Log edited with Logedit 2.6.6pl on Mon Oct 20 19:15:08 EDT 1997

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The Rialto -- Auditorium(#3319RJ) The roar of the crowd. The smell of greasepaint. "Now is the winter of our discontent..." An old, darkly nostalgic quality hangs heavy in the air of this empty old theater. Once black-painted windows no longer refuse the light of sun and moon, now broken and open to the city sky.

Largely gutted now, this once gilded and opulent theater spreads like an old grand dame holding desperately to a past now gone and largely forgotten. The plush seats which once held nearly a thousand people are, for the most part, long gone. Time's indifferent hand has dulled the once ornate proscenium arch and faded the velvet red of the main curtain, leaving the wide stage in dark shadows before the gaping and toothless mouth of the music pit.

At the right side of the stage, from the auditorium floor, a door leads toward the back of the theater. To the left of the stage, an old exit sign still glows above a reinforced door. In the back of the auditorium, archways lead back to the lobby and the boarded up front doors.

Hack shoulders into the theatre near the back, shoving the door closed behind him with a loud bang. He stomps down one of the aisles, hands fisted at his sides, mouth tugged into a fierce grin. "Hey-hey," he calls ahead of him.

Alexander is standing near Davy. The Fianna has a radio that he's pretty much taken apart. Alexander is gesturing wildly, looking furious. "Dumb *bitch* decides to play a prank and howls for help on the bawn. When people show up, she tells them, 'Ha ha, I was just kidding.' Like that's really fucking funny."

Hack throws himself into a seat, boots going up onto the chair back in front of him. "Who this?" he asks, looking from Davy to Alexander.

Alexander looks over at Hack. "Sepdet," he snarls. That seems to be the only greeting he's offering.

Davy also looks interested in the answer, a frown marring his face. "I don't...wait. That's the fucking Groundskeeper?"

Hack grunts, nodding, but just chews the grubby nail of his thumb. "Heard it, heard that name sum. She the woo-hoo, yah, right?" He twirls his finger around one ear and crosses his eyes.

Alexander says "*Ex*-Groundskeeper, but yeah. Her pack's supposed to be the Guardians now that Cerberus is gone. You know, maybe it's just *me*, but I really don't think a fucking *Guardian* should be engaging in behavior that encourages other people *not* come running when she howls for help." Alexander nods to Hack. "Yeah. Fucking nuts."

Davy looks from Alexander to Hack and back. "Listen, I don't know her. I've just heard her name. But is she that tough, that someone hasn't challenged her ass over that?"

Alexander shrugs. "I just found out today. I haven't seen her since. If I challenged her tonight, I'd probably end up killing the idiot." Alexander pages to Hack and Davy: She's got a great tactic. Do something stupid then don't log in for two weeks. Hard to challenge you, ten.

Hack mutters, "Stoopid-dumb," then spreads his yellowish grin across his face, eyes lighting up like he's remembered something. He manages to keep it to himself for now, while Alexander explains about this Sepdet.

Alexander takes deep breaths. "So what's going on?"

Davy eyes the radio. "A lot of slot A and tab B, here." He looks over at the Get. "Hack?"

Hack 'ooohs' loudly and waves both his thick hands, like a child grabbing attention. "Hunt-huntin'? Wanna go, huh, yeah?" He growls, shows his teeth, then stands and paces a few yards down a row of seats. "We sniff sump'in," he says, making the accompanying noises, "Find the sump'in, then rumble. Don't wanna go just me again, yuh know?"

Alexander nods slowly, looking from Hack to Davy once Hack's done. "I can go for that tonight, yeah."

Davy grins. "Well, it might keep me from performing atrocities on the children of Radio Shack. Hell, I'm game."

Alexander says "Anyone here have the Gift?"

Hack stops where he is, straddling the arms of the chair he was just sitting in, and looks questioningly over at Alexander. :Uh?" Hack pages to Alexander and Davy: Rather, "Uh?"

Alexander shakes his head. "Sense Wyrm. I didn't figure any of us did, but it doesn't hurt to ask."

Davy shakes his head. "Bit out of my league."

Alexander says "OK, well, let's just get going. We'll find something once we're through."

Hack nods, hopping down off the chair and slipping into his natural form. He looks more than ready to start. Hack contorts and blurs as he is transformed. Hack shifts into Lupus form.

Davy shoves the radio to one side and stands, brushing off his hands.

Umbral Scab(#3937RJh)

There is no mistaking this place as part of the scab. The webs from pattern spiders are thick with smaller spiders weaving thier webs with what seems to be an ever increasing amount of activity. Underneath it all, scurry smaller, darker, more evil things. The servants of Wyrm that seem to find more and better places to conceal themselves here in the scab's Shadowed Reflection.

Alexander waits until he's on the other side of the Gauntlet before shifting up. Once on the other side, he wrinkles his nose as he looks around the spiritual building. ~Sure looks a lot nicer from this side,~ he growls.

Wears-the-Woad also shifts after stepping through. He looks around, first to the right, then to the left. He grunts, then says, ~I could forget I'm supposed to dislike it, some days.~

Harrier follows his Alpha's lead, shifting up after a few concentrated tests of the Umbral air. As usual, he says little enough, only growling a general, cautious response before casting about for any sign of danger.

Thunder's Claws looks between his two packmates and finally settles on Harrier. ~You've been in the city longer than we have. Take us somewhere good.~

Harrier growls again, this time his enthusiasm showing through. Curling his lip back, he turns flattens his ears and says, ~I can do good.~

Thunder's Claws nods encouragingly and then prepares to follow.

Harrier sets both sets of paws to cracked pavement, setting a fairly quick pace. Following his eyes and ears as much as his nose for now, he leads the others along a few familiar stretches of urban terrain -- away from the Rialto, near Harbor Park, and eventually to the gloomy edges of the wharves. There, he begins sniffing with new enthusiasm.

Hershey pads bipedally along with the others, lugging an obviously Dedicated chainsaw in one big hand. Wears-the-Woad grins at Hershey, his lips pulling back from his teeth in good homid humor. ~You Gnawers have the most interesting weapons.~

Razor runs along with the group, as he is wont to do when they're in the Umbra. *Gonna have some fun tonight.* The packmates understand him despite his odd language. Thunder's Claws indicates Hershey to the Weasel spirit. ~Remember her?~ he asks. The spirit bounds over to the Philodox, sniffing.

Harrier looks up from his scent-searching to eye Hershey sharply for a moment, then his ears twitch with good humour.

Hershey grins back at the Fianna. ~Heck, between this and playing Firestarter, I wreck havok with leeches.~ He pauses, looking down to squint at the rapid fuzzy sharp thing near her feet.

The spirit looks back at Thunder's Claws and asks something in its odd language. The Shadow Lord grins and tells Hershey, ~He wants to know if you're running with us now.~

Hershey hefts the chainsaw and flashes her teeth in a toothy grin. ~Damn straight.~

Thunder's Claws says, ~What about tomorrow night?~

Hershey tilts her head, peering in the Lord's direction. ~I'm there, too, if ya'll have me.~

Thunder's Claws looks at the other two.

Harrier grunts his agreement, but still keeps his nose busy.

Wears-the-Woad gives a single nod.

Harrier gives a surprised whuff, then turns toward the dim reflection of a building that is most likely a warehouse on the other side of the Gauntlet. His stance straightens and his tail begins to wag excitedly. ~I got something over here,~ he growls, a long arm extending to point toward the building.

Thunder's Claws looks over as Harrier speaks, then shrugs at Hershey. ~It's unanimous. Welcome aboard.~ His ears splay slightly with good humor before he returns his attention to the business at hand.

Hershey lolls her tongue out in an extremely pleased grin.

Wears-the-Woad also moves to clap Hershey on the back with one heavy hand, careful to stay on the off side from the chainsaw.

Razor bounds back and forth, running alongside the Garou in excitement.

Harrier bounds a few paces ahead of the others, whining eagerly. ~We can treat her right /after/ we hunt.~

Thunder's Claws lopes after Harrier, ears swivelling at every little sound he hears.

Harrier leads the others toward the warehouse, moving slower than his enthusiasm might normally warrant. His ears shift with the sounds like Thunder's Claws, and his eyes roam the front of the building warily as he nears.

Wears-the-Woad takes a few moments to mark his right check with a single slash of woad. He then takes up the back, moving on all fours.

It's a smell, not a sound that catches your attention here, now. Finding an opening into the umbral warehouse, small pattern webs flake off and fall to the ground as you enter into the building. Inside, reflecting the light of the moon is what appears to be a line of six water 'globs'. They writhe and shake terribly, almost as if they're being held against their will. Slowly, steadily, inexorably, they trundle forward, and a thick black arm seems to slice through the elemental. As the arm passes the middle of the water, the elemental body reforms, and takes on a strangely greenish tint. A moment of study tells you all that is where the smell is coming from -- those colored water elementals. There seem to be three of the globs already 'processed.'

Hershey's nostrils flare as the Gnawers turns her head back and forth, using her weak eyes only to catch vague shapes and movement. She swings the chainsaw a bit but doesn't start it up yet.

Thunder's Claws just looks for a moment as the fourth elemental gets corrupted, then he scowls. ~Fuck. Anyone seen anything like that before?~

Wears-the-Woad shakes his head. ~Looks like something that needs stopping.~

Hershey blows air through her nose, trying to clear it.

Thunder's Claws snorts softly, but doesn't voice the 'Well, no shit,' that he's thinking. He does, however, voice the obvious, ~We need a fucking Theurge. Davy, try and stop the others from getting any closer. See if you can figure out what's holding them. Harrier, Hershey, go for the green ones. I'm on the arm.~

Hershey sneezes again and nods to the Shadow Lord. Dropping to all fours, the Gnawer shifts, the chainsaw vanishing into her fur.

Wears-the-Woad nods. He goes back to bipedal, moving toward the caught water elementals warily.

Slowly, the uncorrupted water elementals continue to plod forward, sloshing around, and shaking. The arm swings down, poised, hanging, almost like it's aware of the Garou, and the elementals stop moving forward to be processed. As that occurs, the four green water elementals cluster around each other and then shimmer and merge themselves into one huge greenish elemental, eye level with the tallest crinos forms and thickly built. The stentch that seems to come from the putrid uberelemental is almost overpowering, and it plods forward slowly, but deliberately toward the Garou. The arm, meanwhile, snakes back into some hidden concealment among the pattern webs overhead.

Thunder's Claws, already charging forward, looks up with annoyance as the arm disappears from view. Muttering a curse, he picks a new target. ~Hello, ugly!~

Hershey flattens her ears back against her head, muzzle wrinkling up with disgust. But it's certainly a /large/ enough target. ~New game plan, boss?~

Thunder's Claws spares only a single word, ~Same,~ as he slashes at the beast with a claw.

Harrier tracks alongside Hershey, not following her down into the four legged form. As the processed blobs coalesce, he stops short, watching it warily and waiting for Thunder's Claws to say what to do now.

Steven pages: The elementals seem to be physically bound by some kind of dark colored "rope" that looks a lot like the arm that was corrupting them. It too is slowly snaking back into a smaller hole in the umbral floor.

Wears-the-Woad keeps moving toward the untainted elementals. He snakes a glance at the giant water beast of doom, but then looks back at his first target. He moves to try to herd them out of danger as the rope begins to retract. ~Git. Party's about to start, and you better be the hell out of dodge. Come on, move.~ Not in the least speaking in spirits, he hopes at least his actions will have the desired effect.

Hershey growls something about how bad this is gonna taste, then makes a lunge for the thing, ducking low as though to hamstring.

Harrier gives his Alpha a quick, final look before moving forward. He drags his already dangerous nails against one of the broken floor tiles, their edge taking on a razor's sharpness, then gathers himself to lunge at the thing's side opposite Hershey.

As the black rope companion to the arm slithers down a small crack in the umbral floor, the Gaian water elementals quiver a final time and then with a massive sploosh, they seem to lose their corporeal form and vanish with a cascade of water that seems to fractionally cover the floor. Meanwhile, Thunder's Claws and Hack take big swings at the corrupted spirit, their claws slashing across the form. It's clear that they hit, but exactly how much damage they do is difficult to gauge because of the constant swirling movement of the water that makes this elemental. Hershey goes low towards the base of the elemental and snaps her totem enhanced jaws closed. A filthy vile chemical coppery taste fills her mouth and she spits out the spirit foo quickly, almost involuntarily retching. The spirit thing goes a couple of long psuedopods and flails at Harrier. The arm shows little speed but lots of brute brawn as it connects with the big Get Galliard with a solid thwack. As the arm connects, a slimy residue with the same stench that lead you here covers his fur. The Get seems almost staggered by the blow.

Wears-the-Woad stars at the floor. ~Well, that worked. I guess.~ He then wastes no more time on elemental-herding, turning to lope four-legged back to the fight.

Thunder's Claws howls as the spirit attack his packmate. He calls out, ~Hey, I'm right here, tough guy!~ as his claws quickly, one-two.

Hershey shakes her head roughly, growlfing. Then she gathers herself and dives in back at the sloshy beastie, swiping at it with her claws this time.

Harrier's breath is pulled from him in a loud 'ooof', and he drops back a few shuffled steps to regain himself. His eyes flash toward Thunder's Claws' distraction, then he adds his own howl and leaps back at the twisted elemental, though slowed by the thing's heavy blow. This time he mimics Hershey's move, trying to maneuver so he can bring his jaws down in a hamstringing move on the opposite side.

Thunder's Claws attacks blur with the characteristic speed of a Garou using the gifts of Luna. His claws swipe another deep puncture into the elemental's form. Hershey goes low again, slashing with her claws at the spirit. They too sink in, but not nearly as effectively as the Shadow Lord's. Finally, Harrier takes a meaty chomp from the elemental's opposite side and has the same unpleasant experience as the Gnawer did, spitting out the sickening taste of the elemental and pausing briefly to keep from retching. As the attacks mount on the elemental, it definitely seems to be getting "smaller" in size, though there is still no "visible" damage. This time, the pseudopod aims a mighty swing for the Ahroun. It looks as if it's going to hit him square in the jaw, and then he ducks under the blow, letting the arm swing wide. Davy rejoins the small group of spirit warriors, behind the elemental. There is a vague hint of motion overhead.

Thunder's Claws, perhaps the least perceptive in the pack and oblivious to the overhead movement, howls with glee and leaps at the elemental, going for its head.

Hershey, the nearsighted wonder, also doesn't notice. She lunges for the big ugly again, making another swipe with her claws.

Harrier doesn't fall back this time, emptying his gut at the base of the water beast and keeping the fight right there -- his claws swing in, left-right-left, too quickly to not be speeded by Rage. The look burning in his eyes says as much when he finally chances a glance overhead.

Wears-the-Woad, being not quite in the thick of things quite yet, also looks up. He moves back to two legs, his hands flexing.

More slime covers the claws of the Garou attackers as they continue to pour on the damage. Bluring with Rage again is Thunder's Claws, and Harrier, followed finally by the Metis Gnawer. All the attacks hit again, and more of the elemental's form seems to slip away. With one huge swing, the Shadow Lord Ahroun claws for the elemental's head like region, and slices through it cleanly. It doesn't seem slowed, although it doesn't offer an attack. The psuedopod retracts into the main body of the water spirit and it churns angrily for a second, finally popping out a new "head." There is a distinct whurring and clacking sound now, as pieces of the pattern webs overhead start to vibrate in rythym with the eerily graceful movement there.

Thunder's Claws hangs on, counting on his Gift to protect him as he attempts to finish off the beast. He drives one arm as far as he can directly into its torso.

Wears-the-Woad gathers his legs beneath him and springs upward, his long and lanky limbs reaching above him to rip and tear--and finally grab hold.

Harrier shoots his Fianna packmate a quick, indesicive look, then looks again to the thing moving above them. He seems torn for a moment, but Wears-the-Woad's attack relieves him of the need to choose -- he opts for simply going after the thing again, Rage still bright in his eyes as his slime covered claws move in to swipe.

Hershey shakes herself briefly, head tilting. Then she picks a spot that isn't occupied by packmates and lunges, rearing up slightly to go at it with her foreclaws again.

The Fianna rips a hole in the webbing overhead and pulls himself up finding a place to stand on the now heavily shaking web. (We'll get back to that in a second.) The Get and the Gnawer slice away more of the corrupted spirit's form. Finally with one massive drive downwards, Thunder's Claws splits open the outer husk of the corrupted elemental and all of the Garou, especially Hershey are coated in the slimy stinky residue that it leaves behind.

Overhead, the Fianna no moon sees three cantankerous, creaking, whurring contraptions that are oddly graceful, and quickly speeding towards him. They sit up on 6 thin spindly metal legs, but the metal is flexible, it seems, being composed of the same material. There is a huge hairy bulbous "head" to each of the "machines" and a large pair of wickedly barbed insectlike mandibles flexing to and fro eagerly.

Of course, a Bone Gnawer covered in stinky grime is nothing strange.

Up in the webbing, where Wears-the-Woad has scrambled, there's a joyous call to battle.

Thunder's Claws' howl turns into one of triumph as the spirit splashes underneath him and he falls to the ground. He takes a moment to regain his feet and locate the source of the call.

Wears-the-Woad charges the middle machine, slashing at the metallic spider with his front claws. The Fianna throws back his head as he howls to his pack, his paws blurring with rage.

Harrier growls down at the puddling and coating slime that was the corrupt elemental, then pads a few steps off, looking up toward Wears-the-Woad.

The Fianna charges forward, the mandibles making distinct and loudly audible clacking noises. The front one pauses, bobbing up and down for a second on the shaking web and it's head tilts slightly to one side. It rears back, so that it's front legs are no long connected to the web and they /change/ to a sharp gleaming metallic sheen. The reflected moonlight glints off the blades sheer and razor sharp edge. The Fianna's claw attacks slash upwards at the underbelly of the machine and he punges inside of the apparently fragile casing. After he's finished though, it seems like his claws are /stuck/ inside of the torso. His muscles strain and pull but they refuse to budge, leaving the ragabash poorly prepared to defend himself. The wicked blades cut across his shoulders and then he is released from whatever held him.

Thunder's Claws looks up after Hack does, and he leaps up into the ceiling to continue the fight.

Harrier is only an indrawn breath behind Thunder's Claws, leaping up to defend the Fianna.

The Gnawer follows her packmates upwards as well, still keeping in hispo. A slow rumbling growl escapes from her throat as she considers the two other machines, which are mimicking the first one's procedures almost as if they were following some preordained computer program. Finally, the third one, seeing only four Garou, clacks something to the other two and rotates a perfect, precise 180 degrees and speeds away quickly away from the Gaians.

Wears-the-Woad charges after, ignoring the blood that has slicked his reddish fur almost black on the shoulder. He howls challenge as he chases the machine that wounded him and attempts to slash it again.

Thunder's Claws snarls, ~Yeah, fuck you, too!~ and he sets off after the retreating one. ~Kill the others,~ he calls back over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought. He moves with surprising speed.

Harrier waits fro the Alpha to select his target, then leaps toward one of the unoccupied machine-claws, howling wildly.

Hershey goes to assist Davy, bounding forward with a markedly improved dexterous gait and howls an attack challenge. The Shadow Lord gives speedy pursuit and rapidly catches up with the retreating spider-machine. It slows, finally, executes another perfect rotation back to face him and then opens its mandibles wide, shooting out some kind of "psuedowebbing" that looks like it's similar to the other materials that were seen earlier. It almost encases the crinos ahroun, and it creaks slightly as it dries rapidly, forming a hard, but perhaps, brittle prison. Perhaps being slimy will work to his favor. The spider-machine then continues to speed away after another precision turn. The Gnawer, with her eyesight takes a vague lunge at the blade-leg, but she misses completely as machine moves it, dodging and weaving, angling for Davy again. Harrier meanwhile leaps towards another one of the spider-machines in one large bound and takes a quick swipe. His claws sink in, like Davy's and they too get stuck as he tries to pull them out. This time, the creature's head lurches forward with a whurling noise and it tries to crush the Galliard's crinosed head. The wicked barbs do amazing damage to the Get Garou's face and the smell of blood begins to replace the stench of the corrupted elementals.

Wears-the-Woad, his nostrils full of the smell of his own blood, is intent on his own target. He doesn't dodge, attacking the metallic body with a powerful swipe.

Thunder's Claws struggles to free himself of the webbing that's surrounding him.

Harrier lets loose a muffled whine, and his claws take on the difficult task of trying to pry the machine-creature's jaws away from his head without him being able to see it. His jaws click together as he begins to gnash his teeth.

Hershey aims another attack for the machine-creature's leg, hoping she might get in a good bite on one of the joints.

The Fianna's claws swipe at the side of the creature and rake across the body. The legs slash back, but they seem to be slowing down for some reason. The bulbous head on the creature seems to be smoking somehow, and the smell of hair burning along with the crack of metal being broken due to heat can be heard. The body of the machine jerks, twitching a couple of times as the Gnawer connects and manages to snap off half of the thing's arm. With a mighty bellow, Harrier manages to pry the mandible from his face, though it looks now as if the creature released the Get with its own volition. Thunder Claw's face strains with effort and he releases a couple of grunts, finally managing to edge a crack along it's length, though it's not quite ready to crack open; with just a bit more effort, the cocoon will likely shatter.

Thunder's Claws exerts just a bit more effort.

Harrier flails with his hands now, still unable to see much -- now it's for the blood in his eyes, running thick around his muzzle. He struggles weakly to reach the thing, but he somehow seems to be pushing through the pain, gathering himself slowly.

Wears-the-Woad closes his claws and just punches the spirit as hard as he can.

Hershey tries again to catch the other blade-arm.

A shattering sound is followed by a triumphant roar from Thunder's Claws and the cracks crisscross the casing, shattering as his coiled muscles press against the sides of it. The spider-creature he was chasing has managed to disappear for the time being. The Davy delivers a smash to the creature's face, which seems to be slowing down even more. The legs barely even twitch any more. As Hershey takes out another hunk of the machine, it stops moving entirely, smoke pouring from the opening joints around the thing's head. Soon the only thing that can be heard is a steady mechanical click from deep inside of the machine's "abdomen." Meanwhile, the machine that Hack is facing turns towards Wears-the-Woad and Hershey and opens its mandible's wide, shooting out another spray of the webbing encasement. It wraps around the Fianna, dropping him onto the webbing, and then, quickly it lurches over to Hershey and repeats the same maneuver, wrapping her solidly in the webbing threads. The mechanical noises from inside of the smoking creature seem to be getting faster.

Wears-the-Woad fights to free himself. He bites his tongue in the struggle, and bloody froth drips from the corners of his mouth as he fights to free himself.

Thunder's Claws takes off in the direction the thing went, muttering about how it can't have gone far.

With a blood-smeared snarl, Harrier heaves himself along after the machine that abandoned it's fight with him. But the section of the other machine, the one that Hershey and Wears-the-Woad had been grappling with, the part that has taken to ticking and smoking, steals his attention. Claws and fists alternately flailing, he falls on the mechanical abdomen with as much ferocity as he can manage.

The spider thing, having finished its task, apparently, heads off, straight for the Shadow Lord Ahroun, it's mandibles dripping with his packmate's blood still. It clacks them together like a challenge for the ahroun, speeding forward with a surprisingly odd velocity.

Wears-the-Woad continues to fight to get out.

Thunder's Claws turns to face the sole remaining enemy, watching as it gets closer. He waits for it, content to let the thing come to him and ready to dodge in case it tries to spit at him again.

The Fianna and the Gnawer both struggle with their bonds, and both of them seem to make some progress, though Hershey seems to be having a more difficult time untangling herself from the webbing. The Get meanwhile leaps on top of the abdomen and pounds on it furiously, his claws tearing through the skin of the near-dead spider machine. The ticking and clacking comes louder now, more urgently. Finally, as the Get drives a final powerful blow through the bottom of the fragile casing, the abdomen explodes upwards violently, bits of shrapnel exploding in all directions, but most it is directly into the Galliard's body. Piles of smoking debris cover over the Fianna and Hershey, but their bonds have broken and they don't seem any worse for the wear. Hack's smoking body lies several yards from the abdomen's wreckage, and it's twisted form reveals just how much damage he absorbed. Certain Death surely has been avoided for a large segment of Edge. The other machine thing, meanwhile bobs at Thunder's Claws, clacking it's mandibles together, until it is thrown off balance by the explosion in the distance.

Thunder's Claws leaps forward as the thing is knocked off balance, moving with a speed even beyond simple Rage. He makes a grab for the thing and attempts to simply smash it against the ground, repeatedly.

The Ahroun drives the machine into the ground, repeated, smashing it's fragile casing against a section of the pattern web that seems to be more durable that the rest of it. The joints are the first things to smash, followed by the creatures casings. Soon, a twisted tangled heap of wreckage lies at the feet of the Shadow Lord.

Wears-the-Woad throws off the smashed and broken webs that half-bury him. His head turns from one side to the other, wild-eyed. His teeth are again bared, but not this time in a snarl. Seeing no enemies left, he goes to Hack's side. Kneeling at the twisted wreak of a body, he touches the mangled remains of the Get's face with one blood-slick hand. Then he throws back his head and howls for his packmate's passing.

Thunder's Claws takes a moment to realize what's happened, then he too throws his head back and joins in the howl.

Wears-the-Woad lowers his head from the howl. He kneels there, with the survivors of his pack, and mourns. After a time, the group moves in retreat, taking Hack with them to be buried.

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