came to /me/ to discuss this situation. Should I cry out that I was wronged? You do not see me calling for BitterHarvets throat when he threated /my packmate/ and spit on /my territory/.~ Fights-For-Hope stands taller now, hackles raised. ~You are surrounded on all sides by reason and stick to some misguided belief that the kin is somehow at fault? The rules we have put in place for silver were not there before. He did what I would have /wanted/ him to do. Abraxas is a threat to any he comes across and shouldn't have been allowed to join us in the first place. His very mouth shows his true nature. This isn't a /metis/ thing, its just him. So Touch Deer, you decide wisely, or you will have a Sept of challengers after your honor and wisdom.~ Touch Deer's hands clench, and his Rage boils, but his voice maintains an even tempered cadence, and doesn't raise. "I'm surrounded by Garou forgetting their place. This is not a debate, and if I hear another threat, from you, Alicia, or you, James, to my authority, it /is/ a Challenge to my position, and you will fight me for it. I want the kin back in the city as fast as travel will take him starting tomorrow, and I want the silver, all of it, however much there is." He matches eyes with every single Garou, in turn, invitingly, completely confident. While clearly injured, it is impossible to miss Vera's good breeding and grace when she raises her voice, bringing attention to herself. "Would someone please tell me what the /fuck/ everyone is arguing about? And why someone just shifted into the warform in front of their fucking Sept Alpha and activated a Gift of war? Everyone will revert to their fucking birth forms /right now/!" Fights-For-Hope shoots a glance to the coming Adren with hackles still raise and a growl coming to his throat... when he seems to realize just who it is. Which is when he drops to the homid form and lowers his eyes. The Child of Gaia Elder for a moment almost looks all too eager to leap into the fray at the Alpha's challenge. Shifting down into the homid form, Alicia furrows her brows, then glances over to the Adren for a moment before saying. "I need a fucking drink." Grey stares right back at Touch Deer, his jaw locked, his face and body rigid with fury. Perhaps fortunately, he's distracted by Vera's arrival; the woman gets a narrow-eyed look from him, taking in form and feature, and then he takes a single step backwards. His breathing is slow and very deliberate, controlled, nostrils flaring with each inhalation. Touch Deer's words only seem to make Rifthealer's anger greater. ~What wisdom is there in killing every kin who feels fear? Jeremy was willing to stand beside me to fight Dancers if they were there, which is the /only/ reason I ordered it to be brought! What greater loyalty is there than that, for a kin to want to fight the war alongside us, even when they know the odds?!~ At his words Jeremy is to be returned, the fur along the body of the Gatekeeper rises, ears flattening and tail going stiff as the growl in her throat rises along with her Rage. The words of Vera reach her ears, and for a moment she doesn't move, but then sluggishly reverts to her homid form but with no less Rage in her eyes. Vera finally reaches the group and stands at Touch Deer's right, leaning heavily on her uninjured leg. The Glabro is wearing heavy bandages on her right leg and left shoulder. Dark eyes scan those gathered and a low growl echoes in her throat. "Now," she clips the word off sharply, voice especially rough in this form. "From what little I have heard, you are arguing about the Glass Walker Kinfolk by the name of Jeremy. I have but one question; why?" The Shadow lord directs this question toward Touch Deer, dark eyes humorless. Touch Deer looks about, jaw working. "The kin held a silver gun in his hand and when a Garou told him to put it away, Jeremy loaded a bullet into the chamber. He said he was crazy, and if the Garou, Abraxas, stepped towards him, he would start a war. He also told a cub he had a silver gun, and that he would kill him if he attacked him. I have received various stories, and various challenges to my position, over the matter." Vera grunts softly. "I have heard some stories as well." That stated, she looks over at Jamethon. "Do you have anything to add?" Jamethon eyes the Ragabash for some time at her question and then nods his head. "The kin in question has not broken any tenets of the litany. From his view, he protected himself and everyone around from a deranged metis known to be a problem and an unstable risk to this sept. He hasn't pointed the gun at anyone and the tactics he used were that of word and percieved threat. Just as any with wisdom in their warfare would do when they know themselves to be the weaker warrior in the fight and must find /some/ way to even the odds against them. Rules we have in place now for silver were not in place then. He should be praised for his actions now and in the past as he has fought for Gaia and many memebers of this Sept for so long as to be an honored and valued /part/ of this Sept." Vera nods once, then turns her attention to Alicia. Jamethon looks to all gathered. "I've said my peace, and I must attend to my duties as Warder." "Abraxas came on to my pack territory, and made a bad situation even worse by threatening to kill my pack mate, and her mate. When Dakota tried to resolve the issue with Abraxas, he continued to threaten. The kinfolk did not raise the gun, nor did he threaten Abraxas with the silver. Multiple Half Moons have came to Dakota and tested her words with the gift. Each time, she passed and proved that the kin in question did not do anything but get freaked out when an Ahroun, standing in a pool of blood, started screaming hysterics at everyone. Overall, the situation was shitty. Dakota is a child of Stag, a pack of honor. Her words are truth, there was no threat." Alicia says with confidence in her words, though her eyes are off the Adren. Vera's eyes narrow, expression darkening. Finally, she turns to Dakota and waits for her to speak. With that, the Warder looks towards the the other side of the Caern from where he entered and begins moving around the proper direction of the old wheel to leave the Caenr. Dakota speaks up as the Shadow Lord looks to her. "I would not have brought Jeremy if other Garou were present to come with me, but none were. He was my only choice for backup when we were called to retrieve the cub, and being only two, I asked Jeremy to bring the silver for our protection. I had no idea what we were to face. When I arrived, there was only Abraxas and the unconcious cub, though I later discovered Blackriver had been present at some point. No sooner do we enter, than Abraxas proceeds to begin screaming at us, telling us to point the gun away. He was close to Frenzy, so no, I would not tell my husband to put away the gun that could be the only thing saving his life if I could not protect him. The gun was loaded after Abraxas threatened both the life of myself and my mate, but it was I who threatened harm to him from my claws. Jeremy only asked for my orders and I told him to call Trent and make sure the scene was cleaned to preserve the Veil. The gun was never raised beyond pointing at the floor. Ever. Abraxas knew my station and knew he was on my territory, which he lied about at moot. I tried to reassure him to calm down so we could resolve the situation, but he insisted on threatening us. He even tried to harm me through use of his gifts when I followed him as he took away the Dancer cub, which I did to preserve the safety of the sept as well as himself, in case any Spirals found us. My packmate, Yi, then arrived shortly and after nearly needing to force Abraxas to listen to her, calmed the situation down enough to see it resolved. As stated, I have stood before Philodox of several tribes and none have questioned the truth of my story. I am a daughter of Unicorn, who speaks with wisdom, and Stag who holds honor highest. I speak the truth." "Truth is a relative thing, molded by opinion," Vera states blandly and almost dismissively, then turns her attention to Grey. "Now, I shall ask you for your name," she states. "And any opinions you have on the matter. I am Vera's full Garou name is as follows: Vera Culls-The-Herd, also known as Separates-Wheat-From-Chaff. Adren Ragabash of the Shadow Lords and daughter of Black-Fang, Fostern Philodox. Granddaughter of Rides-The-Lightning, Adren Ahroun and once Warder of the Sept of Dark Snow, and great granddaughter of Finds-The-Lost, Fostern Ragabash. Elder of the Shadow Lords of the Hidden Walk." Touch Deer shows no signs of calming amid the various stories, and in fact, things seem to be boiling even hotter for the Ahroun after all is said. His gaze flirts, hotly, from Alicia, to Grey, to James, and particularly to Dakota. Grey has had plenty of time to rein in his temper, and now he speaks perfectly calmly and perfectly evenly... and with no outward surprise at who and what Vera is. "Thomas Grey, Philodox of the Glass Walkers. And I say again, that Jeremy has served this Sept loyally for years. For longer, in fact, than most Garou currently at this Sept. If he /were/ a danger to the Sept, I would kill him myself. But he has never harmed one of us, and he has never even set foot on the Bawn further than the farmhouse." He addresses his remarks somewhere around Vera's shoulder -- very carefully not meeting her eyes. Vera nods slowly and falls silent for half a minute, before she speak. "Why, pray tell, do you not go to the Half-Moons with your complaint? You speak strongly of truth and opinion, but you would be foolish to not realize that both truth and opinion are very relative things. What you believe to be Truth, will not be the Truth in the eyes of another who witnessed the very same event. This is something that should be dealt with by a council of the Sept's Philodox and a decision should be made. The decision of the Philodox are final in such matters and it is dishonorable to argue otherwise." Vera's eyes narrow and her expression darkens and holds all the warmth of a shark. "Unless you have proof to the contrary Dakota, do /not/ accuse another Garou of lying. To do so is dishonorable and foolish. Unless Abraxas' words have been tested by the half-moons gift, you have no right to call him a liar." A pause. "Now, unless you plan to Challenge Touch Deer for the position of Alpha, I strongly suggest that you all submit to those higher in station and obey his ruling about Kinfolk and Silver, then go to the Philodox with your complaint about Abraxas. He will be punished for what he has done wrong, if the Philodox decided that he has done wrong." "They already have decided he is in the wrong." Dakota says. "I heard so from Blackriver, who sat in the Philodox Council that already occured, where not all Philox were included, among them one from Jeremy's tribe. A Council where they said they would kill my husband without telling his tribe or mine. Is that not disrespecting another's territory?" "As for Abraxas lying at moot," Dakota says, "He did and no Philodox has argued with me otherwise. He was aware of my station and name before the night this occured, when I reaffirmed to him who I was and that he was on my territory. At moot, he claimed he did not know who I was, my station, or that he was on my territory." Grey holds his tongue, his eyes hooded and his scarred face completely stony. Touch Deer's eyes hold outrage, but his voice, too, is now controlled. "As so many have noted, Abraxas made grave mistakes, and was judged for it at a Philodox Moot. As was Dakota. Both were to undergoe the Stone of Scorn. As for the kin, he was to be killed. Brom and Jeremy were not at the Moot, as was said." Touch Deer adds on, "Brom came to the moot, halfway through." Grey's eyes narrow. "That is not at all what Sabina told me." Touch Deer replies, "That is what Justin told me." "Then," the Glass Walker retorts, "one of them is lying. Or mistaken." Touch Deer then asks, "What did she say, differently?" Vera's chin lifts, as she looks down at Dakota with the eyes of a corpse. "Just because no Philodox has argued otherwise, does not mean that he was tested with the Half-Moons gift. You do not have the ability to read minds and as such, do not know for certain that Abraxas knew of your station before your confrontation." Vera smirks, a flicker of amusement showing. "Unless you are some sort of Warper with the ability to read minds and have failed to tell us this. From what I have heard, he did disrespect your Territory when he would not submit once you told him of your position. He will be punished for that act. I do not question that he was a fool and and idiot and deserves to be punished, but that is a decision for the Philodox to make. They will decide his punishment." Vera looks over at Touch Deer and inclines her head. "It seems that decisions have been made, but not finalized. Otherwise, Abraxas punishment would have been handed down." At Grey's words, the Shadow Lord chuckles softly. "As I said, Truth is a relative thing and often distorted. From what I am hearing, a second Philodox council needs to be called and a final decision needs to be made, as there is much confusion surrounding the original Council meeting. All involved should be allowed to say their piece, a decision should be made by the Philodox and /all/ of you," she looks pointedly at the two Gaians and Grey. "will abid by their decisions without complaint." "/Yes/ I do know that he knew." Dakota states firmly, irritation rising again. "I healed him after a fight with Brom and introduced myself in full rank. And I was informed I was being tested with the gift when I was questioned. I have been told by Blackriver there is to be a second, final Council, where I am under the belief the elders of the Children of Gaia and Glass Walkers, as well as all Philodox and involved parties will be present." "Dakota, lets go and reflect upon this night. Going back and forth will not change anyone's minds. For tongiht, we'll keep the peace, as our tribe promotes." Alicia says finally after a long reign of silence, reaching over to tap her cousin on the shoulder. "Come on, lets go home." Touch Deer promptly turns to Vera, and speaks curtly, "I see you have taken control of the situation, when I could not, without four eyes bearing down on me with Challenge in their eyes. With your Rank, and your experience, you should make make good on your promise to challenge me for Alpha. Because, I'm giving it to you." Grey's expression remains bland. "As you say," he says, eyes cutting from Touch Deer to Vera, "there's to be another meeting, and further discussion." His voice is bland, too. The Wendigo's announcement provokes a minor narrowing of the eyes, but no more. "No you /DON't/," Vera snaps, spittle appearing on Glabro lips as she meets Dakota's eyes in Challenge. "Memory is a fickle thing. What you remember is not what another will always remember. I have been ferreting out secrets longer then you have been Garou. Unless Truth of Gaia has been used, there is no proof of what another remembers. Even then, the Gifts of Gaia can fail," Vera rumbles darkly. If Vera hears Touch Deer's words, she does not react, totally fixated in staring down Dakota. "Then ask those who I have spoken to, among them Leslie, Sabina, and Blackriver, and ask if they tested me and if I spoke truth or falsehood. I have told them my story, from that day in the barn onward. It is the Council who holds secrets, not me." The tension on Dakota's body screams, teeth gritted as she talks, but the Adren's rank wins out. Dakota turns, walking past Alicia and moving to leave the caern. A look of disgust crosses over Alicia's face at Touch Deer's words, then moves her gaze back to Vera. She is breathing slowly, obviously reigning in her own anger. "Grey, let us know what the Half Moon's decide. I wish your family good luck. Good night, everyone." She says as she turns and follows after Dakota. Grey simply nods in response to Alicia. Touch Deer wears disgust all over his face, as well, a look he carries with him as he dips his chin to Vera, says "Goodnight," and walks out of the Caern, southward. This, of course, leaves Grey alone with the Shadow Lord Adren, to whom he turns his guarded, mismatched eyes. The rain's stopped long since, but his hair still hangs wet around his face as he gauges her mood. As the pair of Gaian's leave, Vera literally begins to foam at the mouth and looks like is is about to loose control for a good minute. "How dare she," she hisses darkly. "Talking back to an Adren in such a manner and then turning her back on me. How dare she come to Touch Deer on such a matter, when a second Council has already been called. Dishonorable bitch," Vera seethes. Forcibly, Vera brings herself back under control and makes a point of straightening out her clothes. She looks in the direction that Touch Deer has retreated, lips pressing together. "You," she suddenly snaps, turning on Grey very suddenly. "I have heard of you. You have been here for a long time. I need to know some of this Sept's history. I want you to tell me what you know of the Shadow Lord Kenneth, one called Lucas, and the assignation of one of the old Shadow Lord Elders." Grey's scarred face remains closed, and he stands quite straight and still -- not stiff, but controlled. Disciplined. "You mean Jarred." He pauses a beat. "I wouldn't call it an assassination, but he did die by their hand. The story is rather involved and... sordid." Vera's expression is ugly, but that isn't to hard considering her currently form. "I would like to hear of it. Kenneth mentioned on of the old Shadow Lord Elders being killed by his own Tribe and that those who did so had no regrets. A strange thing to tell your new Elder, I would think." Grey grunts, noncommittal. "Jarred had a history of keeping secrets," he begins, "and of using his tribemates like pawns. Lucas and Kenneth, both cubs under his rule, were the most under his influence. On their Rite of Passage, he sent them to make a treaty with local vampires, so that he, Jarred, could have secret allies. During this, Kenneth was castrated. Later, Lucas, an Ahroun, began losing control of his Rage and falling into Thrall. Jarred and Kenneth discovered this, and that Lucas was eating human flesh, but Jarred insisted that they keep silent, that he would take care of things. He did not, and Lucas was eventually discovered. To Lucas' credit, when Alicia brought Signe and myself to collect him for judgement, he was perfectly willing to come. Jarred mocked him for it and provoked his anger. Eventually, Lucas attacked Jarred, and Kenneth joined in. Between them, they killed Jarred, but Lucas died as well." Vera rubs at her jaw, anger receding some and being replaced by a thoughtful silence. "I see. That is an interesting story. I now have a question for you, Grey of the Glass Walkers. Your face, despite your scars, and the way you hold yourself, mark you as one of Thunder's Children. Why then, do you belong to the Glass Walker Tribe?" Grey remains bland, body face and voice. He displays no surprise over the question. "I was cast out a decade ago and chose not to return. I have been Cockroach's since before the turn of the century." Vera's lips thin and she just stares at Grey for a time, before simply nodding. "Non are cast out without reason, but you must retain some worth if the Glass Walkers were willing to take you in." Grey is very careful not to meet the Adren's gaze, nor give any sign of insubordination. "Is there anything else, Vera-rhya?" "There is," Vera continues, tone neutral. "I am in need of Electricity Talens. Your Tribe is the most experienced with such spirits. I would like to have the Theurge of your Tribe to come and speak with me at their earliest convenience. I spoke to Rina of this and asked her to pass on word, but I have yet to hear back from her." "Rina's told me," Grey affirms. "I've yet to have a chance to speak to White Rabbit, but will leave her a message." "That would be greatly appreciated," Vera replies easily. "Thankyou for your time and for answering my questions, Grey of the Glass Walkers. I do not need anything further and you may leave if you wish. May Gaia guide your steps." "Likewise," Grey says, inclining his head politely. He backs off a few steps before turning smoothly to exit the caern, not once looking back.