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Hershey scowls. "_Damn_ straight. Like, get this." She turns toward the Fang. "I sniffed out the blood 'n stuff in Harbor Park. Now, I fuckin' _know_ Alexander, 'n no way in fuckin' hell would he brawl like that in the middle of the fuckin' public. Alexander was _smart_."

Derrick nods fervently. "An' he didn't do crinos in dumb places, either."

Davy comes in from the surrounding forest. He's carrying an army duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His eyes are red and droopy-lidded, adding to his grim expression.

From afar, Derrick is leaning against a tree, although at the moment he's hunched forward with his arms around his legs.

Rends-the-Dark points out quietly, not as if she disagrees, just that it's true, that he was an ahroun under the full moon. She had trouble not frenzying last night and she wasn't in a dominance challenge. She glares at the corpse, as if somehow the look transfers to Kyle. He didn't need to be /eaten/, though.

Hershey nods firmly. "_Damn_ straight. Fuckin' Get prob'bly started the whole damn thing." To Athena, the Gnawer points out, "If Alexander had thought he was gonna fight, he woulda taken it elsewhere. Like inside or out her in th' fuckin' woods. Alexander had the Rage shit, 'n he _knew_ it. No way was he stupid." Noticing Davy belatedly, she gets up and moves toward him, ducking her head to bump it against the Fianna's side. "Hey, bro," she says, a subdued greeting.

Rends-the-Dark lays her head down.

Derrick adds, "And I didn't say the asshole was wrong to frenzy. Just the other stuff."

Davy moves his free arm to give Hershey a brief, hard squeeze. "Hey." His eyes go to the body and he looks a little relieved. "Good. I'd brought something out here for that, but it looks like you guys got it already."

Hershey grins, very slightly and tiredly. "Yeah. Megan did good f'him. We're jus' bitchin' now about the fuckwad Get. What's-his-name."

Davy grimaces, letting his arm drop. "Kyle." He shakes his head, letting his eyes moodily linger on the corpse. "He must have really been pissing in TC's yard for TC to want a challenge in public that close to full moon. He and Pete wouldn't even allow our dominance scraps until the moon was at least half."

Hershey nods, dropping back onto the ground with a sigh. "Fuck."

Davy sits down with her. As the dead seems to have no need for what he brough, he pulls it out and gently tucks it around his packmate: a green-grey Army-issue blanket that helps warm her against the bite of the chilly wind.

Hershey smiles faintly and pulls the blanket around herself. Despite earlier convictions, her eyes start tearing again. "Oh, fuckfuckfuck," she mutters, pushing her glasses out of the way to wipe her eyes.

Davy hunches his shoulders. Roughly, he says, "It's okay to cry, Hersh."

"All I've _been_ doin' is cryin, dammit," Hershey says hoarsely.

Davy glances crossways, at his packmate's face, then back to the body. His voice lacks a lot of its natural melodic spring, but his words seem sincere. "But have you surrendered to your grief, or have you fought it, as you do now? Unless you let go and follow where it leads, it will continue to make sneak attacks." He takes a deep breath and lets it out.

Hershey rubs at her face again and leans against her packmate, her face drawn downwards. She sniffs, wiping the back of her hand across her runny nose. "Both. I guess. I d'no."

Davy manages part of a smile, though it's a pained, hurtful thing to look at. "I accept it, so I have no more tears. But it still burns in me, Hershey." His body tightens against her as he clenches his fists. "It's just so fucking /unfair./"

Hershey nods, tears rolling down her cheeks freely now, though she doesn't sob, just leans against her packbrother. "It bites ass. It bites ass and _likes_ it."

Davy puts his arm around Hershey again. "When Hack..." He trails off and clears his throat before continuing. "When Hack died, it was to save the rest of us. It sucked, but it was a good way to go. And we killed what killed him." His body, which had barely begun to relax a little, grows taunt again. "He didn't die without the pack and end up half-eaten. God, but I want to /hurt/ something for what's been done here."

Hershey speaks after a moment, and keeps her voice low and quiet. "You know... last night, when I was sittin' here, watchin' over him... I kept thinkin' 'bout that 9mm that Alexander had. Ya know, he's got silver rounds f'r that thing."

Davy shakes his head. "I wish it was that easy, Hersh. But if they had rightful challenge, then Kyle's a fuckhead bastard but no criminal to be gunned down. It's for the philodox that hears him to decide." He fixes his eyes on the corpse. "And besides, if it wasn't rightful challenge, I'd want to see him bleed. A gun's not close enough for what I'd want."

Hershey chews on a thumbnail. "If it wasn't no rightful challenge, I wanna see that bastard _flayed_ 'fore he dies."

Davy gives a grunt that seems to agree.

Hershey adds, "Megan said somethin' 'bout lookin' inta the thing."

Davy nods. "Megan didn't always seem to like Alexander, but they had history. I guess it's up to Robert to pick who does the questioning."

Hershey cracks a very small, rueful smile. "Sure as fuck won't be me. I know _that_ already."

Davy gives a snort, then says, "I'd like it to be. Seems right, you know? We knew him best, so we'd know what to ask. But I wouldn't trust any of us with Kyle right now. People'd be saying you'd lie if you said he lied, and shit."

Hershey nods, wiping at her face. "Yeah. A Halfmoon's supposed to be fair 'n unbiased. But I sure as hell ain't."

You say "No one could expect you to be, Hersh. Not with this."

Hershey sighs and buries her face in Davy's shoulder. "Fuck."

Davy uses the arm wrapped around the Gnawer to stroke her unwashed, unruly hair with no evidence of distaste. He continues to stare at the body, as if somewhere deep down, he expects their alpha to get up and live again.

Hershey inhales a shuddering breath and lets it out in a deep sigh.

Davy is sitting next to Hershey on the ground, stroking her hair as she huddles under his arm. The Gnawer is bundled in a green Army blanket. Davy is looking at the corpse and doesn't look up as someone comes closer.

Hershey doesn't look up, either. Her face and eyes are reddened, the former tearstreaked.

Cutter hesitates a moment as he realises he's sharing the space, then gives the pair a wide berth as he moves to a particular piece of ground where he abruptly drops and sits cross-legged.

Davy's eyes flicker to Cutter, but he looks away again.

Cutter wraps his coat tightly about him and tugs the brim of his hat over his face. He completes the isolation by wrapping his arms around himself.

Hershey shifts her eyes toward Cutter and watches him for a few moments before clearing her throat. "...Hey."

Cutter lifts his head, looking toward Hershey, confirming that he's being addressed.

Hershey sits up a little, though she still leans against her packmate. "You, uh..." She pauses. "Kyle's in ya pack, isn't he?" Her tone is wary, strained but not hostile. Not toward Cutter, anyway.

Cutter nods silently.

Hershey fingers with the edge of the Army blanket. "Um. Do you, like... know what happened? I mean, did Kyle say anythin'?"

Cutter shrugs. Here we go again. "They met at the park. Was a challenge. He frenzied. They both lost."

Hershey chews on her lower lip. "Oh," she mutters, disappointed.

Cutter shrugs again. "Sorry."

Hershey sighs. "S'not your fault, man," she says, dully.

Cutter pulls his hat back down after a moment and pulls into himself.

Davy ignores Cutter, his lips in a grim, unsmiling line as he and Hershey talk.

Hershey lapses into silence as well, slouching against her packmate.

A rather charred looking Gnawer pads into the area, then sniffs the air. Shakes chuffs a quiet greeting, then cocks his head.

Stormcloud is sitting off to one side away from the others, mostly still within the woods.

Cutter sits crosslegged in the clearing, withdrawn into his coat and under his hat.

Hershey is huddled under an Army blanket, leaning against Davy with her head down. She doesn't look up. Alexander's corpse is shrouded in a blanket.

Shakes moves slowly forward towards the remains of the City Boss. He turns his burned face to look at Hershey and Davy, almost as if asking permission to come closer. He doesn't borrow trying to mask his sorrow, instead whining softly and holding his body low to the ground.

Hershey stirs a bit and glances up. Her brow furrows at Jimmy's appearance, and she gives her damp face another wipe. "Yo, Shakes," she mumbles, a subdued greeting. "What's up?"

Davy notices Shakes, where he didn't acknowledge Cutter. He waves his free hand, as if to say 'Go ahead.'

The singed Gnawer moves closer to sniff at a respectful distance to Alexander's remains. Shakes sighs, then moves and sits before the members of Edge, lowering his head.

Hershey continues to wattch Shakes with grief-reddened eyes. She twitches the blanket closer around herself. "What th' fuck happened to ya, Jimbo?"

Jimmy Wilson shifts up to a form he can communicate better in. "Ain' 'portant," he says. "Got word from the Chain..." His voice trails off and he points to the Shadow Lord's corpse. "Can I do anything for you guys? Me an' my boys?"

Cutter lifts his hand to his mouth, then drops it to the ground, before he stands.

Hershey shakes her head. "Naw. Ain't fuckin' nothin' t'do." Her frown deepens, tiredly. "Not right now, anyway."

Stormcloud shifts a little where he sits, not trying to stay hidden, just out of the way.

Jimmy Wilson stands and brushes dirt off his pants. "Yeah, okay." He chews his lower lip a bit, then: "How's Pete? Dunno how he'd take this, ya know. 'Spect he's gone psycho already, right?"

Cutter stuffs his hands into his pockets and strides toward the woods, his coat flowing behind him dramatically.

Hershey shakes her head a bit, tiredly. "I d'no. I been out here most of the fuckin' time, so I ain't seen him."

Jimmy Wilson nods at his tribesister. "If he needs someone ta thrash, tell him he can come beat on me, okay? I don't wan' him gettin' in the same kinda trouble I did, goin' after people all pissed off."

Hershey smirks humorlessly. "Yeah, cool."

Jimmy Wilson plops down onto the ground again and sighs. "City Boss was the coolest Lord I ever met, ya know. Maybe the only really cool one, actu'lee." He lapses into silence, closing his eye.

Davy finally says something, his voice dull. "Pete's pissed, but he wanted some time by himself at first. He'll be out here."

Hershey mutters, "Yeah." She quiets again as Davy speaks, and then nods.

Jimmy Wilson just nods quietly at Davy's words.

Hershey straightens up a little and wipes at her face. "We gotta organize somethin'. Like a city wake're somethin'. 'Cos it's lookin' like they ain't gonna let Marie come to th' Gathering."

Davy frowns. "Who said?"

Jimmy Wilson's eye opens, filled with anger. "You gotta be shittin' me," he says between clenched teeth.

Hershey grimaces. "Megan. 'N Moon Otter. 'Course, if Robert says it's okay, then his word goes, but they figure because we're Fog 'n all, Kinfolk gotta be kept out." The Bone Gnawer is clearly unhappy with this decision.

Ravenfeeder enters from the surrounding forest.

Davy scowls. "Then they're shitheads," he says clearly. "Marie did things for the Garou, and they won't even let her come to his funeral?"

Jimmy Wilson growls. "Ya got my place," he says to Hershey. "I'll hook up somethin' in the Roses, sis. No reason Mrs. City Boss should get pissed on by the people that 'preciated all the Boss did for us."

Hershey nods distractedly to Jimmy; most of her attention is on her packmate, her expression stating firm agreement.

Stormcloud only looks around as the others speak, following the conversation from where he sits at the edge of the woods.

Ravenfeeder pauses on the edge of the woods as she catches the English speech, giving Davy a narrow-eyed, speculative look, before she pushes further in, padding slowly and respectfully of the Edge packmates' situation. She chuffs quiet greeting.

Hershey glances up at the wolf sound and bites down on her lower lip, seeing Ravenfeeder.

Davy favors Ravenfeeder with an unpleased look, as her name was attached to the decision he just heard about from Hershey. His face is set in grim lines and his eyes are red and droopy. He sits on the ground with an arm around Hershey, who is wrapped up in a green blanket. The pair are sitting facing the corpse.

Jimmy Wilson is sitting nearby the Edgers, not looking very happy.

Ravenfeeder's ears go up with curiousity at Hershey and Davy's reactions to her arrival, but she also seems to understand, at least somewhat, its source. With a brief glance at Jimmy, she moves forward to bump against Davy in a show of lupus sympathy, looking to Hershey. You talked to someone, then?

Hershey glances at Ravenfeeder, and then glances downwards, fingers tugging at the edges of the Army blanket. "Moon Otter volunteered t'do the Gatherin' ritual, an' he din' think Kinfolk should be allowed." She frowns. "He thinks it's just for Garou."

Davy stiffens a little, but he stays where he is. His scowl softens to a frown.

Ravenfeeder chuffs softly, shifting away from Davy given his reaction. I am not surprised. The Philodox then looks at Jimmy. You are going to have another in the city for him, then?

Jimmy Wilson shrugs. "Maybe."

Ravenfeeder would like to go, if you do. Please let me know?

Jimmy Wilson sighs, looks to Davey and Hershey, then back at Megan. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Stormcloud scratches at an ear, then lies down, still content to watch.

Hershey remains silent, her eyes on the shrouded corpse.

Ravenfeeder backs up another step, then turns her head to look over all three city Garou with quizzical confusion. Why are you all angry at me?

Jimmy Wilson gets up, shifts back to lupus and makes to head out. "I ain't mad at you sp'cifically," he says before taking four-legs. "I'm just in a pissed off mood."

Shakes sniffs the air. He should go back to the city, where he's needed more now than he was before. He's sure that everyone has everything well in hand here.

You say "Later, Shakes." He turns to Ravenfeeder, then. "Hersh just told me you were one of the ones saying Marie shouldn't be allowed to come."

Hershey glances up as Davy speaks, but remains quiet, solemn.

Ravenfeeder's ear tilts as she gives Shakes an incredulous look as he departs, but says nothing, looking back to the ragabash and Bone Gnawer, the latter getting a hard, briefly angry glance. No, that is not what I said. I said that I was not sure if it would be allowed, and that she should ask. This is not a Fianna Sept, where there would be no question.

Davy's body untenses a little. "Oh. That makes more sense." He returns his eyes to the corpse. "I bet she'll blow town, now. I don't think she had many ties to the Garou here, except us, and I imagine seeing us will hurt too much. But I don't want her to blow off the Garou all together. And if I was told I couldn't come, if I was her, I might. Those two weren't married yet, but they might as well have been."

Hershey chews on the dead skin around one thumbnail.

Ravenfeeder flicks an ear, turning mildly sorrowful. I know, I remember when they met. Perhaps you should tell Moon Otter that. He must remember what it was to be human and how that would feel.

Hershey blinks and looks up, brow furrowing slightly. "Uh," she says. "Why would Moon Otter...?"

Stormcloud grunts, a statement on his feelings about that.

Davy rolls his shoulders in a shrug. His voice is dull, even if the words have bite. "I don't think Moon Otter would give a shit about a human or the Garou having a human Kin that still works with us. But I don't know him as well as all that. And if Robert and Brian say she can come, and he won't allow it as Ritemaster, well, I'm sure we could find someone else to lead the rite."

Ravenfeeder tilts her head, taking an uneasy, involuntary step backwards. It has been traditional for the tribe to run the Rite. I just do not want there to be fighting over this as well. I think the idea to have another Gathering in the city for all that his mate and other Kinfolk can attend would be good. He was a Shadow Lord, but I can see what he meant to the city, too.

Davy shakes his head. "Unless you're proposing we carry the body back for the other Gathering, it's not the same. I'm not sure Jeremy cares about saying goodbye, but..." He trails off and shrugs again, hunching over. "Whatever."

Hershey goes back to chewing on her fingernail, having nothing to say.

Stormcloud watches Ravenfeeder for a few more moments, sensing her unease. He stands and trots over to stand near her side.

Ravenfeeder flicks an ear again, taking another step back, having the distinct air of someone preparing to leave. You cannot know what she will say without asking, and if said properly...perhaps it would be enough. Ravenfeeder gives a grimace of mingled pain and sorrow, then looks at both of Alexander's packmates. If you do not wish to do it, I will. She should remember me. She seems about to add more, but after struggling with it, leaves it at that, looking bleak.

"Maybe you should," Davy says wearily. "It might seem more convincing from someone that believes it will do. Though I don't know where she is right now. I called her place last night, and got her machine."

Ravenfeeder's eyes narrow thoughtfully, pausing. Did you try to use your gift to find her?

Davy shakes his head. He coughs, then says bluntly, "I was in the process of getting drunk. It's probably just as well I didn't talk to her." He sighs and tilts his head, as if trying to listen to something. He then nods. "She's toward the city, anyway."

Hershey glances up at her packmate, brow furrowed at news of Marie's absense.

Ravenfeeder chuffs softly. I will see if I cannot find her later, then. Ravenfeeder turns and nudges Stormcloud in recognition for his gesture, but then turns back to the members of Edge, with a return of the uncomfortableness. I came to be sure someone was here...since someone is, I think I will leave, now.

Stormcloud settles back upon his haunches and lowers his head.

Davy gives a grim smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Suit yourself, Megan." He waits, then says, "Hey, Megan?"

Hershey's eyes drop again. The feeling of weary apathy hovers over the usually hyperactive Bone Gnawer like a worrisome cloud.

Ravenfeeder, who has begun walking out, half-turns back at the afterthrought call of her name. Her ears prick towards Davy with faintly wary, mostly quizzical curiousity. Yes?

You say "Hershey told me you found the blanket to cover him up. Thanks." The burly man blinks hard, apparently fighting tears for the first time since he came back today. "Alexander wouldn't have wanted everyone to see him like that."

Ravenfeeder's stance softens and her ears splay out; for a moment she seems to be considering walking back towards Davy, but she catches herself for something more like a respect for Davy's self-image than lack of desire. She looks up at her tribemate with a soft whine of sympathy. He was my friend and once my packmate, too. I knew. She ducks her head with sorrow, hesitating, before turning back around to pad out slowly and with the stiffness of age.

Davy doesn't answer. A couple of tears break away from his reddened eyes and dampen his cheeks, hiding again in his beard. He turns back to looking at the corpse.

Stormcloud watches the elder Philodox leave then stands back up to pace towards the body, walking opposite of where the others now sit.

Hershey glances vaguely up at the Red Talon, then down again.

Stormcloud gives the blanket a light sniff before looking back up at the others. Not understanding its purpose, he decides not to ask, instead turning and walking away.

Davy is sitting with his arm around Hershey, the philodox wrapped in a green Army blanket. The pair are watching the corpse dully, Hershey in an apathetic half-doze against the Fianna's side.

Shea leads Scott in, and stops, at sight of his packmates here. She glances over her shoulder at Scott, then tilts her head toward the corpse.

Scott takes a deep breath as he stops next to Shea, his eyes flickering over to the corpse. Scott then lets out a shallow breath that comes in a half shudder. He moves closer to the body of his friend and former packmate, kneeling down next to the mauled form.

Like his former packmate Hershey, Alexander is draped in a blanket. In his case, though, it's not for warmth but to hide some of the ravages of the frenzy. The dips in the blanket give little doubt on what isn't there, though, as well as what is.

Scott takes in another deep breath, his hand moving to rest on the Shadow Lord's shoulder lightly. The locks of strawberry gold shadow his face and eyes as he bows his head. Finally after a few moments of silence his hoarse voice asks,"What did this?"

Shea clears her throat. "We did. One of us. Garou."

Davy eases Hershey from his shoulder to his lap, as she buries into him for comforting. He tucks the blanket around her wearily, not adding his words while Shea explains.

Scott's eyes dart back to Shea, his head raising. There is anger in his words as he asks,"Who?"

Shea's brow furrows. "Kyle," she answers, and adds, after a moment, "Get."

Scott says shortly,"I know him. Or of him." Another pause as the Galliard tries to gather himself, saying in a clipped tone,"How? And why?"

Shea's shoulders rise and fall. "The fight part's the easy bit to figure out. The whole story, and the why's are anyone's guess. Challenge gone bad, I guess."

Scott's eyes drop to the ground again, saying hoarsely, and quietly,"A matter for the philodoxes, then."

Davy remains locked in a moody silence, though he watches his dead alpha's two ex-packmates with dull eyes.

Shea mmms. "It .. goes that way, sometimes, I expect. It's.. never a good way to go, though." Another shrug. "Any rate. That's it."

A long silence draws out as the Silver Fang simply stares at the Shadow Lord. He breaks the silence by nodding to Shea and then saying softly, seeming to address the corpse,"Rest easy, my friend. You've more than earned it." Scott's voice then begins a soft song that has the feel of a chant to it, in the Mother's Tongue. The Requiem for Warriors.

Davy bows his head, allowing tears to fall from his closed lashes on Hershey's blanket'd shoulder. After he's regainined control of himself, he raises his head again to watch the Silver Fang give this honor to one that should have been his enemy by blood, but was not.

Scott finishs the song, his voice fading to silence before he rises to his feet again. Swallowing, and holding back tears that threaten but don't fall, he movesfirst over towards the two members of Edge. Very quietly he says,"You have my ... sympathies. If there is anything I can do to help you, simply let me know." He pauses, and then adds,"If you need one to assist in the Gathering ... it is a Rite I have performed before. Gaia's light watch over you." With that, he turns towards Shea, his eyes looking empty and lost. As he draws near her, he says softly,"I think I'm finished here for tonight."

Shea, eyebrows drawn tightly together nods once, and turns on her heel, to pick her way back into the forest.

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